#feels like cheating to use my morning reply for a starter but i had to get glory in the mix!
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Location: Fox Tower Lounge Date: Saturday, September 26th Time: Early (open)
Glory used to be an early riser. Waking up with the sun, when it first crested over the horizon. There were always chores to do. Chickens to feed. Breakfast to make. Hoskins weren’t allowed to be lazy, not when there was always so much that needed to be done.
But it’s been a long time since Glory had chickens to feed, and she’s not so much of an early riser anymore. She’d stopped being one at home first: when her nights got longer, and blurrier, and she had to sleep them off the next day, no matter how much trouble it got her into. And in Louisville, where the places she lived always felt crowded and cramped, she just got up along with everyone else.
But maybe old habits die hard, because she’s awake early this morning for no reason at all, tossing and turning in bed before she gives it up and gets up, creeping quietly through the room to not wake Claudia and Marley.
It’s Parents Weekend, but in their room, it might as well not be. None of them have anyone coming for them. Claudia’s family sent her some kind of package, but that was all, and it’s hard to tell how she feels about it. Glory, even though she maybe shouldn’t be, is glad. She’s not good with parents, and she’s glad she doesn’t have to try to be, that their room is somewhere quiet and calm and just for the three of them. Where she can pretend, if she wants to, that it’s just any other weekend.
She’s curled up on one of the couches as she looks out the window, hands curled around a mug stolen from the dining hall holding an equally-stolen teabag. Quiet, until someone else joins her. “Figures,” she says, her voice pitched low, like there’s someone she could disturb, like it’s not just the two of them. “The one Saturday we don’t have a practice, and I can’t sleep. I’m guessin’ you can’t either?"
#feels like cheating to use my morning reply for a starter but i had to get glory in the mix!#foxesstart
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illicit affairs
pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader
warnings: smut (18+), cheating, age gap
a/n: i love perfumes which smell of daisies so i made the reader use something like that. i do imagine her going for a very much female appearance and aura despite her personality and i can see lee fancying that sort of fragile femininity look paired with her independency. this song is based of illicit affairs from taylor swift but i was also listening to all too well at some points so i think some of that passed onto the writing. hope you enjoy xx
> DRESS
Leave the perfume on the self that you picked up just for him so you leave no trace behind like you don’t even exist. Take the words for what they are a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times ... And you wanna scream don’t call me “kid”, don’t call me “baby”, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times ...
The snow settled onto the ground, a view she could see from her white window. Sprawled against her window pane, the blue soft fabric of her dress cascaded down her body as she watched the snow fall and become one with the mass of white covering the once green grass of her home. Her feet dangled in anticipation, hair cascading into hairdresser set curls, held away from her face with a pearl barrette. Her fingers dangled across her collarbones, feeling the cold matching pearls which unlike her barrette clip, had been offered to her by Lee on thanksgiving. “A pretty girl like you deserves her own pearls” his voice echoed in her mind whenever her feeling felt the smooth irregular circle shapes of the pearls laying against her collarbones. There was nothing more than she wanted than to wear those pearls to the police winter ball, to show up wearing something he had bought for her with what money he gathered from his fickle Captain position, but she couldn’t. Everyone knew what she had, what jewellery she had, it was all valued at the insurance centre downtown and the pearl necklace definitely wasn’t. Her own pearls rested inside her ivory jewellery box along with the ribbon she was wearing around her waist when she first kissed him, and the comb that held her hair in place whenever she met him during windy nights.
Her grandmother had left before her, leaving with the grocery shop owner as her date for the ball but she had stayed behind. She had told her she’d rather go alone, blaming her loneliness on the fact all the boys her age were either engaged thus going with their wives and the single ones not wanting to do with her. Of course that was further from the truth and as she watched the snow fall, she imagined Lee’s cruiser driving through the snow, stopping in front of her home and knocking on her door to take her. But those were nothing but impossible scenarios created from the deepest part of her psyche. Looking over her shoulder, the clock on her bedside table shone 9PM into bold red letters. She should get going before her grandmother got worried. Her eyes lingered across her beauty parlour to the silver platter with her perfume, the one she’d picked just for him after hearing how much he loved the smell of daisies. She had to leave it, she couldn’t put any perfume on, she couldn’t take her pearls, she doesn’t exist. At least, she as Lee’s lover does not exist for all that everyone could know and nothing hurt more than the sound of her pearls returning to her ivory box. It was were they belonged, away from everyone, hidden, a mysterious sin secret.
With her white fur wrapped around her arms, she entered her glossy yet dull red car, pulling the hood up despite the weather. She wanted to feel the cold, she wanted that numbness to hide what she had been feeling for the last months. It was all so exhilarating when it began; the summer walks, laying in the middle of the forest in an old towel as he feed her ripe strawberries, escaping from her grandmother’s house at night and meeting him up under the apple tree in light dresses. However, at time wind down, she started to crave the rest of a relationship, the holding of hands. Instead what she got was clandestine meetings in parking lots, behind the bars or in the middle of the forest when no one could see them. She constantly told herself it was going to eventually be her turn, he was gonna leave Jane for her. Yet, she seemed to constantly fall on the same error every mistress before her did, the mistake of forgetting her place. Stopping in front of the old town hall where the ball was being held, she could see the soft lights, hear the laughter and it made her sick. She didn’t want to go in, she didn’t want to see those happy couples but she had too. She had to put up a show, be the little pedestal trouble starter woman she was expected to be and so she would.
Stepping into the hall, her eyes immediately found Lee in the corner speaking with the Sheriff, arm draped over Jane’s shoulder while the other hand held a clear cup probably with his favourite drink. Her heart sunk to the same place it always did as she got lost in the dance floor. She knew everyone in this town hall, from the first boy she ever kissed Jonah and his third wife Elizabeth to Billy whom had been prom king with her. There was nothing new anymore and what once felt new and true was now anchoring her inside a fishbowl of images of her own mistakes and unfulfilled life needs.
- Hey, Y/N. - Billy called out for her attention. She held onto the fur wrapped around her for comfort as she prepared her facade of a happy girl at a happy party. - Your grandma told me you ain’t gotta a partner for tonight. Could’ve told me, I would’ve taken you.
- It’s ok, ain’t like I need a man. - she replied, almost angrily although he deserved no anger from her. - What’s the stage for? We’re getting a band tonight?
- No, the new sheriff candidates announcing themselves tonight. Prepare for the blood bath.
- Sounds interesting. - she spoke out, her voice getting mumbled out as the mic’s sound hurt her and everyone else’s ear. The police chief stood there in his best attire, holding a small piece of papers, his fat thumbs hitting the mic to gather everyone’s attention. He already had their attention merely by wearing a cowboy’s hat with a formal suit.
- Now folks, we all now how much we gonna miss our good old Sheriff but it’s time to elect a new one. - his southern accent was pronounced, too pronounced, cartoonish even. Y/N remembered laughing as a child when she first heard him speak only to immediately shut up when her grandmother looked her way with a look which left room for no questions. She herself had barely developed an accent, her grandmother still very keen on instilling in her the education she herself had gotten. However, the longer she spent with Lee, the more it would sometimes slip; one or two words, nothing major. - Of course, Leroy is running again.
- I don’t know why he tries. - Y/N whispered to Billy, concealed laughing smile behind her hand.
- You gotta admit it’s a good thing to imagine. Damned Leroy and his prostitutes running the town? We’d be forgotten by God.
- We’re already forgotten by God. We were banished from the garden of Eden, don’t you remember? - she teased, always enjoying to toy around with the religion Knockemstiff was so hang up on. - We’re probably direct descendants.
- You ought to keep that mouth shut if you don’t wanna get in trouble. - he warned yet it went through deaf ears. Y/N liked stirring it, specially when it came to things which were so analytically flawed.
The regular list of candidates continued to go from officers to common folk who all believed they could make the town better. At least that was all they said they wanted to get some votes but at the end of the day, they just wanted to control the town with an iron fist. Do what they wanted without anyone question it. She couldn’t blame it, humans are hardwired to go crazy for power and let it consume them so she just let it pass. She knew all the candidates, they were always the same. Leroy, Matthew, Edwards ... all the common ones, she even wondered why they kept announcing it. Those three competing for the sheriff position was as certain as the sun coming up each morning.
- The last candidate is our cap’tain Bodecker. - her head snapped to the stage as every sound seemed to dim until she was surrounded by pure silence. All she could hear was the buzz from her ears as she watched him climb up the stairs to the stage, shaking the chief’s hands.
Everything seemed to be stuck in slow motion yet her mind was running faster than a shot bullet. The clapping was slow, everything was silent yet she could see their hands slowly clap and their lips moving in whispers. Her eyes roamed the crowd finding Jane right in front of the stage, looking up at him with adoration at the possible place she could possible hold; the sheriff’s wife. The slow motion ended with a loud crash and suddenly everything seemed just too fast. She ignored Billy’s pleas for her attention and moved straight to the small plastic tables covered in burgundy towels to make it look fancier where all the drinks and food were being held. One of her only friends from high school Mary was the one in charge, happily serving food and drinks to anyone who asked.
- Hi Y/N. - she always looked like the perfect housewife and that was always what she wanted to be. Beautiful, bountiful blonde hair with a few flowers matching her pink dress. Despite it all, she was always nice to her even with their different life goals.
- Hey Mary. How’s Paul? I heard from rumours you two had quite a nice honeymoon. St.Louis, right?
- Yes. He booked us a nice honeymoon suite, it had flowers and those heart shaped beds and chocolates. It was real nice, I’m hoping to be pregnant soon. What about you? Your grandmother said you came alone. You could’ve told me, my brother would’ve taken you.
- That’s alright, Mary. I don’t intend to stay for long ... Uhm, can I have a drink?
- Of course. Sidecar, as per usual?
- I think I’ll just have a double cognac, please. Or maybe some gin ... whatever can make me dizzy the fastest.
- Everything, okay?
- Just need to forget some stuff, it’ll be okay. - she forced a smile. At least half that phrase was true. Mary served her up with her best gin and she returned to the dance floor, trying to blend with the rest of the attendees, however her baby blue dress was much too different from anything else in town.
Y/N thought she’d be best outside where no one could see her and so she left, avoiding Billy who kept asking for her. She leaned against the old wood of the town hall, mascara running down her cheeks, and gin glass on the other one. She looked like the perfect warning tale of why you should not mess her married men. She knew better, she knew so much better but she still did it, like the idiotic little fool she seemed to be. Y/N sighed, the air condensing in the air as she drank from the glass.
- Pull yourself together, Y/N. - she looked to see side, her grandmother standing outside with the look she used to give her when Y/N embarrassed her as a little girl. - What did you expect?
- I’m just not having a good day, nana.
- You’re hanging around with Captain Bodecker that’s what you’re doing.
- What?
- Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N. You’re just like your mother and I’ve raised your mother so I’d know. I saw you leave in his car last week. Do you want to defend yourself?
- Is it even worth it? - she took a sip out of her drink. - What do you want me to say?
- I want you to pull yourself together and go inside. You better have this finished off before those elections start. I will not have my granddaughter be a home wrecker.
Y/N ignored it. There was nothing her grandmother could say that hurt more than what she was already feeling. She watched the snow fall from the cover of the banner covering the town hall, cold and icy yet somehow warmer than her. The drink didn’t last forever and although it was much stronger than what she was used to, she didn’t feel the slightest bit dizzy. It was if the universe was punishing her for her choices. She shook her head, leaving the glass onto one of the windows. She’d be better off at home and she’d already made her appearance. If someone asked where she was, she could’ve blamed it on their drunkness. Opening her little clutch, she started fishing for her keys through a sea of change, makeup and receipts.
- You better not be thinking of driving after you just drank. - she turned her head to see Lee with his hands on his waist, playfully smiling at her. His smile faded as he noticed the streaks of mascara from her eyes to her jaw. - Did that shithead Billy say something?
- No ... Lee, I wanna go home okay. - she sighed. - Can you just pretend you didn’t see me drink?
- I was hoping we could spend the night together. Rent a hotel room outside town. A real nice place, with a pool and some room service. My treat of course.
- I ... We can’t, Lee. Your wife is inside as she’s gonna notice you’re not there and you’re not home.
- She’s going home early. Jane’s been taking a few sleeping pills. She’s down for the night, won’t even notice. - he took a few steps closer to her, knowing everyone was too drunk to even remember. - I was waiting for you to come greet me, congratulate me. I can’t believe my girl wanted to leave before showing me how pretty she looked.
- You didn’t tell me you were running for Sheriff. - he cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. - You said it was a silly position.
- Yeah but ... it’s a Sheriff. I could become Mayor, ya know. The old sheriff thinks I’d be good for it. - he scratched the back of his neck, something he always did whenever he was nervous or was confronted by something he did not expect. Y/N had learned to read him and knew him better than her own favourite books. - C’mon, kid. It’s a night worth celebrating, don’t you think?
- Don’t call me kid. - she shot her head his way, his word hitting a particular hurt spot which she didn’t realise she had.
- Hey, I’m not trying to mock ya. - he rose his hands. - What’s wrong, huh baby? Hm? Tell me sugar, I hate it when you’re upset. Besides, if it was that Billy kid I’ve been wanting to give him a good beating.
- Don’t call me baby, either. - she sighed, throwing her purse inside the car, before turning to him. - Billy didn’t do anything I’m just ... tired.
- I’ll drive you home, then.
- I don’t wanna go home either. - she pushed her hair from her forehead, looking at the ground. The snow engulfed her feet and her shoes, yet it might as well have engulfed her entire being. Lee noticed her lip trembling and how her free hand was trying to stop tears from falling down. He looked behind him, the town hall door shut, before taking his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders, and opening the car door for her.
Y/N daren’t look him in the eye, instead sitting in the passenger seat as he pushed the hood of her car up. After all, most people did not enjoy driving in the snow with the hood up. She didn’t know where he was taking her and for all it mattered she didn’t want to know. If he was driving her to her killing location, it sounded much better than having to work out through the bubbling feelings in her tummy. Y/N didn’t even noticed how much she was crying until the tears started streaming so fast they were falling onto the palms of her hands like diamond daggers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the road ahead through the blurry orbs of her own eyes, trying to find some warmth through him. The drive seemed endless and her mind rushed in an even more endless way as she considered all her choices til now. She found it unbearable how not guilty she didn’t feel about it. She could still remember the feeling of the cold water against her body and his lips against hers, being tangled in his bed sheets while he drank a beer, his grunts as he thrusted into her inside his patrol car. She remembered every detail either it being lust or romantic but most importantly she remembered how he looked at her. It was almost as through rose coloured glasses, most of the times agreeing with her pessimist view of the town she was in. Lee looked down on her, watching her perfect hair break through the gelled curls she had set down. He never liked the polished look anyway, he loved to see her walk in her white dresses and freshly washed hair flowing with the wind. This woman sat next to him was gorgeous but he preferred his Y/N, he preferred the woman who would poke fun of casualty and rush into the woods with her nightgown. This woman next to him was pretty yes but she seemed tainted by a sadness he could see yet couldn’t help. He didn’t want his Y/N to be the slightest bit sad. She did not deserve it. She was too pure, too young to be consumed by the loneliness, darkness and sadness that came with being an adult. Yet again, he had to start learning the young woman she was wouldn’t stay young forever. He wanted to know how to help. he wanted to be the man who wakes up next to her on summer mornings and winter evenings but life is not how we plan it out to be.
She watched the snow fall from her window as “You are my sunshine” played on the background from her radio. Looking up to him, his eyes were glued to the road, the sign of leaving Knockemstiff way past them and the hotel on the horizon. She called it the Heartbreak hotel, with its red walls and luxurious nature. A more fancy place for those who wanted to give a better night to their mistresses but that was not why she called it the heartbreak hotel. It was due to the fact she ended up crying every time she or he left. While inside those walls, she could pretend they were Mr. and Mrs. Bodecker, young couple moved out of Knockemstiff on a romantic getaway yet she wasn’t Mrs. Bodecker, Jane was. She had seen who the future sheriff’s wife was and it was not and it would never be her. He stopped the car in the parking lot, looking at her who was lost in thought, leaned against his shoulder.
- Come on, sugar. What is it? - Lee kissed the top of her head. - The heck happened in that Town Hall?
- Just being silly, Lee. - she shook her head, faking a smile. - Just don’t like parties one bit.
- I hate ‘em too, sugar. All show no action. Besides no party is a party without my baby. - he hooked his ring finger under her chin, softly pulling it up. She tried not to look at the moonlight illuminating the silver band around his finger, a symbol he belonged to someone else and she knew it. She had seen the wedding photo on his secretary, a much younger Lee with a much younger Jane with the facade of a happy marriage. Thinking about it always made her sick and ever since seeing that picture she couldn’t bring herself to do so. - Come on, let’s get you a bubble bath, yeah?
She followed him into the hotel almost in a zombie like state until the reception. The talk was a dance she had danced before, it was all the same. Lee would present money in cash so it wouldn’t show up on his credit card statement. He would sign in with a fake address but with his own name and no one would question it. After all, the staff wanted money, they didn’t care if it was an illicit affair or not. To be honest, she didn’t care much anymore.
- Mrs. Bodecker? Mrs. Bodecker? - the receptionist called out to her but it didn’t even register until she was looking her into the eyes. Mrs. Bodecker, she was definitely not. - Would you like a complementary tea? You look cold.
- No, it’s okay. - she smiled while Lee grabbed the keys. His hand wrapped itself around hers, leading her over to the elevator.
God, she wanted him. She really did, he thought to himself. It was an unbelievable feeling to have someone who loved him back, someone who always had encouraging words to tell him, someone who would stay after a fight. He thought and imagine what it would’ve been like if she was born earlier, god he would’ve courted her and would’ve married her the second they were out of high school. Sadly, the woman he loved was born 10 years after and he met her when he was married. He led her to the 13th hotel room and closed the door behind them.
- Things are gonna be different when I’m sheriff. No more sneaking around, no one will dare say a word. I can move to Brewer Heights, heck, I can buy two houses, one just for you and me.
- Lee ...
- Where are your pearls, sugar? You know I love to see you with them, makes you look so pretty.
- You know I can’t wear them in public, Lee. I am not your ... - she shouldn’t say that, she should not let those words out. - They’re not insured under my name, people would comment about it.
- You worry too much. - he pushed the fur that covered her arms down, placing a small kiss on her elbow. - My little over-thinker.
- One of us has too, Captain Bodecker.
- How about some champagne? - he pointed towards the champagne bottle in the ice bucket by the dresser before walking towards it, raising it so he could inspect the brand. He longed for the finest things in life, no longer wanting to be that middle to low class man he’d been forced to be. Being Sheriff, Mayor someday was going to be really something, it’d be his chance.
- I’m not 21 yet, Captain.
- Only a month til you are, kid. - he filled two long crystal flutes, handing it over to them. - By then I should stop calling you kid, huh?
- You shouldn’t call me kid, now. - she took a sip of the golden liquid, hoping it would take away her jealousy. Lee hummed, leaned over to kiss the crock of her neck, climbing up to her jaw in a move that was sure to leave marks. It was okay for him to leave marks on her, she was unmarried, young but on him? Sometimes she wanted to, sometimes she wanted to mark his pale plump skin as a possession, one that screamed Jane might have the wedding ring but she had the man. Yet, she couldn’t. - You look so handsome tonight.
- You’re my worse critic. - he smirked, placing his glass on the bedside table before pulling her chin towards him, placing a soft kiss on her plump, painted lips. - God, you can’t even imagine how fucking hard I got when you walked in.
- Such gentle behaviour. - she teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of his face. He moaned, leaning in to kiss her again. - I wore it just for you. Blue. I knw you like it.
- You’re always such a good girl for me. - he started to remove his jacket, pushing on her chest lightly so she laid against the luxurious bed.
The alcohol sure did a better job than her about making her forget what she was doing it. The alcohol and his kiss, his touch on her skin made her forget the clench in her heart when she saw Jane Bodecker clap once they said his name. It made her forget she couldn’t hear perfume around him unless he showered, it made her forget. Both of her moaned through the kiss, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that it was a sin. Maybe that’s why it taste so sweet, the sin, the thrill. None of them cared really and all he wanted to do now was hold her, touch her, look at her.
- You are so beautiful. - he spoke, more to himself than to her specifically, leaning down on the bed as he spread her legs, taking his place in between them which was so familiar to him. Lee ran his knuckles through the middle of her folds, cold hands making her shiver. - Ev’ry darn day I wake up and I think, I got myself the most beautiful woman in the world.
Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, the white paint of it engulfing her as his hands caressed her thighs. All she could feel were his cold hands massaging the skin of her thighs, spreading them apart and giving him full access to her. His lips attacked her core, always chapped which made her feel so good, it made her know it was him giving her that pleasure. She moaned out loud as he dwelled in like a starved man, her head relaxing against the pillow. There was never any mercy with him, he teased her like he owned her, focusing on her clit while licking her folds. He had her exactly where he wanted her - starving for him.
- You’re gonna see. - he mumbled out while he relentlessly ate her out. - When I’m sheriff there will be no more hidin’. No one gonna dare say anythin’ about it.
- Lee, please ... no foreplay. - she whined, begged even as he stopped his motions. His eyes curiously searched for hers, hands pulling his body up as he stood on top of her. - I just want to feel you.
- Weren’t you feelin’ me, sugar?
- You know what I mean, Lee. - she wrapped her hands around his neck, head cocked to the side. - I don’t want any foreplay today.
- Oh sugar ... - he chuckled leaning down to kiss her collarbone. - You’re just a cock slut for me, aren’t ya? Can’t just wait for me to treat ya right ain’t it, baby?
- Lee, please. - she whined, hands wavering over his police issued chunky belt. Lee smirked, holding her hand before she could do anything. Y/N pouted, head leaning against her shoulder. - C’mon.
- But baby, you look so pretty when you’re begging. - he returned to kiss her neck, leaving marks which were sure to become hickeys tomorrow but she didn’t care. No one was going to see it. - I was expecting you to come congratulate me in the way you always do, maybe in the back of the town hall. Hoping someone would catch us so they’d see you’re my girl.
- Lee ... - she whined as he kept kissing her neck and collarbones. - Please.
- Tell me what you want, baby. You know I do everything you want. - he rose from her neck, toothy grin as he leaned down to kiss her plump, pink painted lips. - Tell me you want my big fat cock. I know you do, baby. Tell me how much you need it.
- Lee ... please, need you.
- You have me, baby, tell me what you need. Tell me what you want. - his knuckles ran through the middle of her folds again. - You’re so wet, baby. Just tell me what you want, c’mon
- Lee ... please. - she looked at him with those wide eyes that could get someone to commit murder for her, as he pushed down his trousers. - I want you to fuck me with your ... big fat cock, Capitain.
- Oh, baby ... - he leaned his forehead against hers as he pushed his cock past her entrance, eyes shut tight as he tried to keep himself sane at the mere feeling of her walls contracting against him. His lips found hers as he shed himself fully into her. Her hand searched for his, as Lee slowly rolled his hips against hers, basking in the mere high that was being inside of her. - You okay, baby?
- Yeah. ... fuck, move. - she whined as he removed himself from her and pushed back in, slowly starting to rock into her as he always did. The little tease. Her hand clenched his as he speed up his thrusts, lips returning to hers in a messy, moaned filled kiss. All she could hear was the sound of skin against skin and interrupted breathing. - Lee, fuck.
- I know, baby. - he laughed, returning to kiss her the way he liked as her walls started to clench more forcefully against his member, milking him for all he was worth. His free hand grabbed her hip as he further sped up against her, bruising her skin as his breaths got more raggedy. He bite onto her neck as he felt his control over his own orgasm disappear.
- Lee, fuck! - she moaned, almost raising off the bed as her own orgasm washed over her. Her head fell against the pillow, sluggish as he continued to thrust into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. He chuckled mid grunt, holding her against him as he turned around in bed.
- You all fucked up, aren’t ya, sugar? - he kissed the top of her head. - You’re gonna see, sugar. Things are gonna be so much better.
- Right ... - she cuddled against his chest. - Hm ... Lee can you drive me back home early on?
- Early shift?
- Yeah.
- Okay, sugar.
The morning was a harsh breaker of dreamy hazes and just like that she was back to the place where she always was, in her home, surrounded by the scent of the perfume she had bought just for him. She sat on her dress, taking the necklace he had given her from the little mother of pearl seashell shaped box and holding them against her chest. She loved him, she really did. Some people had their downfalls and hers was painted onto her neck and held by her hands. He was her downfall.
The sun was high up on the snowy midday in Knockemstiff and once again Lee had been resigned to desk duty after the Sheriff not taking it too lightly he decided to run without his permission. Normally he would’ve been upset but he knew, he knew he was close to winning and then he could throw away those stupid hotels and just get her a little house close to him. God, he couldn’t fucking wait.
- Captain Bodecker, someone here for you. - his secretary knocked on his door. - Mary Gillies, sir.
- Mary Gillies? - he knew her to be a friend of Y/N’s, perhaps her only friend other than that punk Billy. - Send her in.
- Good afternoon, captain. - she said as she walked into his office. - I’m so sorry to be bothering but Y/N ...
- Is she alright? - he interrupted her.
- Yes, well ... - she rummaged through her bag to find a cushioned envelope with his name on it. - She told me to give you this.
- What is it?
- I don’t know, captain. I must get going, my husband is waiting for me.
- Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gillies.
He waited for the woman to be out of his office and for the door to be shut for him to open the envelope. The minute he opened the envelope, pearls fell into his desk, the same pearls he had given Y/N followed by a small note in the dusty pink stationary that normally laid on her dresser. Turning it around, he saw the words he’d been dreading to read or hear ever since he met her. I’m sorry, Lee. He threw the letter on his desk before getting up from his desk as fast as he could, ignoring the calls from his colleagues as he got into his cruiser. Damned, Brewer Heights, why couldn’t it be closer?
He approached her home fast and closed the door as fastly as he ran up to the door. Her hag of a grandmother was possibly at church and he had learned where they kept the spare key; behind a violet pot. His heart was beating as fast as a deer on a hunt as he climbed up the stairs and found the once filled room was empty, with only a perfume bottle on her empty dresser. He observed the whole room as if he were in a nightmare, sitting on her bed as he clenched the pearls he had given her not so long ago, the smell of daisies in the air as some song played on the still turned on radio.
You never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away ...
taglist: @lookiamtrying
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan/you#sebastian stan/reader#sebastian stan/y/n#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan smut#sheriff lee bodecker#sheriff lee bodecker x reader#sheriff lee bodecker x you#sheriff lee bodecker x y/n#sheriff lee bodecker/reader#sheriff lee bodecker/you#sheriff lee bodecker/y/n#sheriff lee bodecker smut#sheriff lee bodecker imagine#lee bodecker#lee bodecker x reader#lee bodecker x you#lee bodecker x y/n#lee bodecker/reader#lee bodecker smut#lee bodecker imagine#lee bodecker/y/n#lee bodecker/yoou
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My Hero Academia Sentence Starters #31-40
A collection of the MHA sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.
~~~
31) Lee Uraraka, Ler Iida
“What’s happening? Why are you laughing?” Iida asked, more than a little confused. All he’d done was reach to brush some hair from Uraraka’s face and push it behind her ear, but all of a sudden she’d burst into giggles and scrunched up her shoulders, twisting away.
“Y-You tickled me,” she said, rubbing the spot behind her ear to get rid of the feeling, turning to look at him with a sheepish smile. “I’m, uh…really ticklish around my neck and ears.”
Iida blinked, surprised, but then he smiled. “You’re ticklish, then?” he asked, reaching forward to gently squeeze her sides. “What about here?”
“Eeek! Iida!” Uraraka giggled again, curling up defensively. “Nohohohohoho!”
“Or here?” He moved to her ribs. “Here?” Down to her hips. “Or even better – what about here?” He reached down to gently scribble along her bare soles, causing her to squeal and kick at him, which he expertly dodged. “Seems you’re ticklish everywhere, my dear.”
She giggled, pushing at him. “You’re mean.”
“Mean? Me? Perish the thought!” Iida then grabbed her and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her securely and tickling her sides as he declared, “I am a beacon of justice and hope! I cannot be mean; it goes against my very nature!”
“Ehehehehehehehehe! Iida!”
“Your words wound me. I would never do anything mean to you or anyone else.” Iida grinned, holding her closer with every struggle. “I must insist you take that back.”
“Okahahahahahay, I tahahahahake it back!” Uraraka giggled, sagging in relief when he finally let up on his gentle assault. “That’s no fair. I’m really ticklish, and you know it.”
“I most certainly do now,” he replied, grinning. “Thank you for that most valuable information, my dear~”
*
32) Lee Deku, Ler Bakugou
“Is that a challenge?” Bakugou snapped, whirling on Deku.
Deku’s eyes widened. “W-What? No! Nonono!” He backpedaled quickly, holding up his hands in defense. “You can make me laugh – you can make anyone laugh! Wait!” Bakugou had grabbed onto his wrists and pinned them together, reaching for Deku’s ribs. “Wahahahahahait! Nohohohoho, I’m sohohohohorry!”
“You don’t think I can make people laugh, huh? I’m not funny enough for you?” Bakugou demanded, though his tone was more playful now. “Well, you’re laughing, so I must be doing something right!”
“You’re cheheheheheheating!”
“Oho – cheating, am I?”
“No – NO!! NAHAHAHAHAHHAHA KAHAHAHAHACCHAN!!” Deku squealed struggling against Bakugou with everything he had when the blonde pressed his thumb into the hollow of his hip, kneading deep and drawing out the most ticklish sensations and laughter from him. “PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”
“Who’s laughing now, huh, Deku? Call me a cheater…” Bakugou grinned at the wail of ticklish distress he pulled from his childhood friend. “…and you’ll suffer for it!”
“NAHAHAHAHAHA I’M SOHOHOHOHORRY!! PLEASE, I GIHIHIHIHIHIVE!!” Deku screeched, laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing. His face was turning a dark shade of red. “KAHAHAHAHAHACCHAN!!”
Finally, Bakugou decided he’d had enough and let him go. Deku collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, still giggling slightly.
“So,” the blonde said teasingly, cracking his knuckles. “Feel like telling me I can’t make you laugh again?”
*
33) Lee Shigaraki, Ler Dabi
“But now you’re smiling, aren’t you?”
Shigaraki hated that he couldn’t hide his face. He tried to pull his arms down, but Dabi held them firmly above his head, smirking. “S-Shut up, y-yohohou idiot…”
Dabi winked at him, scribbling lightly over his belly, just enough to get a genuine smile from his boss. “Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this. You haven’t asked me to stop yet.”
“Shut up, I sahahaid.” Shigaraki twisted his head to the side. “D-Dohohon’t mahahake fun of me.”
“Make fun? Who’s making fun?” Dabi shot his hand down to Shigaraki’s thigh, which he knew was a bad spot, grinning when the blue-haired boy arched his back and let out a yell of wild, screechy laughter. “Now this is fun!”
“STAHAHAHAHAP!!” Shigaraki cried, twisting and writhing but going nowhere fast. He laughed freely and uncontrollably as Dabi continued to squeeze his death spot over and over and over again. “DAHAHAHAHABI YOU IHIHIHIHIDIOT!! KNOHOHOHOHOCK IT OFF!!”
“Say please~”
“NEHEHEHEHEHEVER!!”
Dabi shrugged, settling himself on his boss’ knees so he couldn’t kick at all, then finding the spot where his thigh met his hip and drilling in with relentless precision.
Shigaraki laughed so hard he went silent for several moments. When he finally got his breath back, he screamed, “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! DABI!!”
And at last Dabi relented, grinning down at Shigaraki as he gasped for air and let out a few residual giggles. “Have fun?”
Shigaraki blushed, turning his face away again, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “I said shut up.”
*
34) Lee Deku, Ler Shinsou
“Just because I haven’t tickled you all day doesn’t mean you have to pout,” Shinsou said, not taking his eyes from his book as Deku huffed and rolled over to turn his back on him. “I can still see you pouting. We share a bed.”
“Just leave me alone,” Deku mumbled. “If you’re not going to tickle me then just shut up and read.”
There was a long pause. “What did you say to me?”
Deku’s heart leapt. He hadn’t thought about it when he said the words, but the warning tone in Shinsou’s voice was more than enough motivation for him to say it again. He did his best to hide his hopeful smile. “I said shut up and read.”
“‘Shut up,’ huh?” Shinsou shifted, and Deku’s heart raced, and soon the smaller boy was lying flat on his back with his boyfriend looming over him, wrists pinned firmly to the mattress on either side of his head. “‘Shut up?’”
“Y-Yeah,” Deku managed, feeling emboldened by Shinsou’s sudden shift into his more dominant side. “You know. Close your mouth. Quit talking. Stay quiet.”
Shinsou settled himself on Deku’s thighs. “Why don’t you stay quiet,” he said in a low tone, “and I’ll tickle you until you’re begging me for mercy.”
Deku couldn’t stand the anticipation. His eyes grew wide with excitement when Shinsou finally let go of his wrists to rest his hands on his hips.
“Oh, and one more thing. Keep your arms up.”
With that, Shinsou drilled his thumbs into Deku’s hip bones, and Deku threw his head back and fisted his hands in his hair and kicked frantically and laughed and laughed until he was positive he’d have no voice the next morning.
*
35) Lee Bakugou, Ler Todoroki
“I would never expect you to be so giggly.”
“Shuhuhuhuhut up, Icy-Hohohohot.”
“I mean, seriously, you’re actually giggling. I’m barely even touching you.” Todoroki smirked. “I thought you’d have more resistance than that.”
“S-Shut up ahahahand wreck mehehehe already!”
“Wreck you?”
Bakugou would not hide his face. He wouldn’t. Screw Icy-Hot and his self-satisfied smirk. Screw those cold fingers tracing his bottom ribs so fricking teasingly. He arched his back, trying to get more of the feeling, but Todoroki merely removed his hands entirely, and Bakugou had to bite back a snarky retort. Or a whine.
“What’s the magic word, Katsuki?” Todoroki asked sweetly, batting his eyes.
“Ugh.” Bakugou would not hide his face, but he had no problem closing his eyes to block out that look from his way-too-confident partner. “Please, dang it.”
“Hmm…” There was a long pause, and just when Bakugou opened his eyes again, Todoroki’s fingers descended, pinching up and down his ribcage with deadly precision. “That’ll do for now.”
“Ehehehehehehehe! F-Frihihihicking cahahahahareful!” Bakugou half-demanded, half-pleaded. He gripped his headboard to keep himself from fighting back. “T-Thahahahat spot is—”
“Bad?” Todoroki smirked. He honed in on the blonde’s top ribs where his sweet spot was, smiling as his boyfriend’s efforts to keep his arms up got a million times harder. “Does it tickle so, so bad? What are you going to do? Stop me?”
“Plehehehehehease!” Bakugou said it without resistance this time, twisting his head to the side. “Dohohohohon’t tehehehehease me like thahahahahat!”
“Oh, but I have to, you see.” Todoroki settled himself on Bakugou’s hips and suddenly dug into both sweet spots with everything he had, chuckling along with his partner as he finally shot his arms down and burst into loud, screaming laughter. “You’re far too cute not to play with!”
*
36) Lee Todoroki, Ler Kaminari
“You – you cahahahahahan’t use your quihihihihihirk!” Torodoki giggled helplessly as the tickle-shocks lit up his nervous system. “Thahahahat’s so not fahahahahahair!”
Denki smirked, gently shocking Todoroki’s sides with his quirk, tickling him more than if he were to use his fingers, but not so much that the overly ticklish boy was screaming for mercy. “You can’t tell me you don’t like it.”
“I dohohohoho, but stihihihihill!”
“Then how am I not being fair?”
“Behehehecause I lihihihike it too muhuhuhuhuch!”
Denki laughed, switching from his tickle shocks to sporadic poking. “There? Is that better? Do you like it better when I’m quick and random and tickly like this?”
Todoroki’s face was so red he looked like a cherry. “Plehehehehehehease!”
“Well? I’m waiting for an answer.” Denki quickly scribbled in his underarm, enjoying the loud yelp he got, followed by Todoroki shooting his arm down defensively. “Better tell me which you like more, or I’ll have to tickle it out of you~”
“Dohohohohoho it!” Todoroki replied through his giggles, surprising the electric hero.
“Do it? You want me to tickle it out of you?” When his giggly friend nodded, Denki laughed and straddled him, shoving both hands into his armpits and igniting his tickle shocks again. “You asked for it. Better talk, Shoto.”
But Todoroki was busy – busy laughing freely and openly, in obvious ticklish distress but also obviously loving every second. Denki smiled warmly at him. Well, if harder tickles were what he wanted…
*
37) Lee Kaminari, Ler Jirou
“So…are you gonna apologize?”
Denki swallowed nervously, looking up at Jirou’s face looming over him. Under any other circumstances, he might find this more fun than it was, but right now…
“Y-Yeah,” he managed. “I will.”
She waited.
He was silent.
“Well?” she asked.
He smirked. “You gotta work for it, babe.”
Jirou’s eyes darkened while her lips quirked upward. She pinned both of his wrists to the grass and extended her earphone jacks, hovering them threateningly above his underarms.
“W-Wait—”
“Oh, no,” she said teasingly. “I have to work for it, babe.” Then she allowed her jacks to wiggle in his underarms, making him sputter and giggle immediately, squirming under her strong hold.
“Nonono, okay, okahahahahay, I’m sohohohohorry,” he pleaded, smile and giggles as bright as the sun. “Plehehehehehease, no tihihihihihickling!”
“Aw, but that was too easy, Denks,” she mock-whined, moving her jacks up to his neck, watching in amusement as he tried and failed to scrunch his shoulders. “I thought you said I had to work for it.”
“I’m sohohohohohorry! Plehehehehease, Jirou!”
“Oh, well.” She shrugged, removing her jacks and digging into his ribs with both hands, smirking as he shot his arms down to try and push her away but only succeeded in rolling around helplessly beneath her touch. “You’ve just given me a great excuse to tickle you to tears, regardless.”
“Nohohohohoho! Plehehehehehease!”
“Please what?”
“Dohohohohohohon’t!”
“Don’t what?”
“Tihihihihihihickle me!”
“Tickle you?” Jirou giggled, leaning down to kiss his neck in tandem with her squeezing his sides. “If you want me to, babe~”
*
38) Lee Tokoyami, Ler Sero
“Oooh, is this a bad spot?”
Tokoyami gripped his wrists but couldn’t find the strength to push those wiggling fingers away from his ribs. He cackled and cawed out his laughter, both mortified and intrigued by the sounds coming out of his own mouth. “S-Sero, you f-fiehehehend, you’ll pahahahay for this!”
“Oh? I don’t see Dark Shadow defending you,” Sero teased, keeping up his relentless digging, beyond satisfied to have made such a stoic person break down into giggles. “Where is he? Hmm?”
“C-Cohohohohoward!” Tokoyami managed, giving up the battle, knowing he’d already lost. Giggles poured out of him more freely, alternating between human laughter and birdlike squawks and chirps. “Hehehehe’s a cohohohohoward!”
Dark Shadow remained silent on the matter.
Sero grinned, deciding to experiment further by going up into Tokoyami’s underarms. His reactions remained steady, but his legs kicked out behind Sero desperately.
“Plehehease,” he begged, trying to push him away. “Stohohohohop, I cahahahahan’t stahahand being tihihickled!”
Sero hummed playfully. “No? Why not? Too sensitive?”
“Yehehehehes!”
“Oh, are you, now?” the tape hero chuckled, but gradually stopped his tickling and got off of his classmate. “All right, all right. Don’t want to overdo it.”
Tokoyami recovered with astonishing speed. “Dark Shadow!”
“On it!” Dark Shadow exploded from his hiding place, lunging for Sero and pinning him down much in the way Tokoyami had been moments before.
Tokoyami loomed over him, a wicked smirk on his face. “Well, now…let’s see how well you can handle my revenge.”
*
39) Lee Kirishima, Ler Todoroki
“I don’t know…you think you can take it?” Todoroki asked, frowning down at Kirishima, who lay on his bed with his arms above his head.
Kiri flashed him a confident smirk. “Obviously, or I wouldn’t suggest it. Come on, Shoto. Bring it on.”
Todoroki hesitated.
Kiri frowned. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable, of course. You don’t have to.”
“It’s not that. I’m willing to do it, I just…” Todoroki rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to push you too hard.”
“That’s what safe words are for.”
Right. Todoroki nodded, reaching up to grab Kiri’s wrists just long enough to create ice shackles to bind him to the headboard. Then he scooted back and leaned his head down to Kiri’s bare stomach and ribs, looking up at him one more time. “You sure?”
“One-hundred percent.”
“All right.” Todoroki’s hesitation faded and he smirked, taking a big breath and blowing a raspberry along his bottom ribs, followed immediately by nibbling.
Kiri shrieked with laughter, squirming but going nowhere fast, and his reactions only boosted Todoroki’s confidence to do it again, and again, and again.
“PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Kiri finally begged, tears springing to his eyes. “OH, GOHOHOD, PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”
“You asked for this,” the icy-hot hero reminded him. “And if you really wanted me to stop, you’d be saying our safe word. So…” He blew another raspberry, then nibbled, then another raspberry, then more nibbles. All the while Kirishima tossed his head back and screamed with laughter, struggling against the ice shackles to no avail. After about ten rounds of this, Todoroki paused to check in. “You doing okay?”
“It tihihihihihihihickles so bad,” Kiri whined, but he was beaming and obviously excited. “Dohohohohoho it again!”
Todoroki was happy to oblige.
*
40) Lee Deku, Ler Shinsou
“How are you so good at this?” Shinsou asked incredulously, staring at the stack of five books on top of Deku’s head, remaining perfectly balanced as he moved about the room. “Did you go to charm school or something?”
Deku giggled. “No. I’ve just got skills, mate.”
Shinsou groaned. “You did not just.”
“I just.”
“You are so cringe-worthy sometimes,” Shinsou muttered, smirking as Deku turned his back to walk back across the room. In a flash, he grabbed his partner around the waist and pulled him to his chest, ignoring the thump of the books as they fell in a heap on the floor. He wasted no time in digging his fingers into Deku’s sides.
“Wha – ahahahahaha hehehehehehey!” Deku squealed, giggling crazily, pushing himself further back into Shinsou’s tickly embrace. “No fahahahahahahair!”
“No? You’re not trying to get away~”
“You knohohohohohow I lohohohohove it when you tihihihickle me!”
Shinsou chuckled. “I do.” He reached down to scoop up Deku bridal style, carrying him over to the bed and plopping him onto it, quickly going back to scribbling along his sides and ribs. Lesser spots, he knew, but he wasn’t in the mood to make his partner scream for mercy. He just wanted to hear his happy giggles for a while. “You love it when I tickle, tickle, tickle this little tummy of yours~”
“Ehehehehehehe!” Deku giggled and blushed furiously, but he nodded all the same.
“And your cute little ribcage I can play like a xylophone.” Shinsou tweaked his ribs, then moved up to his underarms, tracing lightly, drawing more panicked giggles from Deku. “And these cute, ticklish little hollows here~”
“Toshiehehehehehe,” Deku whined, but he was loving the attention. “Plehehehehease…”
“Oh, and let’s not forget…” Shinsou leaned down, brushing his lips over another sensitive spot. “…about this adorable, ticklish neck of yours.”
“Ehehehehehehe~” Deku squealed with happy giggles, then finally reached up to wrap his arms around Shinsou’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “You tickle me pink, Toshi.”
Shinsou groaned again, but laughed all the same. He hugged Deku close. “And I will every time.”
#fanfiction#tickle fic#tickle drabble#compilation#quick prompts#boku no hero#my hero academia#bnha#mha#sentence starters#shindeku
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Suggestions - Melendaire
(AO3 link)
// Neil accidentally lets something slip on a drowsy Sunday morning in bed with his girlfriend. Claire, naturally, panics. //
Word count: 2384
Neil Melendez wakes up with Claire Browne in his arms just about every morning.
The feeling still hasn’t gotten old.
Their one-year anniversary is coming around the corner. Just under two weeks away, the surgeon realizes when he does the math in his head. And even after all this time, the feeling of waking up with her head on his shoulder and tucked under his arm has never lost its luster. The rush of excitement and pure affection still rushes through his veins all the same. He’s still groggy as that dawns on him, barely awake enough to move away from the blinding sunlight coming in from the bedroom window. All he does is squint and tilt his head the other way, right into Claire’s brown curls. Getting a face full of hair should bother him, but he’s used to it by now— it only makes him smile.
They don’t need to get up right away today. It’s one of their few days off, which means they’ll spend most of the morning the way they usually do when they get a day off: sleeping in for a while, going a few rounds if they’re in the mood, and then making pancakes for breakfast. It’s a nice routine they’ve gotten into over the past year, one that’s made Neil dread work the next day. He just likes spending time with her too much; likes getting lost in her and her soft brown eyes.
Suddenly, he feels her stirring in his arms and she opens her eyes, waking up slowly with a tired moan. “What time is it?”
“Early,” he replies, sitting up in the bed leaning against the backboard.
“Ugh, I hate early. I want to kill early,” Claire groans. “Do we have to get up?”
“No. It’s our day off, we can sleep in. No surgeries, no difficult patients, no paperwork. None of it.”
“Good,” Claire sighs contentedly, pressing a lazy kiss to his cheek and sitting up to snuggle into him. “I like staying here with you.”
“I like it too,” he admits, smiling. “Hey, what do you say we go running this afternoon?”
“Yeah? You think we’ll be fully awake by then?”
“Definitely,” he affirms. “We can sleep in and then go after lunch. And the only thing I love more than you and my work is beating you at the track.”
“Oh, really funny, Neil,” she quips sarcastically, giggling. “If you win, it’s because you cheat!”
“I prefer to call it being creative,” he protests. “Besides, you’re the one who keeps falling for the old ‘fake an injury’ trick. I’ve done it a hundred times now and you fall for it every time.”
“Well excuse me for trying to be a good girlfriend,” she mumbles teasingly, accepting defeat.
“Don’t worry though, sweetheart. When I beat you this afternoon, it’ll be fair and square,” he comforts teasingly, pressing a kiss to her head. They normally spend their mornings like this too— exchanging quick kisses.
“You’re unbelievable,” Claire giggles. “Always so—“
“Arrogant?” He guesses the end of her sentence, because it’s one of the first things she’d called him when she came to St. Bonaventure’s.
“Self-assured,” she corrects him. “But if you want to say arrogant then I won’t argue with that.” She gives him a teasing smirk, which sends them both into a fit of laughter.
“I want to marry you,” he lets out as he chuckles, before he can really think about it.
Oh crap. Something he hadn’t even expected to say, something lingering underneath the surface of his mind, just slipped out.
Oh crap. Claire’s staring at him with eyes like a deer in headlights.
Oh crap. What the hell did he just say?
It’s not like he doesn’t want to marry her. He definitely does. They’ve been dating for quite some time now, ever since that close call during the earthquake nearly a year ago. But they’d both agreed to take things slowly, especially since it had taken everyone at work a little while to adjust to the idea of him and Claire in a relationship. Dr. Melendez and Dr. Browne, secret lovers. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition, but they’d weathered it together. He loves her and she loves him, that’s all that ever really mattered. Now, they’ve built this life together— a routine of date nights and tender kisses. He’s never felt happier, and his love for her has only grown stronger with time.
So yeah, the thought of marrying her has crossed his mind more than once. Although apparently, it’s crossed his mind more frequently than he’d thought because here he is, blurting out a proposal while tangled up in bed with his girlfriend on a Sunday morning.
“What?” Claire gets out of bed and stands up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest. Suddenly, through Neil’s fault and his fault alone, she’s wide awake and alert.
Neil winces, his nose scrunching up into his eyes. “Nothing. I mean, I didn’t— that’s not...”
“Oh my god,” she lets out, quiet and stunned as she gets up out of the bed and takes the sheet with her, keeping it wrapped around her body. “You just asked me to marry you?!”
“No no no,” he replies frantically, reaching to grab his boxers and yanking them on before standing up to face her. The bed separates them, but her eyes are wild and piercing with shock. He knows he’s just done something monumentally stupid. “That wasn’t a proposal, I swear.”
“Then what the hell was that?”
“It was...” he pauses to rack his brain for something to say to get him out of the corner he’s backed himself into, and he only lands on one thing. “... a suggestion,” he finishes with a shrug.
“A suggestion?” She looks at him skeptically, her arms crossed in front of her.
“Yes,” he confirms hesitantly.
“Ok, that’s it,” she nods curtly. “you’re insane. This— this is insane!”
“Look, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “It was a nice moment, I was happy and still half asleep, and- and it just slipped out. Like it or not, I said it. But if you want to go back and pretend like it didn’t happen then fine, we can do that.”
“Well we can’t go back now, Neil,” she huffs. “I can’t go on pretending you didn’t just say that. I mean— god, I can still hear it in my head even now! We need to talk about it.”
“Ok,” he sighs— a little defeatedly, since he has a gut feeling that this conversation isn’t going anywhere he likes (and his gut has never steered him wrong, being a surgeon has taught him that much). “The floor’s open for discussion, Browne. How do you want to go about this?”
He tries to be as clinical as possible he waits for a response. This whole situation is a little embarrassing, really. In the small amount of time since they’ve woken up in each other’s arms, Neil’s somehow managed to blurt out a proposal to his girlfriend of less than a year and has nearly ruined everything. They’re both standing on opposite sides of the bed, in nothing but their underwear, and Neil swears the tension is thick enough to choke them to death. He can picture his colleagues attempting some hypothetical surgery, can picture calling the time of death of their relationship and marking the cause of death off as asphyxiation on some intangible substance. It’s funny, in some weird and twisted way. He’s beating himself up over where this conversation is heading, but at least Glassman would get a kick out of it.
But then, by some miracle, it doesn’t head that way at all.
Claire exhales quietly, deep in thought. Melendez can see her muscles relaxing, the tension leaving from her shoulders as she sits back down on the bed. She leans in a little, staring shyly at her fingers sunken into the bedsheets. “Well, for starters... I think you should ask me again.”
“What?” His brows furrow as a small smile creeps onto his face. Neil sits down across from her on the bed, delightfully stunned. “Are you being serious?”
“I am,” she replies calmly. Her tone is a hell of a lot calmer than Neil feels right now. He can practically feel the excitement rushing through his veins.
Is she saying what he thinks she’s saying?
Neil hasn’t expected this conversation to come for a long time. They grew into each other’s love in time, but it doesn’t erase the scars they have. Claire’s pain and trauma is actually what made her so scared to admit she loved him in the first place. It’d taken him being on the brink of death for her to admit her feelings. Now, they’ve finally grown more comfortable with their feelings but Neil still knows that taking it slow is the right move. It’s why he was so surprised when that proposal slipped off his tongue. Proposing after nearly a year of dating isn’t exactly moving at a slow pace. He supposes his feelings for her— the overwhelming urge to marry her— overcame all the voices of reason telling him to take it easy for fear of scaring her off.
Now though? Now it’s a whole different story.
He stays quiet for a second too long and the small smile on her face fades, bringing in a nervous glance instead. “I mean, only if you want to ask me,” she adds awkwardly after a moment.
“God yes I do,” he assures her. It sparks a small giggle from Claire, her eyes now sparkling and glossy with what Melendez thinks are tears of joy. “I just... I figured you might want it to be a bit different from this. I don’t even have a ring.”
“Well you know me, I’ve always hated romantics,” she dismisses with a watery chuckle.
He laughs in return and smiles until his cheeks hurt. The space between them on the bed slowly closes as Neil inches forward, dragging the sheets with him and taking her hands in his. “You... you are the single best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he starts. The awe in his own voice surprises him a little, but it’s not unexpected. Spend enough time around Dr. Browne and you’ll get used to incredible. That’s what he’d said around a year ago, and it still rings true now. He’s also said being around her makes him a better surgeon and person, which is also very true. She just makes him better, in everything he does. “I love you more than I thought was possible. So, Dr. Browne...” Claire lets out another watery laugh but her hands start to shake in his, so Neil holds them tighter. “... Will you marry me?”
There’s a moment where everything is quieter than silence. Neil starts hearing ringing in his ears, a throbbing sensation that this could go very wrong. Or, as he suspects (and hopes), it could go very very right. And he knows this is weird— that not-so accidentally proposing to your girlfriend while half-naked on a Sunday morning isn’t exactly the traditional way to ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you— but he just doesn’t care. Neil wants to have a life with her. He wants the whole package, the thing they’ve both been searching for long before finding each other. The life they’d almost given up hope on. And not for the first time since he’s met her, he wants it with Claire Browne.
And the silence is broken, like a dam flooding with a river that ends up only being one word. “Yes,” she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.”
Neil can tell, even without looking in a mirror, that his face lights up at those words. His cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, his body practically aches for her.
A year ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of unprofessional touches or intimate moments. He’d been so scared to cross the line, the point of no return. But now, he’s about to spend the rest of his life with the most talented, kind, incredible woman he’s ever met, and he doesn’t have to be scared. He leans over, meets her in the middle of the bed while on their knees, and kisses her without hesitation.
It’s sweet, the way Claire’s kiss is always a sweet release to him, and beautiful. Admittedly, he feels tears of his own coming on and tastes the salt streaming onto their lips from both of their eyes.
Claire pulls away after a while, laughing and smiling while crying. They’re both blubbering messes at this point, filled with overwhelming tenderness.
“What do we do for a ring?” Neil finally asks after they both compose themselves a little bit.
Claire looks around the room, ruffles around the drawer of the nightstand for something, and then finally pulls out a sharpie. “Here,” she says, pulling the cap off. Melendez watches in shock as Claire scribbles a line all the way around her ring finger, forming the trace of a ring with black ink. “It’s not a permanent solution, but it’ll do.”
Neil laughs giddily. Only Claire Browne would draw an engagement ring on her finger. There’s truly no one like her, and he loves her for it. “It looks beautiful, Dr. Browne,” he teases.
“It’s just until we get something nice. And when we do, it better not be anything big or tacky or expensive. But that’s just my preference. You know— just a suggestion,” she finishes with a smirk.
“Right,” he chuckles. “And I suggest you kiss me now.”
“That can be arranged,” she quips back teasingly, smiling as she leans in with her hands on his bare chest.
Neil smiles into the kiss, his lips pressing against hers. His hands find her hips and pull her in until they’re flush against each other. They crash onto the bed in a frenzy of blankets, Neil settling on top of her gently, and he sees Claire’s beaming smile and the black ink around her ring finger.
It’s the last thing he sees before he moves in to kiss her again. Neil tastes her lips on his, and thinks proposing to her was the best suggestion he ever made.
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Dr. Mael Halvorg (Part 2)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Male Part Fae/Female Part Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Naga, Reader Insert, Anthropology, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Infertility, Birth, Oviposition, Egg-Laying Words:
Commissioned by @ivymemnoch! The reader and Dr. Halvorg discuss his lingering infertility problem. Amai lays her final clutch of eggs. Please reblog and leave feedback!
The Traveler's Masterlist
“Good morning, class!” You said on the first day.
“Good morning!” Fourteen bright voices responded.
All of the children except for baby Yenu were sitting on their tails behind desks in a room that had been set up as a classroom by the staff.
“So, every day each week we’re going to work on a different subject,” You began. “Mondays are reading and language comprehension, Tuesdays are maths and sciences, Wednesdays are social studies and economics, Thursdays are geography and history, Fridays are fun days with arts, crafting, music, and educational games. Today is Monday, so we’re going to start with reading. You should each have a workbook appropriate to your developmental level in your desks, so please take out your reading workbooks.”
As the children shuffled and searched for the right book, Dr. Halvorg stepped inside the classroom with a clipboard. You raised an eyebrow.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I’m observing the children in a school setting to see how they adapt,” He replied.
You narrowed your eyes at him. “And I’m also assuming how I teach, correct?”
He dipped his head sheepishly. “I was curious. And it’s for my research.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Mm.” You turned back to your students and fell into your teacher’s voice. “Keenai, if you would begin reading the first sentence, please?”
Keenai picked up his workbook and started reading. “The small dog lives in a red house.”
“Can you tell me which of these words are verbs?”
“Um…” He looked at the sentence, frowning.
“To remind you, a verb is an action word, something someone does.”
“Uh… lived?” He replied slowly.
“Very good.” You said, and he smiled in relief. “Tani, you’re next. Read the next sentence in your book.”
“The red house was built on a wed… wedeness…”
“Wednesday,” You said. “That’s a hard word, I know. Can you tell me what the noun is in that sentence?”
“House?”
“Good! A noun is a person, a place, or a thing. I’m a noun, you’re a noun, the room we’re in is a noun.”
“Is Nenish a noun?” Jinsa asked.
“Yes.”
“Ha ha, you’re a noun!” Jinsa said, pointing at Nenish.
“So are you!” Nenish interjected.
“Hey, hey! Settle down, please!” You called over them, sitting on the edge of your desk. “Fuma, you next.”
Fuma read from his book, and then Amaia. Next, you went down the line of the four-year-olds, having them read a sentence and find colors, shapes, numbers, or sounds in the sentences. The three-year-olds were next, and they simply read small sentences. You then had the one-year-olds spell and say three-letter words.
Their quick development was normal for nagas, as they tended to age quickly until they hit puberty, when their aging progress slowed to accommodate for yearly hibernation, but it was also startling in conjunction with the developmental levels of similar creatures. You had never studied the advancements of a species’ young so closely before, and you had to admit, it was fascinating. You could see why Dr. Halvorg found it so interesting.
You set the children writing tasks appropriate to their learning level and took a moment to talk to Dr. Halvorg, who was scribbling quickly in a notebook.
“They have computers now that you can write on, you know,” You told him, amused.
He looked up over his glasses at you and quirked an eyebrow. “I am aware of that, thank you. I’m not quite so old-fashioned as I seem, regardless of what Amai might tell you.” He looked back down and continued scribbling. “I’m a chronic note-taker. A bad habit I can’t seem to break, though with my profession, it’s often a strength rather than a weakness.”
“Hmm,” You hummed. “And what do your notes say about my teaching?”
“Adequate,” He replied, still scribbling. “Don’t misunderstand, that’s not a criticism. I hold everyone to an extremely high standard. If you hadn’t met expectations, I would have dismissed you.”
“So I meet your expectations?” You asked sardonically.
“At the moment,” He said, snapping his book closed and standing up. “I still want to observe your other classes before I’m completely satisfied.”
“Hmm,” You said again.
True to his word, Halvorg attended every class that week, observing you interacting with the children. Other than a question or two about your future curriculum, he stayed quiet. At the end of the week, he asked that you submit a weekly progress report until you either found a replacement or were dismissed.
It seemed excessive to you, and you were beginning to wonder if he still saw the children as an experiment. He seemed to care about them, but how much of that was genuine and how much of it was his own self-interest? You were starting to feel leery of and disconcerted by him.
Perhaps he picked up on this, because he seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. He had you direct all of your questions and reports to his assistant and rarely picked up his phone. Any conversations were brief and succinct. He did send you notes on your curriculum, making suggestions for each child. If you weren’t already suspicious of his motives, you might almost have though it sweet.
“I think Halvorg is avoiding me,” You told Amai when the two of you went to lunch together. Now that the two of you could hang out after all the years, you made it a point to set time aside for each other and had lunch at least once a week.
“What makes you say that?” Amai asked, drizzling dressing over her starter salad.
“Ever since he watched me teach classes, he’s barely spoken to me. He seemed excited to exchange research notes when I first arrived, but now he seems to have no interest in speaking to me since he finished observing class.”
“He could just be busy,” Amai suggested. “The four year old’s birthdays are coming up. He always does something special for the kids on their birthdays.”
“Are you concerned that he only sees your children as test subjects?” You asked her. “He seems obsessed with them.”
Amai laughed. “I thought that way in the early days, but he genuinely loves kids. If anything ever happened to me or Yenuno, I’m confident Halvorg would take care of them.” She took a sip of her mineral water. “Are you coming to the kids party? You’re invited, obviously.”
“Will there be clowns? I hate clowns.”
She snorted. “Nothing so gauche. I think Halvorg set up a treasure hunt. The kids always love whatever he plans. Honestly, I know I complain about him, but he does make it easy for me sometimes. I haven’t had to plan any major events since the kids hatched.”
“Hmm… I don’t know. It’s strange to me how involved he is.”
Amai sat back in her seat and eyed you shrewdly. “Did he ever tell you about his son?”
You looked up in surprise. “Son? I thought you said he had no children.”
“He doesn’t… technically.” Amai set her fork down. “You didn’t hear this from me so don’t repeat it, but he had a wife nearly a hundred years ago who cheated on him. He raised a boy, thinking he was his son, but the child was actually fathered by the other man. His wife left him and took the boy with her and he never saw him again. I don’t think he ever got over that.”
“Oh, god,” You replied, horrified. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
“He’s spend the last several decades saving dying races from the brink of extinction. In a way, he thinks of those children he helped bring into the world as his children, too. And every time he has to let them go, it’s like losing his son all over again. I think the fact that he gets to help raise our babies is something of a gift for him. Trust me, it’s not something he takes for granted.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that,” You said in dismay.
“Halvorg is stuffy, strict, and a stickler for protocols, so he can be difficult to read, but I assure you, he loves my children as if they were his own. It may have started as research, but he has a family now and I think that’s what he wanted all along. Try not to judge him to harshly.”
You conceded with a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The following Saturday, you attended the kids birthday party as requested. The kids were excited and zooming around the receiving area, shrieking and laughing, all of them wearing party hats and nothing else. Amaia was piggy-backing on Dr. Halvorg, her tail wrapped around his waist for stability and her arms hugged around his neck. Dr. Halvorg walked around completely normally, as if this was a typical action and he was used to it. He watched the children playing with a wide, fond grin on his face.
You walked over to Amai and Yenuno, who were watching from the refreshments table with Yenu, feeding her crackers.
“Nothing like a little bit of chaos in the morning,” You said.
They laughed.
“You’ve never seen them after a group kill,” Yenuno said. “They’re uncontrollable after they’ve taken down an elk together. It’s pretty incredible to watch for me, personally. Nagas in the wild typically don’t work together and they especially don’t hunt together, not even siblings.”
“They are very close and friendly, for nagas,” You remarked. “Markedly different to most snake-related species I’ve met.”
“It’s Amai’s blood and influence that’s doing it, I’m sure,” Yenuno said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “She’s the most friendly and cheerful person I’ve ever met.”
“To be fair, sweetie, you haven’t met all that many people,” Amai said, laughing.
“That is fair,” Yenuno conceded. “My point stands, though.”
“Alright children, gather ‘round!” Halvorg called, and they flocked to him, swirling around him like a whirlpool. “Now, you guys are going to split up into teams to help Nenish, Tahara, and Sadji find their gifts. Nenish will have Tani, Jinsa, and Keenai on his team. Tahara will have Amaia, Osan, Ishni, and Dashu on his team. And Khuzho, Chidil, Fuma, and Itheti will be on Sadji’s team.” He handed a small leaflet to each team. “Follow the clues to find the treasures! Go!”
The kids scattered, giggling madly.
“Come get something to drink and rest for a minute, Halvorg!” Yenuno called. “I think you’ve earned it.”
Halvorg grinned boyishly, an expression that brightened his face and made him look… well… rather handsome. He jogged over to the table and had a ginger ale. Elves have hypermobile ears, and his ears were high and wiggling slightly, a normal indication in elvish peoples of happiness and excitement.
“I think they’ll really enjoy their gifts this year,” Halvorg said, taking sips of his soda. “And the treasure hunt is half the fun. It’s challenging, but not too difficult. If they work together, it should be no trouble at all.”
“You didn’t get them history books like last year, did you?” Amai asked with her eyes narrowed. “You might as well have burned the money you spent on those for all the use they got out of them.”
“No, I learned my lesson,” He said defensively. “I bought toys.”
“Educational toys?” Amaia asked shrewdly.
He stopped mid-sip and looked at Amaia with an eyebrow raised. “…maybe,” He said into his cup.
Amaia rolled her eyes. “At least Yenuno and I ordered some stuff the kids will like.”
“You don’t know that they won’t like them,” I said. “I loved educational toys.”
“Yeah, but you’re a nerd,” Amaia said, poking you playfully.
“So what? Your kids could be nerds, too. I’m pretty sure Osan is going to be a Star Wars fan. He’s been talking my ear off about the Mandalorian.”
“It’s so strange,” Amaia said, ignoring your response and looking off in the distance. “I thought that because the kids were hatched in clutches, they would be like twins or triples or the like and have similar interests and personalities, but they’re all so different. Different likes, different traits, different styles. It’s amazing.”
“It amazes me, too,” Yenuno said, staring into his drink with a wistful expression. “My siblings and I separated when we were young, so I don’t know what they were like or if we had similar interests. Honestly, until recently, I never gave them a thought. Watching my children work together… it makes me wonder what my own siblings were like, and if they’d still be alive today if we had helped each other.”
There was a contemplative silence for a few minutes, broken by excited voices reentering the receiving area.
“We found it!” Tahara said, holding up a wrapped gift. The other four were carrying smaller treat bags that had their names written on them. “Uncle Maël, look!”
“Excellent! Well done!” Halvorg said, bending to give Tahara a hug. “Now, let’s wait until your brothers return with their gifts before we open them, okay? How about you five play tag until then?”
“Okay!” Tahara said.
“I’ll play with you,” Yenuno said. “I’m starting to get fat, preparing for the incubation period.” He patted Amai’s belly, which carried his three eggs, likely to be the last clutch they’d have together.
“How soon?” You asked Amai as Yenuno took off to chase with his children.
“Any day,” Amai said with a weary sigh. “And I’m ready for it. These little guys are heavy.”
“Boys or girls?”
“We won’t know until they hatch. It’s too hard to get a clear picture with the ultrasound, and besides, even if it could, both the male and female genitalia are internal, so it’s nearly impossible to tell.” She took a sip of ginger ale. “We’re really hoping for at least one girl. Don’t get me wrong, we love the boys more than anything, but we’d like Amaia and Yenu to have some sisters.”
“I’d like to be present for the laying, if that’s okay,” You said.
“For your research?” She asked.
Your head rocked back. “No, because you’re my friend and I want to be there for you.”
Amai smiled fondly. “Oh. Of course, thank you.”
Dr. Halvorg had not added anything to the conversation with you and Amai, and instead went to the table and made a plate of snacks. You gave Amai a look and a cocked eyebrow, and she nodded understanding, slipping away from her spot to watch her husband and children play.
“Dr. Halvorg?”
He flinched and looked up, glancing around furtively and noticing that the two of you were alone. “Yes?”
“Why are you avoiding me?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again before responding, “I’m doing no such thing.”
“I’ve requested at least three meetings with you this past month, and you’re always too busy,” You said dryly.
“Well, I am,” He said, turning. “If you’ll excuse me…”
“Are you avoiding me because I asked you out?” You asked bluntly.
He missed a step in his stride and stopped.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I should have realized from your professional demeanor that you wouldn’t be open to interoffice dating. I apologize.”
Halvorg sighed and turned to face you. “It’s not that. Not exactly, I mean.” He set his plate on the table and looked you full in the face for the first time in weeks. “I haven’t given a thought to dating in…” He rubbed his forehead. “Gods… decades. The question took me off guard, of course, and I actually had to sit down and give it some thought. I’ve been wrapped up in my work, of course, but I think I was just distracting myself.”
“From what?”
He sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. “It’s hard to talk about. I don’t even really talk about it with Yenuno, and I would consider him my closest friend.” He sighed heavily and avoided your eye. “I’ve ignored my personal life in favor of spending my career and fortune in this century helping races achieve something I want for myself.”
“Children?” You guessed.
He nodded a little morosely. “Not just that, but that is a significant part of it. I’ve been following the reproduction rates of Celtic fae since the fae were originally integrated and it’s decreasing year by year. I live in constant fear that my own race will be extinct in my lifetime.” He quirked his head at you. “Your race still seems to be fairly prolific, is that correct?”
“Oh yeah, I have a bunch of brothers and a truckload of cousins. No problems there.”
He sighed. “I don’t know what the problem with my race is. I’ve studied genetic traits, magical impediments, marriage and divorce rates, and ratio of coupling to conceptions.The numbers are terrible and I don’t know why. That’s what drives me crazy. I hate not having an answer.”
“Have there been miscarriages?”
“No, that’s the crazy thing, the rate of conception is extraordinarily low. I think there have only been three live births of Celtic fae blood in the last year.”
“Oh, jeez,” You said, sitting against the table next to him. “I didn’t realize the problem was that severe. Have you considered whether it might be a physical problem?”
“How do you mean?”
“Have you ever done a sperm count? Or had an MRI of the area to see if there’s a blockage? That kind of thing can be genetic and men tend to be shy about stuff like that.”
He tilted his head and frowned. “No, I haven’t. It actually hadn’t occurred to me. Honestly, I’ve been so focused on my work to distract myself, it may have worked too well and I ignored such things.” He looked at you and smiled. “You’ve given me something to think about.”
You smiled back. “Good. I wonder if the females of the race have a similar issue. It may have been something bred into the people over time, over centuries.”
“That’s possible,” He said. “There’s certainly a precedent; some creatures have been bred to extinction. Remember the pug?”
“That tiny dog breed with the squashed face?” You said. “Yeah, they died out a while ago, didn’t they?”
He nodded. “That was human interference, though. Yenuno’s people were dying out due to antisocialism; too reclusive to even propagate their own species. Yenuno was the only one of his kind to take up this project, and even he was reluctant.”
“He seems happy now,” You remarked.
“Yeah,” Halvorg said softly, watching Yenuno laughing and chasing his kids with a sad kind of jealousy. “He does.”
You watched his face, the deep, deep sadness creasing his face and making him look older than he was.
“Follow up, Halvorg, see a specialist. This may have a fix that didn’t exist the last time you tried.”
He nodded, smiling at you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will.”
As you stood up, you bumped his shoulder lightly. “Thank you for talking to me. I appreciate that you trusted me enough to discuss such a sensitive subject. I get the feeling that you don’t share yourself with many people.”
He laughed. “No, not really.” He looked up with a smile that seemed more sincere. “Thank you for listening.”
Amai went into labor three days later. She was taken to the laying room, where both Yenuno and Dr. Halvorg were present in addition to the interspecies OBGYN. You were suited up in scrubs and the paper gowns that surgeons wear, as was everyone else in the room besides Amai, who was completely naked, and Yenuno, who never wore clothing. There were natal heart monitors on her belly and an EKG hooked up to her chest.
Amai was sitting on a specially designed chair that would allow her to pass the eggs through her birth canal and into the waiting arms of the doctor. She was already sweating and panting by the time you arrived. The OBGYN and Dr. Halvorg were having a quiet conversation. You went to the other side of Amai and took her hand, trying not to wince when she nearly crushed your fingers.
“Is she okay?” You asked in alarm.
“She’s not fully dilated yet,” Halvorg said, pulling his braid into a surgical cap. “The eggs are getting impatient, it seems.”
“Yeah, well, so am I, so they can settle the fuck down!” Amai shrieked at him.
He bore the abuse with no reaction other than a wry smile. Yenuno wisely said nothing and simply wiped Amai’s forehead with a cloth.
“It won’t be long,” the OBGYN said. “She’s almost there.”
“Just saw me open and get them out,” Amai moaned. “It would hurt less.”
Yenuno tried to kiss her cheek, but she swatted him away weakly.
“No,” She said peevishly. “No touching ever again.”
“You said that last time,” He said, smiling fondly.
“Yeah, but I mean it this time,” She said sulkily.
“Of course you do, darling.” He patted her head. She scrunched her face up at him in annoyance. She was always adorable when she was miffed.
“I’ll make you into shoes,” She said sourly. “And a matching purse.”
It took a while for Amai to dilate fully, and by then she was very tired. Yenuno was looking worried; she’d laid several eggs over the years and never struggled this much before. Perhaps this being their last clutch was a good idea.
“Okay, I think we can start pushing now,” The doctor said, getting ready to catch the eggs. “Amai, when you feel the next contract, hold your breath, bear down, and push.”
“Okay,” She breathed. “One’s coming.”
We all braced for the push. Amai took several quick deep breaths and held it, her face pulled tight in pain and effort, doubling over in the chair as she did. You and Yenuno held her hands and patted her back and murmured encouragement. Halvorg was waiting with a soft cloth to take the eggs for cleaning, after which they would be laid in a specialized incubating carrier to be taken to Yenuno’s cottage.
The first egg came slowly and with much screaming. The doctor caught it and handed it off to Halvorg. The shell of the egg was soft and needed extremely delicate care, but Halvorg was well practiced by now and got the egg washed and into the carrier under ninety seconds and returned for the next.
The second egg came more quickly, but Amai screamed the whole time. By the time the third and final egg was laid, her voice was raw and she was too exhausted to scream.
But it was over. She fell back into the recline of the chair as if boneless and breathed in shallowly, her eyes barely open.
“You were amazing, darling,” Yenuno said gently, kissing Amai’s face. “Rest. I’m taking the eggs to the cottage. The children will visit you when you’ve slept.”
She turned her head slowly to look at him and touched her fingertips to his face, tracing down his cheek, chin, neck and chest before letting her hand fall back to her side, and her eyes closed. Nurses came to whisk her away to a recovery room, the OBGYN following behind. Yenuno and Halvorg left to take the eggs to the cottage for the incubation, and you were left alone in the laying room.
As you were shedding the paper gown and surgical cap, you noticed a small book lying on the ground. It looked to be one of Halvorg’s research journals, though it was smaller than his usual ones. He must have dropped it out of his back pocket when he was disrobing. You picked it up and took it with you with the intent on returning it to him in the morning.
And of course, you’d completely forgotten by the time you woke up.
Amai recovered enough in a few days to be up and walking around. She and the children took turns keeping Yenuno company, as he grew morose if he was left alone too long. You had declared half days until the new babies hatched so that they could have more time with their dad.
One afternoon, after the children had left class for the day, Dr. Halvorg came in and sat on the edge of your desk.
“Hello,” You said pleasantly, closing the folder with their latest work for grading. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“I wanted to let you know I took you up on your advice,” He said, looking a little bashful. “I went and saw a specialist. They’re going to be doing some tests soon. Sperm count, blood tests, an MRI. Any test that can be done will be done.”
“Good!” You said, swinging your chair around. “I’m glad. Maybe you’ll finally get an answer.”
He sighed, looking pensive and anxious. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I still wanted to thank you for pushing me to do it.”
“I didn’t push you to do it, Maël,” You said. His eyes narrowed at your use of his first name, but he didn’t say anything. “I just brought the subject up. It was your decision to do it.”
“Well, thank you all the same,” He replied. “I admit, I’m nervous about it. I could either get wonderful news or have my worst fears confirmed. I don’t know how I’ll react to either option.”
“Would you like me to come with you?” You asked him.
He looked at you in surprise. “You… you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t,” You replied. “But this is the kind of thing you need friends for. And since Yenuno is tied up with the eggs, I could be a good substitute. You don’t even have to think of me as a friend, if you don’t want to, just an emotional support associate.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I think of you as a friend.”
“Well, thank you. I was hoping we’d get there eventually. So? What do you think? Want some support for this?”
“Not for the tests, I can do those by myself perfectly well,” He said, adjusting his tie nervously. “But… for the results… perhaps… a friend would be nice.”
“I’ll be there for you, then,” You said, standing and patting his arm. “Does Yenuno know about this? Have you talked to him about it?”
“No,” He replied. “I didn’t want to tell him while he’s dealing with his own new babies. Besides, if the news is not good, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. If the news comes back positive… I don’t know… I think this is one thing I’d rather keep to myself.”
“Except for me, you mean,” You said.
He nodded concedingly. “Besides you.”
“Let me know when the results come back and I’ll go with you. We’ll make a day of it, go to a spa, get a bikini wax together, eat some overpriced salads, buy something ridiculous we want but don’t need. It’ll be a blast.”
He actually laughed a little. “Sounds like a plan.”
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My Masterlist
The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist
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can i please request something? i’ve seen a lot of takes on this but i wanna see if you could write a bakugo x reader based on the song “if the world was ending” by jp safe and julia michaels? if not it’s okay!
IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING
Word Count: 1598
Anime: My Hero Academia
Pairings: Bakugou x gn!reader, Shouto x gn!reader
A/N: this is the first mha request i’ve ever done so i’m like super self-conscious of it and i didn’t wanna post but i decided to anyway. and as always, feedback, advice, criticism is appreciated but not required. if you would like to request something, send me an ask! i hope i did this request justice, nonny. 🥺
Warnings: Mentions of cheating, slight angst.
Italics mean flashbacks
I sat across from Bakugou at our favorite restaurant, nothing was said as we waited for our meal to be served to us. The waitress finally came over to deliver our meals, smiling as she sat them down and asked if we needed anything else. I zoned out, thinking about the conversation Bakugou and I shared in the first couple of months of our relationship.
“If the world was ending, you’d come over right?” I asked Bakugou, letting the question drift up in the air for a bit. “Of course I would, dumbass. It’s you and I to the end, right?” He replied, making me laugh. “Yeah, I guess it is.” I said, putting my head on his shoulder. He looked down at me, a sliver of sadness in his eyes before he looked back at the night sky. “What made you ask a dumbass question like that anyway?” He asked, a slightly playful tone in his voice. “I don’t know, guess I’ve just been thinking about it for a while.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “You shouldn’t be thinking about shit like that, dumbass. You know I’m down for forever.” He replied, pulling me closer to him as I felt his lips meet mine.
Bakugou’s voice drew me out of my thoughts, making me look up at him. “Y/n? Were you even listening to anything I said, dumbass?” He asked, making me sigh. “No, I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” I admitted, making him sigh in irritation. “I wanted to talk to you about our date at the carni-” I interrupted him, “I know you weren’t down for forever.” I told him, making him raise an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about?” He asked, a hint of anger and concern taking over his tone. “I know you cheated, Kacchan.” I finally told him, making his eyes widen in fear. “Y/n, I-” I held up my hand to stop him from talking. “It’s fine. I understand why you did it.” I said, making him look down at his food. I took a sip of my tea, mixing my soba around before taking a bite. He finally spoke up, his voice hoarse as he tried not to cry, “How’d you find out?” I let out a small laugh, “We know we weren’t meant for each other and it’s fine.” I took another bite of my food, watching him eat. Every muscle in his body was tense and his tears were on standby, waiting to be unleashed. I finished my food and sipped my tea in silence, looking at him occasionally. After we had both finished our meals, I put the money and the tip on the table and stood up. “Coming?” I asked him, not waiting for a reply as I left him sitting there for a minute before he ran after me. I walked down the sidewalk to the park that was closest to where we were. I took a seat on the hill that Bakugou and I always used to sit on when we go on dates. I sighed, thinking back to the first time he brought me here, which happened to be close to a month of us being together.
“Would you love me for the hell of it?” I asked Bakugou, making him smile and laugh. “What kind of question is that to ask on a date?” He asked, making me punch his arm lightly. “Hey, we’re young. All our fears would be irrelevant.” I told him, making him raise an eyebrow. “I guess so. Fine, I’ll love you, just for the hell of it.” He replied, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Bakugou knew it would start out as loving me for the hell of it, but he never knew he would end up loving me for real.
I looked over to see Bakugou sitting next to, but not too close. “Why’d you come here?” He asked, finally looking over at me. I smiled at him, “Remember the first time I asked you if you would come over if the world was ending?” He nodded, “Yes, what about it?” I looked back at the skyline, seeing the cherry blossom petals fall off the trees. “Do you remember when I asked you the second time?” I said, letting him think for a moment.
“If the world was ending, you’d come over, right?” I asked Bakugou, making him groan. “You’ve asked me this before, Y/n.” He said, making me smile. “I know, but you never really gave me an answer.” I told him, making him jump up from his spot next to me. “Hey, I gave you a perfectly fine answer the first time you asked, dumbass!” He replied, making me laugh. “You’re right, I suppose you did.” I said, feeling him lie down on the grass, pulling me down and putting my head on his chest. “The sky’d be falling and I’d hold you tight.” He said softly, his heartbeat thumping loudly in his chest.
“I tried to imagine your reaction.” He finally spoke up, making me turn to look at him for a moment before looking back down at the skyline. “I didn’t feel it when the earthquake happened.” I said honestly, seeing him give me a puzzled look. “But it really got me thinking, the night we went drinking. We stumbled in the house and didn’t make it past the kitchen.” I said with a laugh, shaking my head at the memory. “Y/n…” He said, his voice cracking. “Ah. It’s been a year now, I think I’ve figured out how. How to think about without it ripping my heart out.” I said, grabbing his hand. “Y/n… I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” He said through tears, making me smile sadly. “I know you know we weren’t down for forever and it’s fine. I know you know we weren’t meant for each other and it’s fine.” I replied, tears falling down my face now. A sob wracked through his body as he held me close to him, not wanting to let go. “Kacchan. It’s time.” I told him, pulling away from him. “Y/n, please don’t go. It meant nothing to me.” He said, begging me to stay with him. “Kacchan.” I said with a smile, pressing my lips to his one last time. “You’ll always be my number one, even if I wasn’t yours.”
-Six months later-
I was sitting with Shouto at the beach, sighing to myself. “When did you know about Bakugou cheating on you?” He asked me, making me smile. “I was distracted and in traffic. I didn’t feel it when the earthquake happened.” I replied to him, making him nod. “The earthquake being when he cheated, right?” He asked curiously, turning to look at me and saw me nod in response. “Well. He was never here, for starters. Remember when he said he was out late during the night for training? I believed him at first, but it really got me thinking. Was he out drinking? Was he in the living room, chilling, watching television? It’s been a year now and I figured out to let him go and let communication die out.” I replied, looking out at the ocean before turning to face Shouto. “You knew he had been cheating on you for a year?” He asked, surprise filling his face. “I pieced it together not too long before I broke up with him. It hurt, I will admit. I’m much happier now.” I said, but that wasn’t entirely true. For the past six months, Shouto has been there for me. For every late night call, for every time I needed a shoulder to cry on, for every time I wanted to let loose and have fun. He was everything I had wanted from Kacchan. He was attentive, caring, passionate; there was so much about him that I loved.
A year went by and I finally had gotten over Bakugou and I was a lot happier. After comforting Shouto in the common room while everyone was watching Endeavor and Hawks fight that Nomu, I ended up asking him out later that night when we were in his room.
“If the world was ending, you’d come over right?” I asked Shouto, making him smile. “Why, is that your way of asking me out?” He asked, chuckling a bit. I blushed at his comment, “Did it work?” He laughed again, “The sky would be falling while I hold you tight. No, there wouldn’t be a reason why we would even have to say goodbye.” He replied, making me smile. I leaned up, my lips meeting his in a kiss, feeling his lips curl into a smile against mine.
I was sitting in Shouto’s room, smiling down at his sleeping form. I was truly happy and Bakugou could never take that away from me. Not this time. He stirred in his sleep before letting out a small yawn, rubbing his eyes before he looked up at me. “Good morning, my love.” He said, leaning up to press a small kiss to my lips. I smiled, kissing him back. “Shouto?” I said, watching him peel his body from the bed before standing up. “Yes?” He said, looking back at me. I moved to the foot of the bed, looking up at him. He knew what I was about to ask him; I made a habit of asking him every morning we saw each other. “Would you love me for the hell of it?” I asked him, making him smile. “I’d be honored to.” He replied, bending down and grabbing my face with one of his hands, kissing me passionately.
#mha#bnha#mha imagines#bnha imagines#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou katsuki#shouto todoroki#bakugou x reader#shouto x reader#bakugou imagines#shouto imagines#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#bakugo x reader#shoto x reader
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A Palette Full of You (5)
Summary: Glimpses into Colette and Lloyd’s lives as they grow up together, learn who they are, and fall in love with each other.
(Written for Colloyd Week 2021)
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel, Noishe Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Chapter: 5 of 6 Word Count: 4186 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 14/06/2021
Chapter Title: A Brand New World
Chapter Summary: On a day in the park, Lloyd helps Colette with her art in the most unexpected way. In the process, he comes to a conclusion.
(Colloyd Week Day 6: Quote Day: "Let's go explore the new world together!")
Notes: Chapter 5 of my multi chapter Colloyd week fic! (I might have cheated with this prompt.) Fluff galore.
Chapter list Full fic Previous chapter Next chapter
~~~
14-years-old
"Whoa there, Noishe!" Lloyd exclaimed, sidestepping in an attempt to dodge the excited dog bounding towards him through the grass of the park. But Noishe was far too quick to fall for a ruse as simple as that, making a minute adjustment to his path within seconds. Noishe pounced on Lloyd and knocked him to the grass with a happy wag of his tail, Lloyd yelping in protest at the predicament he'd found himself in - Noishe was practically on top of Lloyd, resting two paws on Lloyd's chest and pressing down as if to assert his triumphant victory.
"Noishe, get - off!" Lloyd struggled to get the sentence out against Noishe’s weight. Noishe was no small dog, after all - he was almost half Lloyd’s weight. Not enough to pose any real danger, but enough to make Lloyd feel like he was being slowly crushed by a very furry van.
He patted Noishe on the snout, but to no avail. Noishe didn’t budge, his favourite squeaky toy, shaped like a bone, gripped in his mouth. The toy was slathered in slobber, slowly dripping onto Lloyd's face. Lloyd was used to this by now, but that hadn't succeeded in reducing how disgusting the experience was. He’d need to borrow some tissues from Colette later.
Lloyd sighed, raising his hands in a sign of surrender, hoping Noishe would get the memo to let up. When Noishe got like this, nothing but a really hard push would get him off, and Lloyd was just not in the mood to expend that much power.
Surprisingly, Noishe conceded, taking his paws off Lloyd's chest and dropping the squeaky toy into the grass. Lloyd sat up, taking a deep breath and letting sweet air flood his lungs again.
Noishe barked to get Lloyd's attention, pushing the squeaky toy back towards Lloyd with one paw. He lay down onto the grass with his snout pillowed on his paws and ears drooping, seeming to stare straight into Lloyd’s soul with wide eyes in what Lloyd had termed "the Noishe stare" - the pleading look that Noishe whipped out whenever he wanted something. The best alternative to words.
“Do you want to throw it this time, Colette?” Lloyd asked, retrieving the toy from the floor. He knew Colette loved pampering Noishe, and she hadn’t played with him at all since arriving at the park. She hadn’t had a chance, despite sitting quite close by on the stone wall surrounding the tall rain tree in the middle of the park, too busy staring at her sketchbook.
“Colette?” Lloyd called out again as he craned his neck to look behind his shoulder, perplexed at the lack of an answer. Had she heard him?
It certainly didn't seem like she had. She was still in the exact position he’d left her in when he’d taken Noishe to run one round of the park. Dressed in overalls, her hair in twin braids that rested on her shoulders, legs kicking back and forth with the heel of her sneakers hitting the stone wall, the laces on her right sneaker undone and flying everywhere. Tapping her pencil against her cheek, brow furrowed, she stared down at the sketchbook resting in her lap. A palette with quickly drying paint sat next to her, the solitary paintbrush still dabbed in midnight blue. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, courtesy of the morning sun, soon to be the afternoon sun as it continued to rise.
Maybe she was running low on inspiration again?
“Noishe, catch!” he yelled, throwing the squeaky toy as far as he could, where it landed in a row of bushes. Noishe practically hopped a full ten centimetres into the air, bounding off with a resounding bark and freeing Lloyd of his presence.
“Hey,” he said softly as he seated himself next to Colette on the wall, hoping not to startle her. As he’d suspected, the page of the sketchbook was still utterly blank, save for a messy circle in pencil with dabs of crimson filling it.
“Oh, Lloyd. You’re back from walking Noishe?”
There was silent panic on Colette’s face, screaming "that much time has passed already?".
“No ideas, huh?” he asked.
Colette set her pencil down, shaking her head. “Yeah… Why does this always happen whenever I have to get things done? It’s so infuriating...”
“Isn’t that what always happens? The moment I start trying to get all my homework done, my motivation just disappears. And then I’m left with a pile of undone homework.” Plus a bunch of all-nighters to clear that pile.
Colette sighed, running a hand down her face. There was a tiny fleck of yellow paint by her eyebrow that kept drawing his attention, standing out on her face. She must have unknowingly put it there. He was close enough that he could just reach out a hand and help her get it off, but he held himself back. He'd just tell her about it later. “I have to get my competition piece done by the end of the month, though… There isn’t much time left. Even playing with the paints didn’t give me any good ideas. This is hopeless...”
“Don’t worry too much,” he reassured her, patting her on the shoulder. “I’m sure the idea will come to you eventually! And once it does, you’ll be fine.”
Colette tended to be a slow starter, but once she got into the swing of things she could go for hours without stopping, an almost manic glint in her eyes as she slaved over the tiny details. When she got like that, he had to tap her on the shoulder to break her out of her trance and physically drag her off to take breaks.
Colette puffed her cheeks out, pouting in disappointment. “I thought the change in scenery would help, but it doesn’t seem like it. Sorry for dragging you all the way out here.”
“Come on, don’t apologise! Noishe needed a change of pace too. Look how happy he is,” Lloyd said, gesturing to where Noishe was still busy digging for his toy. The bush obscured most of him, leaving only a wagging tail visible.
How could he help her? It’s not like he was any good at art - he couldn’t even draw an apple. What came out when he tried for art class resembled a slimy blob. He did, however, love seeing her create. Loved watching the joy in her eyes as her hand danced across the paper. Loved witnessing the beauty of the final product, because everything Colette touched became a priceless treasure. How could it not, with the care she put behind every deliberate action she took?
So he didn't know much about techniques, but he knew enough about Colette to know that she loved doing art. That was really all that mattered, wasn't it?
Maybe he could push her on…
“Okay. How about you just start?” Lloyd suggested, picking up the paintbrush and pulling it across the paper, a trail of midnight blue left behind.
"I... don't know," Colette replied, taking the brush back and staring at it in her palm like it held all the answers in the world. "It needs to fit the theme and it needs to appeal to the judges. So it needs to have some significant meaning..." She sounded miserable, her shoulders hunched, and Lloyd hated it.
"Does it really matter what others think the meaning behind it is, as long as you know what it is?" Lloyd said, cocking his head. He’d never gotten that part, but he supposed he’d never drawn for anyone else. It sounded like writing an essay. In other words, horrendous.
"Hmm. I guess that's true," Colette conceded, beginning to turn the paintbrush over and over in her fingers. The corner of her mouth was starting to perk up in the beginnings of a small smile.
"And if someone doesn't understand it, I can just explain it to them for you," Lloyd said, well aware that it was an incredibly stupid idea.
"That's... definitely not how it works." Colette replied, breaking out into silent laughter as she set the paintbrush back on the palette. She covered her mouth with her hand, the tip of her thumb coated in dried green paint.
There. A laughing Colette was a much nicer sight.
Before Lloyd could think up of anything else funny to say, Noishe's loud bark cut through the air, alerting Lloyd to the fact that his dog had retrieved the squeaky toy and was on his way back. A quick scan of the park showed Noishe barrelling straight towards them on a crash course - one that inevitably ended with Noishe headbutting Colette’s legs. The toy dropped from Noishe’s slack jaws onto Colette’s sneakers, Noishe collapsing onto his haunches. Lloyd winced, watching Noishe shake his head, as if to shake the stars from his vision. That must have hurt.
“Awww, good boy,” Colette squealed, having hardly felt the impact from Noishe’s collision. She bent down to pick up the toy, dangling it between two fingers without any care for the drool she was coming into contact with, reaching out her other hand to scratch Noishe under the chin.
Noishe, dizziness forgotten instantly, raised his head to expose more of his chin, a happy grin on his face. Colette laughed over Noishe’s cute behaviour, dropping the toy into her lap and proceeding to give him a good rub behind the ears with her other hand. Being attacked on two frontiers with rubs, Noishe could do nothing but howl contentedly and push his head closer to Colette. A slight breeze picked up, brushing his skin and causing the leaves of the rain tree to rustle above their heads. The ends of Colette’s braids were caught in the wind, a small, ecstatic smile on her face.
There it was again. The little flutter in his chest, like a butterfly had replaced his heart and was beating its wings as hard as it could. He was enraptured by the sight before him, the colours all around Colette suddenly more vibrant, much like the pools of paints she’d squeezed onto the palette. The deep green of the leaves, the gold of Colette’s hair, the azure of her eyes, the pale peach of her skin, the brown of Noishe’s fur. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope, giving him a window to a beautiful new world he had yet to experience but longed to, the key to which lay in taking Colette’s hand. He never wanted this moment in time to end, watching a joyful Colette being completely adorable, without a care in the world. It was now that he wished he had Colette’s skill at capturing features on a page with nothing but a pencil, for he wanted to engrave this moment permanently into his heart.
He could recognise a crush because of the countless ones he’d already experienced. When had his original platonic feelings melted into more? The signs had been there, even if he’d failed to recognise them until recently. Slowly, but surely, he’d fallen in love with his oldest friend.
His feelings towards her had both changed and remained constant. He felt the same warm happiness filling him from head to toe that he experienced from being close to any of his crushes, but it was both more intense and calmer, all at the same time. It was the recognisable joy he had always derived from being in Colette’s company, just deeper. It was safety, in the way she had always provided a safe haven - the one who knew all of him, even the parts of himself he hesitated to share to those he did not trust completely.
“Lloyd?” Colette asked, freezing as he leaned closer and used his nail to get rid of the fleck of yellow paint, thumb lingering for just a moment on her face. That life behind all of her animated mannerisms could be felt beneath the surface of her skin, running straight up into his arm and into his heart, jumpstarting it. His gaze flickered to her parted lips for just a second before he tore it back to her eyes, knowing full well he was on a collision course that could not be stopped. She was his sun, drawing him in with inexorable gravity and giving life at the same time.
Noishe had paused in his movements as well, staring at Lloyd with what seemed like knowing eyes. But that was impossible. Noishe was but a dog.
“You had paint on your face,” he mumbled, lowering his arm but not quite shifting away.
She blinked, staring into his eyes with a blank expression, the silence stretching on for an uncomfortable period. Lloyd swallowed, wondering if she’d seen right through him, no matter how improbable that was.
“Oh! Thank you.”
The silence was broken by Colette’s cheery voice as she seemed to return to her senses, sound rushing back into the world as she continued playing with Noishe. She didn’t seem to have caught on to him. He didn’t think she would, not for some time, perhaps not ever.
That was just how she’d always been. Oblivious to the attention she received, even though she had the kindest, most open heart he knew. She was so perceptive sometimes, able to pick up others’ negative emotions and rushing to comfort them, but seemed utterly blind and deaf to matters of the heart. She never seemed to get crushes. Not any that she confided in him, anyway. He’d never held that against her. Feelings were confusing. He knew that from firsthand experience.
It was quite possible she didn't swing his way at all. But it didn't really matter to him, for he didn't want Colette to change who she was. An awkward, kind dork that always had good intentions at heart. That was who he’d fallen in love with.
He had faith. Faith that they would always remain in each other’s lives - like a binary star system, caught in each other’s gravity and revolving around a common centre.
That was enough for him, whether these feelings grew stronger or faded with time. Who knew what the future would hold? Only time would tell.
Noishe, deciding that now was the time to stretch his legs again, pulled free of Colette’s touch. He reared up and placed both paws onto the palette, right on the paint that had not yet dried.
Lloyd shot to his feet, but it was too late to stop his rascal of a dog from running off. “Noishe! Wait!” Lloyd yelled in exasperation as he took off after Noishe, who was busy leaving colourful paw prints all over the grass, leaving Colette to stare after the two of them in astonishment. “I need to clean that paint off! Oi! Noishe!”
But Noishe paid him no heed, starting a game of cat-and-mouse - or rather, human-and-dog.
~~~
Colette knew she shouldn’t be giggling at Lloyd's predicament, but she couldn’t help it. Lloyd was still chasing Noishe around, even though Noishe had been caught multiple times. Each time, the dog had somehow managed to wriggle free, leaving more and more paw prints of paint on Lloyd during the struggle - on his arms, his class T-shirt, his shorts, even his hair.
It was a colourful sight to witness, to say the least, and it had given her mind something to mull over, finally.
Colette smiled, flipping her sketchbook to the next page and putting pencil to paper, the lines and curves flowing naturally now that the brick wall once blocking her path was gone. There were still only shadows of ideas rolling around in her head relating to the competition theme, but what she was sketching now had nothing to do with her art club competition.
Rather, it had everything to do with the scene before her: a boy pretending to be frustrated but unable to hide the grin on his face, and a dog who was clearly having the time of his life.
Hm. How to express it properly?
Maybe an assortment of colours would work...
~~~
27-years-old
"Lloyd!" Colette squealed as Lloyd purposely brought the roller brush across her arm, leaving a line of lavender against her skin. She flinched away from the mixed sensation of the smooth roller and the cold, viscous liquid. "That tickles!"
"That's payback for the black you got on me before this." Lloyd grinned, putting the brush back against the wall and rolling another broad line, putting the finishing touches on the swirl he’d been working on.
“That’s the last galaxy finished!” he declared, dropping the brush into the bucket of paint, where it plopped to the bottom, the metal handle banging against the sides.
“Just the stars and the doggie in the spacesuit left to do. We’ve made good progress in two hours! Good job us!” Colette cheered.
Lloyd took a step back and surveyed the wall of their bedroom, currently painted with swirls of purple and pink, done over a base of pure black that had been finished an hour ago. The room was suffused with the thick smell of paint. The swirls on the wall were a little messy, and didn’t quite resemble the perfect concentric circles of the Milky Way. But it was pretty good for a complete amateur like himself. The original idea had been for Colette to paint the entire thing by herself, since she was the one who knew what she was doing. But she’d insisted he join her, and he was so glad he’d heeded her suggestion. It was incredibly fun to see the colours come to life under his fingers, and doubly so because he was doing it with Colette, watching her get progressively splattered with more paint. There was, as Colette had said, still some work to do, but the final product would hopefully resemble the beautiful starry sky they’d seen on their honeymoon, recreated here for them to wake up to every morning.
Painting one wall of their bedroom was just a single part of the larger plan to decorate the plain little apartment they’d bought for themselves, something that made sense to give their home a personal touch. They’d handpicked and already bought the furniture, most of which had been moved in with the help of the friendly moving company. Their belongings were packed neatly into cardboard boxes, the majority of which were still stacked in corners, waiting to be unpacked.
“Shall we take a break first?” he offered. “Your arms must be tired. We can have a change of clothes and then rest in the living room on our new sofa.”
“Okay. But first… Boo!”
Before he had any time to react to that surprising reply, something poked him in the nose. Lloyd flinched away from the wet sensation, looking down to see Colette grinning mischievously, a thin brush in hand that she had used to do small strokes and which she had just attacked him with.
He rubbed his nose with his thumb, his thumb coming away stained in magenta. He resisted the urge to sneeze, blinking hard. Wow. It really was ticklish.
Schooling his face into an exaggerated shocked expression, he placed one hand on his waist and leaned closer to Colette. "Was that on purpose?"
She stuck out her tongue, eyes glinting with a cheeky light. "Maybe?" she replied, dragging the first syllable out and popping her lips at the end of the second.
Hm. Trying to act as cute as possible to prevent retribution, was she?
Well, it wasn’t working - no, scratch that, it was. Not that he could ever get mad at her in the first place.
But two can play at this game.
"If that's the case..." Lloyd turned her around by the shoulders, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him until her back was flush with his front, resting his chin on the top of her head. Colette let out a startled squeak in response, unsure what to expect. “I’ll just have to trap you here,” he whispered into her ear, his fingers reaching for her sides.
As if realising what was about to happen, Colette let out an alarmed squawk and tried to escape, but it was far too late. With the greatest approximation of an evil cackle he could manage, Lloyd dug his fingers into her sides, squiggling them around as he began the very effective counterattack that was tickling. Colette's greatest weakness.
“No - Lloyd - Stop!” Colette protested, squirming in his grip until her voice dissolved into peals of breathy laughter. Her fingers went slack as she lost her grip on the paintbrush, which fell against the floor. The floor was, thankfully, covered in a layer of newspaper. No leaving paint on the new marble tiles for them.
He was practically rubbing magenta into the old shirt she’d borrowed from him to wear for today, as he moved his fingers up and down, trying to hit every ticklish spot he knew. A little hard to do with all the moving around Colette was doing, but still manageable.
He finally stopped after what he deemed as an acceptable amount of time for enacting his revenge had passed. He didn’t want to go too hard on her, after all.
Colette was left breathless in his arms, glad for the recovery time - she wouldn’t have survived any longer. She could hardly walk as it was.
He released Colette from his grasp, satisfied that he’d won… whatever it was that he had just emerged victorious in.
If she was covered in random flecks of paint before, now she was practically engulfed in it, both sides of her shirt a muddied magenta from all the rubbing. If not for the different outfits, the pout on her face and the much greater amounts of paint everywhere, he would have thought he’d been transported back in time. He could still vividly recall the day all those years ago that she had handed over the drawing she’d started in the park, of him and Noishe, each stroke done in a different colour until the paper resembled a rainbow. And on that thin piece of paper he could see the hours of painstaking care she’d put into a piece that was never to be submitted for anything, her only reason for making it that she wanted to, both for herself and for him. All the intricate details, picked up by an observant eye and translated to paper with skill.
“A thank-you gift. For all your help,” she’d said, the newest song she had recommended to him blaring out of the earpiece that had fallen out of his ear, dangling by his neck. “Besides, I never did give you something in return for that seashell.”
"You still remember that?" he'd replied in astonishment as he'd accepted her gift with shaking hands.
Even now, he still kept that drawing, placed neatly in a clear folder for protection, along with all the other pieces of art she’d gifted him over the years. (Unlike most of his other documents, even vital ones. Those ended up in crumpled balls scattered everywhere that needed to be found in apartment-wide scavenger hunts.)
Her art was an excellent way to understand the world as she saw it - in a completely different way than him, for no two people could see the world the same way, and that was what made forming bonds with others all the more special. In her art, he could see the way she perceived beauty in everything around her, especially how she perceived it in people: as something to be admired and appreciated, but nothing more.
Now that he was free to take her hand in his, they could explore all the brand new avenues that had opened up in front of the two of them. And he would happily do so with her, finding out all the hidden nooks and crannies and all the secrets stored within this shiny new world, recording every second he spent with her into precious memory.
“That… that wasn’t fair,” Colette said in the present, bending over with her hands on her knees and pausing in between words to catch her breath. “That first time was an accident! You were the one who escalated it!”
Her words of protest didn’t match the bright smile on her face as she straightened up, hands held behind her back. She stood on the tips of her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. A peace offering, perhaps? To call an end to the paint war before the flames of carnage could consume all?
The next words out of her mouth, however, were not what he expected to hear.
“You’re not off the hook yet,” she muttered against his cheek.
In a flash, Colette attacked with her weapon of choice - revealing the paintbrush she’d somehow managed to retrieve without him noticing, hidden behind her back.
And so the paint wars continued, laughter and yells emanating from the small bedroom as thoughts of finishing the wall or even taking a break were completely forgotten in favour of more chaos.
~~~
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#fanfiction#multi chapter#tales of symphonia#colloyd#colloydweek2021#day 6: quote day#colette brunel#lloyd irving#noishe
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Fuze and tachanka or some other operators on the base find out about glaz' and kapkans relationship and seem really against it and homophobic and all that shit but turns out it was all just a big misunderstanding, either they though one was cheating on the other or kapkan was being abused(?) Cause of all the.. *cough* love bruises on his hips and shit Idk
That’s an interesting idea 🤔 I do have an idea planned for the cheating misunderstanding, for a fic involving poly!Spetsnaz, so since I didn’t want to re-use a similar premise, I chose to go with the “suspected abuse” one. It’s a really out there idea, and I’m a bit nervous about the result. It already got longer than I planned, since I was aiming for a snippet under 1k and this is around 2k 😅
You can read the story here in AO3 too!
Coming out to their teammates didn’t go as expected. First of all, it was an accident. Glaz knew Kapkan was uncomfortable with the idea, and while he was of the opinion they couldn’t hide forever, for the time being he agreed to keep their relationship a secret. That they ended up kissing in front of all their friends was an accident, a miscalculation they blamed on the alcohol.
It happened during poker night, which had become sort of a weekly tradition. Bets were made, drinks flowed freely, and in general their guard was low. After all, most of the people in the room were their friends, there was no reason for them not to relax.
At one point, Bandit tried to get Kapkan into some silly bet. Glaz wasn’t sure about the specifics, he’d been too busy trying to determine if Thermite was bluffing or not. He only heard the last part of the conversation, with Bandit saying that if he won, Kapkan would have to kiss Glaz. It was almost endearing how Kapkan’s friends were trying to set them up, albeit clumsily.
Then, to everyone’s bafflement, Kapkan replied, “I don’t need a shoddy excuse to kiss moy dorogoy.”
After which he grabbed Glaz by the neck of his shirt and kissed him. The sniper was confused, because while feeling Kapkan’s lips on him was always a delight, he also knew this went against the hunter’s wish to keep their relationship a secret.
Predictably, the room exploded: hooting, clapping, incoherent screaming... everyone seemed delighted by this development - probably because of the betting pool they had going on, as Glaz learnt later. The only ones looking glum were Fuze and Tachanka. Glaz wasn’t naïve enough to think they would be totally fine with it from the get go, but he hoped they would eventually see reason. Despite the prevalent attitudes in Russia, neither of them had struck him as particularly bigoted.
Maybe they were worried about what it could mean for the team, if this would cloud his or Kapkan’s judgement during a mission. So, for the time being, he put those concerns aside and enjoyed the rest of the evening playing cards, while an unusually affectionate Kapkan sat by his side.
Next morning Kapkan groaned and cursed when remembering how he accidentally outed them, but after the kiss and then going to sleep in Glaz’s room there was no backtracking now. The secret was out, and everyone seemed okay with it. Mostly. Tachanka and Fuze didn’t comment on it, but at least they acted as always around them. Well, around Kapkan. Glaz could swear their demeanor was warm with Kapkan and considerably colder around him. Which made no sense to Glaz.
For the rest of the week, he observed how both Fuze and Tachanka seemed to be fine with Kapkan yet became more guarded and silent around Glaz. There was also the fact they seemed to keep him away from the hunter. Tachanka often coming to snatch Kapkan away for some reason or another, or Fuze staying around instead of leaving the lovebirds alone. At some point he had the feeling they would forbid them to sleep in the same room if they could. None of it made any sense to Glaz. Why was he a problem in his teammate’s eyes but not Kapkan? Not that he wanted them to have a problem with the hunter too, but that one-sided distaste was really bizarre.
Glaz was a patient man, but he was also fed up with his teammates giving him the cold shoulder for no apparent reason, and decided it was time to have a talk with them. After asking around, he discovered Tachanka had taken Kapkan away for some extra training, which he wasn’t even surprised about, so he went to find Fuze instead. It was always easy to find Fuze, since he spent most of his free time in the workshop.
“Shuhrat, we need to talk.”
Fuze grimaced at that, maybe because he knew what this was about, or maybe because Glaz’s expression was the complete opposite of his usual friendly demeanor.
“I wanted to talk to you too. In private.”
The walk back to the dorms was excruciating, the silence between them heavy and awkward and full of anticipation of the worst kind. Once they were back in the privacy of the Spetsnaz quarters, Fuze just looked at him, clearly uncomfortable and presumably thinking of how to breach the issue. Glaz took a way more direct approach.
“Are you going to tell me now why Sasha and you have been treating me like I spat in your food and insulted your entire family?”
“I want to say I don’t think you’re the type of person to… I said nothing until now because I wanted to have more evidence one way or another, but Sasha insisted we had to act now.”
That made absolutely no sense and Glaz was getting increasingly pissed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It started two weeks ago now, with Sasha saying how Maxim was reminding him of his sister before her own divorce, and not in a good way.” The explanation made Glaz blink, trying to process what the hell was that supposed to mean. “Maxim started to act weird, refusing to use the communal showers, always wearing those damn hoodies of his zipped up almost to his face. There were also the injuries, the sprained wrist, the busted lip. He never explained those, deflected the questions, you know? And Sasha… during their sparrings he noticed how Maxim sometimes limped a little, and the bruises hidden by the clothing.”
While Fuze talked, Glaz had literally felt how a burning cold fury grew as he realised what was being implied. The sheepish look from Fuze at the end did nothing to ease the rage threatening to overflow.
“You really thought, even for a moment, I am the kind of man to abuse their partner?” He hissed, slowly losing his composure the more he thought about it. Because beneath the anger, he was devastated that one of his closest friends would entertain such an idea. “Is that what you’re fucking implying, that you thought I was hitting Maxim?”
“I didn’t believe that!” Fuze shot back, agitated. “Sasha was convinced there was something weird going on, and we both know he’s not reasonable when he goes in protective mode. After we found out about you two, I suggested we wait a few more days, see how things went.”
“And what’s your verdict now, hm? What do you have to say?”
“I think Max has been acting weird, but I’ve seen how you two are around each other too,” Fuze sighed. “And I’m not sure you even realise how in love you both look.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, both glaring at the ground instead of looking at each other.
“Why didn’t you come to me with your doubts?” Glaz’s voice was small, still laden with anger but letting the hurt shine through. “Why avoid me if you were convinced of my innocence?”
“Because I had no idea what to say or how to apologize! Hey Timur, sorry I was cold with you, I thought Max might be in an abusive relationship, but then we found out you’re together and now I feel like an idiot, how’s that as a conversation starter?”
“Well, it would have been better than saying nothing!”
“You’re right. I didn’t want to fuck up and I think I ended insulting you even worse. I’m sorry.”
Glaz nodded, silently accepting the apology. “About Maxim’s sprained wrist, do you remember how he boasted about swinging The Caber? Guess who ended up putting ice on his swollen wrist that night. The busted lip was from training, he didn’t tell me the details, so I assume it was an embarrassing and completely preventable accident he doesn’t want to disclose. As for the marks and bruises he hides, well. Couples fuck.” He felt a vindictive surge of satisfaction upon seeing Fuze blush violently, and continued his explanation despite Fuze telling him it wasn’t needed. “Sometimes I get carried away and get a bit too rough, but most of the time he’s the one asking me to mark him. Telling me to make sure he’ll feel it the next day. You should see my back, it’s like a wild animal scratched me. And you know how Max is, very private and weirdly shy about personal stuff. I guess he avoided the communal shower because he didn’t want people gossiping about the marks”
Ironically, that was exactly what happened. Kapkan would not be pleased if he learnt about it. In fact, if he learnt about this ridiculous situation about an abusive relationship, the hunter would raise hell. Glaz was quite sure he might even end up punching someone, most probably Tachanka.
“I’m sorry I acted like an idiot, and I’ll make sure Sasha realises he’s being an idiot too,” Fuze said again, looking truly remorseful. “You realise that if it had been you, or me, acting like that, Sasha would have done the same, right? He’s protective of all of us, even if he acts before thinking.”
“I know,” Glaz sighed. “I’m still pissed at him., though.”
With the air cleared, the unpleasant atmosphere was mostly gone, although Fuze acted like he wasn’t sure of how their friendship stood after that. Glaz wanted to reassure him they were still friends, but it could wait until tomorrow. He needed time to process everything first. It had been an extremely emotionally taxing conversation.
He retired to his room, ready to work through his feelings through painting, as he tended to do. Judging by how it was coming along, all jagged lines criss-crossing to hide the pattern beneath, Glaz was sure it wouldn’t be one of his best works, but at least it did its job to help him clear his mind. He was almost done when Kapkan barged into the room without even knocking.
“Timur, holy shit, you won’t believe the weird conversation I had with Sasha,” Kapkan said, a worried frown adorning his face.
“What happened?” Glaz was sure it wouldn’t beat his conversation with Fuze, at worst it would be on the same level, but then he doubted Kapkan would be so calm about it.
“I think Sasha might have a crush on me? He kept asking about our relationship, how long I’ve been dating you, and trying to talk about our sex life. He said I deserve someone who would love and worship me.” At this point, Glaz broke out laughing, Kapkan’s horrified expression making it even funnier. “Don’t laugh, I’m being serious! He was also weirdly hostile when talking about you, I don’t like it.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll talk with him and set things right. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” Glaz replied, knowing what was Tachanka’s problem, and how it would stop being an issue soon.
“Hmm,” Kapkan wasn’t convinced, that much was clear. “I’ll go with you and make sure he doesn’t act too much like an idiot.”
“I think you’ll be surprised, he might be reasonable.”
Kapkan narrowed his eyes. “Are we talking about the same Sasha?”
Glaz chuckled, because Kapkan was right. Tachanka was usually stubborn and hardheaded, but this time Glaz had information Kapkan didn’t know about. And for now, he wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to tell him. Painting finished, he put the brushes aside and cleaned his hands with a rag.
“Enough about Sasha. We haven’t had much time for ourselves this week, how about we make up for it?” Glaz tilted his head towards the bed, and Kapkan took the hint instantly, grabbing his hands and dragging Glaz to the bed with him.
Tomorrow there would be fresh marks on both of them, but he didn’t care. It was not a crime to leave a hickey or two on his lover, and part of Glaz wanted to see his teammate’s reaction.
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Run
This is a pointless AU, a little idea from elsewhere that’s in the process of turning into a story-esque thing, not a comedy or a drama as such, just a “here’s another way two people might find their way to each other” tale. Also I’ve never deployed a Giselle character, really, and I figured I might as well try. She’s not a bad guy, mind you, nor even an obstacle; the only obstacles, at base, are misunderstandings and circumstances. Conventional ones. They might accurately be called clichéd. Anyway, this is some kind of starting line. Bang. (That’s meant to be a starter’s pistol, by the way; don’t be getting any ideas.)
Run
At four in the morning, Myka Bering sat three steps from the bottom of the dark staircase in her apartment’s foyer and pushed her feet into new running shoes. They looked like nothing special: a standard navy blue faux leather, with their manufacturer’s stylized “Z” logo embossed in silver on the sides. The pristine white of both the slim soles and the no-tie laces pleased her, despite the fact that their just-out-of-the-box luster would of course start graying at the first exposure to the city.
Myka stood up in the shoes and bounced on her toes, her ritual commencement of every day’s run.
The instant her heels left the ground, she understood just how difficult her life was about to become.
For this decidedly unspecial-seeming shoe—the Deceit—represented the latest attempt by the Zelus athletic corporation to gain an insurmountable advantage in the sport of running.
Myka’s job was to stop them.
*
At her desk at work later that morning, Myka revised, for accuracy, her overly dramatic thought of the morning: a small part of her job was to help stop them. Her actual job was to co-direct certification and compliance for Athletics Authority International, the globe-spanning organization that governed running, jumping, and throwing events. The organization regularly dealt with issues of equipment inappropriately boosting performance; thus Deceits, understood one way—nondramatically—were just the latest technological challenge to the idea of a level playing field.
But based on her morning’s run, Myka did not think Deceits could be understood nondramatically.
“Did you try the Deceits yet?” she asked Pete Lattimer, her co-directing partner. They had taken to joking that in their area, he was the “athletics”—an Olympic-team-alternate decathlete—while she was the “international,” for she’d got her job based largely on her wide-ranging language fluency. Myka suspected that today, athletics aside, his answer would be “no”; they’d received the shipment of test shoes only a few days ago, and Pete was focusing more on language than sports lately anyway, Duolingo-ing his heart out in Spanish so as to one day be able to impress Kelly Hernandez, head of Latin American outreach, such that she would first agree to go to lunch with him and then, swayed partially by his language skills but mostly by his charm, acknowledge that they were destined to spend their lives together. Myka wasn’t at all sure Kelly was going to persuaded by Pete’s bilingual (or “bilingual”) flirting... though he was also concentrating heavily on vocabulary related to sandwiches, so he’d probably end up with at least a food-related happy ending.
“Nah,” he said, confirming her prediction about the shoes. “I’m guessing you must’ve, though. They as crazy as those trials records make ’em seem?”
“Crazier,” Myka said. “To me. But I want to know how they really feel. To a real athlete.”
“Somebody needs a real athlete? I see why Lattimer’s not up to it,” remarked a tall woman as she approached Myka’s desk. Myka looked up and smiled.
“Same goes for you, Giselle,” Pete said, but with cheer. “How’s communications?”
“Turn those children over my knee if I could,” Giselle replied, equally cheerful. “That’s where you can help: how’s your javelin these days?”
“Why don’t you just run away? I thought you were supposed to be fast or something.”
Giselle Wade was fast—Myka knew it, and she knew Pete knew it too. Giselle was a legend in East Texas, where she had shattered high school track records, particularly at the longer distances. She’d done the same to NCAA times, placing some out of reach for what would probably be generations. U.S. bests had fallen to her too, though worlds had been elusive... but she had some impressive Olympic hardware all the same.
“Outran you,” Giselle said, which was true; her 1500-meter times were faster than Pete’s had ever been.
They would have gone on for a while before they wound down, but their jabs gave Myka the opening she needed. “Speaking of running,” she said to Giselle, “did you try the Deceits?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“And exactly what you think,” Giselle said. Before Myka could get her to clarify, she went on, “And this very morning I heard Zelus wants to push a version with spikes for sprinters.”
Myka objected, “But the thin soles!” Sole height was a major issue. The Deceit’s predecessor shoe, the Zelus Induct—which had also given runners a clear advantage—had been recognizable due to its oversized sole, packed with lightweight foam, that effectively lengthened a runner’s legs. The sole contained within the foam a carbon plate that acted as a spring, enabling a stride that used less leg energy and thus translated into distance runners having more kick over an entire race. AAI had rapidly banned that shoe, but the Deceit upped the ante because it somehow managed to do all the Induct’s dirty work, and apparently even more, in a standard-sized sole. Sprinters’ soles were basically flat, though, so how could the foam and plates fit? Not to mention: “Why would Zelus want to start a fight on another front?”
“Some other company rolls out skinny little cheat spikes first if Zelus doesn’t get on it? Old story about the toothpaste and the tube? You know.” Giselle shrugged. “All we can do is try to slow it down.”
“Ha!” Pete barked. “I see what you did there! Slow it down! Fast shoes!”
Giselle shook her head and murmured “that man” mostly to herself, but a little bit to Myka, who nodded in sympathy a commensurate little bit. Then Giselle said, “Thank sweet Jesus I don’t have to run in Deceits or against them. Glad I’m out of that part of it now.”
“I’m glad I was never in it,” Myka said.
“You know you got the discipline,” Giselle said. She’d told Myka this before.
It was a real compliment, but: “I don’t have the gift,” Myka responded, as she had in the past.
“Discipline counts. Makes up for a lot.”
“Those Deceits do too,” Myka said. “I barely even broke a sweat this morning.”
“That’s a shame.”
Myka offered a “huh?” expression, though she was pretty sure she knew what was coming.
“You, all hot and sweaty?” And Giselle sighed, a parody of infatuation. “Yes indeed...”
Myka rolled her eyes, and then they both laughed. It was a ritual: Giselle “flirted,” Myka “suffered,” they laughed.
*
Some months ago, not long after Giselle had been brought on board by AAI, she’d asked Myka out.
“I have a boyfriend,” Myka had said, because that was what she almost always said, as a learned reflex, in situations like that.
“Well,” Giselle said. “Look at me, getting the wrong impression. Sorry, Myka. Guess we’ll keep it professional.”
Giselle tended to put a drag on the last word of every sentence, a vocal habit that kept a listener hanging: would she say more? It might or might not have been intentional, but it was effective, particularly when combined with her linger of a Texas drawl. Thus her “professional” came out “pro... fess... io... nal.” Myka half-expected her to follow up with “or not.”
“Well,” Myka said back, when it became apparent that no more was in fact forthcoming, “not totally professional. We can still get coffee, right?” Because she did like Giselle.
Ah, there it was: Giselle gave her a still-flirty head toss and said, “Not to make the same mistake twice, but I did ‘get coffee’ with a lady one time and it turned into three days in Monaco. So we’ll see...”
Myka rolled her eyes, but then she laughed, and Giselle did too: the start of the ritual.
That should have been that.
But an international athletic governing body was apparently like every other semi-hermetically sealed social environment: a school, a team, a lab. Things got around. Mere hours after that conversation—which, granted, had taken place in the 40th-floor elevator lobby, the transit funnel for every employee of AAI, which occupied the entirety of that skyscraper level—Pete had marched back into their area from lunch and confronted Myka with, “I heard Giselle asked you out.”
Myka had tried not to respond, because really, what was there to say?
He went on, “And I heard you told her you have a boyfriend, which is what you said way back in history when I asked you out.”
“History? That was less than two years ago.”
“Anyway, I heard she believed you. Just like I did.”
“That was the idea. With her and with you.”
“I still don’t see why you didn’t just say ‘Pete, I don’t want to go out with you.’ It would’ve been fine.”
“I’d barely met you. I had no idea if you’d be a decent guy about it.”
“But I am a decent guy. About everything! So it would’ve been fine.”
“But I didn’t know you were a decent guy.” She had barely started at AAI; all she’d known about Pete Lattimer was that he’d been a decent decathlete. And that was no help at all, for every new coworker she met was a former Olympian or member of some national team or at least a famous ex-coach. It all made her feel as if she had no business working for the organization in the first place. They should have said that “athletic” was a requirement... each successive introduction seemed to drum with more force into her that a law degree and several languages were nothing against a sub-four mile.
Given that insecurity, she hadn’t needed any additional inputs or variables, so when Pete had said, “We should get dinner after work sometime,” she’d said what she almost always said, as a learned reflex, in situations like that. It had become a reflex because regardless of any other complicating circumstances—such as a new job where her body itself didn’t belong—it was easier. It was almost always easier than whatever might follow her saying anything else.
Pete said, “You didn’t know I was a decent guy, so you lied about having a boyfriend. And now you’ve lied about it again.”
She’d winced at the word “lied.” It was accurate, but she didn’t like it. Then you probably shouldn’t do it, her conscience told her. She told it to shut up. Then she told Pete, “I know that and you know that. Giselle doesn’t need to know that.”
“But you already like her better than you would’ve ever liked me.” At that, Myka started to protest, but he waved her off. “You know I mean because she’s a lady. Why didn’t you say you have a girlfriend?”
Speaking of what was easier: “boyfriend” was easier than “girlfriend.” It raised fewer questions, and it raised fewer... thoughts. And that was easier too.
It was supposed to raise fewer thoughts, anyway.
Fortunately, Pete hadn’t waited for an answer, or for Myka to start thinking any thoughts, instead moving on to what he clearly found most important: “And lady-wise, don’t you think she’s hot? I think she’s hot.”
Myka sighed. “Yes, I think she’s hot. In fact I know she’s hot. I have eyes.”
“So go out with her. She’s hot, you’re hot. Sizzle!”
“I just don’t want to.”
“Then why didn’t you go ahead and tell her that? Do you think she isn’t a decent guy?”
“Pretty sure she’s not a guy at all,” Myka had said, trying to joke him into just... stopping.
She didn’t want to get into the complicated conversation that would have ensued if she’d admitted to having genuinely, if fleetingly, regretted her reflex—because he certainly wasn’t wrong about Giselle being a woman, and he double-certainly wasn’t wrong about her looks. She was stunning; she’d had that wildly successful athletic career, then transitioned with seemingly no friction at all into modeling, at which she was even more wildly successful. Her legs were as long as the miles she used to run, and Myka was certainly, in that sense, human.
But Giselle had already developed a reputation at AAI, despite her brief tenure, for what could charitably be called a... short attention span. Maybe it was the inevitable result of her having been able to have just about anything—and anyone—she wanted, in not one but two elevated realms, or maybe it had always been Giselle’s personality as a romantic socializer, but while Myka had no trouble observing it from the outside, as a characteristic of her friend Giselle, she didn’t particularly want to be subjected to it. What if she slipped and overinvested? Exactly the kind of difficulty she didn’t need, regardless of any other complicating circumstances. Exactly the kind of difficulty she had never needed, and if she had slipped and fallen into it in the past? Well, that was the past, and she certainly didn’t need to revisit any part of that, much less repeat it.
These months later, however, some days Myka had a vague sense that a day should come when she should talk herself into telling Giselle she didn’t have a (nonexistent) boyfriend anymore. A day, that was to say, when she should ask for Giselle’s attention, if only for a short span. It seemed normal, human, to think that a short span of time, even if it led to a complicating slip and overinvestment, might—should?—be better than nothing, and so some days, Myka tried to want to talk herself into that.
But on different days, she’d think, definitively, I don’t want to. Because talking herself into it felt dishonest. Even if Giselle subscribed solely to Pete’s “she’s hot, you’re hot; sizzle” theory of the case, even if both of them might have enjoyed much of that short span of time: dishonest. Inauthentic. Deceitful.
“You’re not very good at having fun, are you?” Pete had asked her once, when she’d told him, in response to his sincere inquiry, that she had never actually dreamed of having Disneyland all to herself for a day. She’d agreed that no, she really wasn’t very good at having fun, and he’d said, “You need to get out more. Maybe not to Disney, but you need to get out more.”
You need to get out more. She’d laughed at him, because the most out she ever got, away from work, was for her 4am run. That, she could talk herself into without feeling dishonest at all. Far from it: she reveled in the discipline required for that strict self-persuasion every day, which was probably why she’d found that she could, ultimately, work well—reasonably well—with athletes. Athletics at its highest level was discipline, and Giselle and Pete and most of the others could see that Myka got that, even had that, as Giselle kept telling her.
But as Myka always told Giselle in return (not that Giselle needed telling), for real athletes, that discipline had to be kissed by the divine, and Myka had no access to such physical divinity. None at all. She was an exercise runner, lowest of the low in terms of athletic esteem. She knew because that was how the athletes said it, with a twist of pity: exercise runner. That was what she was, and she knew it.
Until she ran in the Deceits.
They were named, of course, for their unassuming look and for the illicit advantage they gave the world-class athletes. But for Myka-the-unesteemed, they were differently deceptive: they made her feel like A Runner. Giselle and her peers had been born with the kind of legs these shoes changed Myka’s into, springing from the ground with power, creating a feeling of “this is my body; this is what it can do, and if I push, still more,” and miraculously—deceptively—there was still more it could be pushed to do. Myka felt like her body before the Deceits had been Clark Kent, like it had been waiting for the chance to reveal that it wore the suit and had superpowers, like this had always been how she could run.
It wasn’t real. But it felt real.
So she understood why Deceits were breaking records—speed records now, but eventually, they would break sales records, too.
She also understood, very clearly, that they should be banned.
Even for exercise runners like her: deceiving oneself, Myka felt, was worse than deceiving others, regardless of whether they were fellow competitors or the outside world in general. Just as she didn’t want to talk herself into Giselle, she didn’t want to run every morning in those shoes. If she did, that self-deception would become a habit of mind, and Myka deep-knew that being clear-eyed about oneself was essential. A moral duty, her inner rector told her, and even though she would probably have been happier to not live her life quite that ramrod-straight (to, for example, be better at having fun), it had been her thought as she’d begun that first run in the Deceits. She’d kept on thinking it, throughout her entire route, as she devoured the miles with her newly athletic strides. Clear-eyed, mor-al, du-ty. Right-left, right-left, right-left.
*
Administratively, the world of athletics moved at a speed inverse to that of the track. The relatively “rapid” ban of the Deceit’s predecessor had taken six months to work out and implement, so it was no surprise that several weeks elapsed before AAI even scheduled negotiations with Zelus reps over the new shoes. They would be delicate, the negotiations, for Zelus money was essential to the sport. It was imperative not to make any penalties too prohibitive or too “insulting” to the company or its affiliates. Could already-ratified world records set in Deceits be voided? Would that lead to Zelus-sponsored athletes boycotting competitions? Could Deceits be banned? Would that be at all enforceable?
Myka knew that Dan Badger, the president and CEO of AAI, would be scrutinizing everything she and Pete and their team proposed. Newly appointed to show that AAI was turning a regulatory corner, he had made clear that his watchword was “integrity,” and that applied not only to the sport as a whole, but to every athlete who participated in it, every piece of equipment they touched, every employee under his purview, every official action they took. Unofficial actions, too: there was, as far as Myka could tell, no ethical give in Badger’s worldview. Where prior heads might have made a handshake deal of some sort with Zelus’s own CEO with regard to the Deceits—and Myka suspected something along those lines had occurred for the Inducts, most likely involving a wink-nod to the already-in-the-pipelines Deceits—Badger would have considered the mere suggestion of such a thing a personal affront.
“Why doesn’t Badge like you more?” Pete once asked Myka. “You’re exactly like him.” Myka wasn’t, in fact, exactly like him, for Badger was an athlete’s athlete, a hurdling champion from a decades-ago golden age of British track and field. That gilded aura was a carapace around him, deflecting whatever might have been directed his way from beings he considered lesser, including nonathletes like Myka. It wasn’t actively insulting or cruel, just... clear. The athletes called him “Badge,” among themselves and to his face, while Myka had the sense that if she uttered that collegial syllable, no one, and certainly not the man himself, would even perceive that any sound had escaped her lips.
Pete wasn’t entirely wrong, though; Myka had enough consonance with Badger that she couldn’t quite bring herself to resent him. His absolutely unimpeachable reputation was supplemented by the fact that he looked exactly as an athletic lion of his age and era should: face appropriately tanned for health and creased for character, hair silver and full, height calibrated as if to the millimeter to be imposing but not incongruous. He was the ideal figurehead for an organization that wanted to burnish its standing as a virtuous guardian of all that was competitively good in athletics.
In the end, Myka’s own inclinations aligned with her need to fulfill Badger’s expectations, yet neither she nor he could change the underlying economics of the sport. She might have been moved, under other circumstances, to restore her single-run-sullied Deceits to their silver Zelus box and push that box to the back of her closet, but instead she spent an inordinate amount of time looking at them. Was there any way at all to tell, just by looking, that they could do what they did?
Enforcement was a matter of measurement and testing, but these shoes were a drug for which no test existed. AAI had hired a group of materials engineers to take them apart, so Myka now knew how they did what they did: even newer foam, plus two carbon plates, set at angles to each other. They really might as well have been springs—invisible to the outside-shoe naked eye, but springs all the same.
AAI could nominally ban double-plate soles, but it couldn’t possibly dismantle every Zelus runner’s footwear at every event to ensure that the ban was being respected. Myka saw no way out other than to ban Zelus shoes across the board (for she’d been thinking, too, of what Giselle had said about spikes), but that brought her back to financial impossibility. And around she went again. And again. And again.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the rest of athletics administration proceeded without heed for Deceits, no matter how long Myka stared at them, no matter how many negotiating scenarios she tried, unfruitfully, to game out. Meets and championships and trials all continued, requiring level upon level of authorization and accompanying paperwork...
One morning, Myka was concentrating, squint-eyed, on a spreadsheet when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Pete,” she began, still squinting at her screen, “I told you if I don’t approve the new certification tables for posting this morning—”
“I’m so sorry,” said an English-accented female voice, “but I’m not Pete. And I seem to be lost.”
Myka looked up. No, you’re not, was her first thought, which resolved into: You’re not Pete, and you’re not lost. You belong right here.
TBC
*
A few notes, just because:
I made up the governing body; it’s intended to be vaguely like the real organization World Athletics (formerly IAAF), which determines what’s allowable in track and field competition, but I’m not trying to replicate its structure at all. Further, the actual organization maintains that it doesn’t consult with shoe companies before making regulatory decisions... whether you believe that claim is of course entirely up to you.
Two passages from Freud’s Civilization and Its Discontents are in some sense guiding my thinking here (because I’m like that). The first is this: “Man has, as it were, become a kind of prosthetic God. When he puts on all his auxiliary organs he is truly magnificent; but these organs have not grown on to him and they still give him much trouble at times.” He’s talking about cars and eyeglasses and such things, but obviously the idea is applicable to athletic tech. An idea from a little earlier in the book seems relevant as well: “What we call happiness in the strictest sense comes from the (preferably sudden) satisfaction of needs which have been dammed up to a high degree, and it is from its nature only possible as an episodic phenomenon.” Right? We’ll see about that latter part though, Dr. Freud.
Finally, as that rude anon suggested some months ago, I’m obviously speaking to a community that’s mostly inactive now. But I’m a keeper of faith: one of the things I do best is wait. So one point of this story is that it exists. I’m waiting. C’mon and wait with me, if you like.
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“Let the motherfucker burn—” sentence starter
You are getting so much more than you asked for, topolino. I dropped everything i had to write this as soon as I saw it. I read this ask and literally had a vision. Thank you.
TW: murder, toxic relationships i guess?, copia being a bastard man.
- Kat
(if you pick and choose which one of our posts to read, i am begging you to make it this one)
"Il mio amore più caro, how I can't get enough of you." The youngest Emeritus brother crooned into your ear as he brushed your hair back over your ear and behind your neck. Your lied with most of you on his chest, on a bed of messed white sheets that matched the curtains blowing in the gentle breeze from the window. The sun cast a golden haze over the room as it set oh so slowly, in the beginning hours of the evening. Rather then reply, you simply muzzled deeper into his chest and held the arm wrapped around you a little bit tighter. "IIl mio amore, il mio fuoco, il mio sempre." My love, my fire, mine always. That summer, the air was always humid, the sun was always golden, the flowers were always blooming, and the sound of bicycles rolling down the streets of Florence never stopped. The world was bright, and full of flavors you had never experienced. Your rose colored glasses painted your lips and cheeks pink. Your husband at home, his wife, they weren't thoughts in your head. Falling head over heels for each other was your business for the summer, and the job was too demanding to call home.
"You know, we don't ever have to go home." Papa smirked into your ear with a soft sigh.
"Knowing that something must come to an end makes it all the sweeter. The cold of the winter months makes the sun feel hotter. The routine of every day makes the spontaneous resonate deeper in your heart. But with you, every day is a little vacation."
After leaving Florence and returning home, things were different. Fall succeeds summer, as it does every year. The pinks and blues of August fades to the rich browns and reds of the leaves on the trees that just haven't fallen yet in October. The Earth turns, and so the weather changes. You never minded the fall, no one you knew ever did, but after the warmth faded, you felt robbed. With every passing day it became more clear to you that you would only ever feel as alive as you did, for two months out of twelve, at best. When excited faded to content, content faded to rancorous loathing. Ardor to austere. As leaves die in change, something died when you two left Florence. You knew there was more to lose before the end of the year. The sky was grey instead of golden, when you woke up. Papa was already sitting at his desk with a cup of coffee and the mornings paper. You used to bring me coffee. You used to ask if I wanted a cup. We used to share every morning. Though it was merely words printed on thin paper that had a smell you could never describe, that newspaper was the most poignant symbol of the end. Your affair had become what you were both running from at home. Routine. So routine that you had seriously considered cheating on him. But cheating on the man you were having an affair with seemed useless. He didn't care, and neither did you.
The screeching of tires nearly ruptured your eardrums. The car's headlights that were once shining directly in your eyes were now separated by a tree that had crumpled the hood of the car. A few thousand in damages, but nothing that couldn't be repaired or at worst, replaced. You were stood in the center of the street, scared stiff. The door opened and slammed. "Jesus, y/n. I you could have killed me! What are you doing in the middle of the road?" His voice sent shivers down your spine. It was the most he'd made you feel in weeks.
"I could have killed you? You almost hit me with your car! The damned thing is better wrapped around that tree." In the midst of a screaming match, you both paused. The same realization striking two people at the same time. Your matched anger was the first thing you'd felt for each other since you left Florence. It didn't matter who was right, or who was wrong. It felt good. From there, the closer you pushed each other to the end, the more it felt like a beginning. Manic spurts of your gentle lover with his hands around your throat, not caring if you slapped and pushed him away. You aiming guns at him and near missing his heart, instead leaving a scratch on the side of his ribcage that you stitched for him after. You weren't sure if you wanted to miss or not. `Neither of you cared, but it was most you had really cared since those warm evenings in Italy. This was another six weeks, but six weeks of sleeping with one eye open leaves you with a less than clear mind.
"Wha- What have you done!" You screamed until your lungs hurt as you ran from the driver side of your truck to the group of masked ghouls standing around the wreckage. By the time you'd followed their trail, Aether ghoul had flicked the zippo lighter into the stream of gasoline that drailed through the hard sand. A black car - Papa's car. His screams, pulling on the door, banging on the windows. Beaten and begging for his life as the car went up in flames. "Get him out of there. Let him out- Aether what have you done-" Swiss grabbed you with both arms around your torso tightly, stopping you from running into the flames to free him. Tears burned hot in your eyes as you watched heard your lovers fated screams.
"He was always trying to kill you. You were trying to kill him. You shot him, y/n. And he tried to poison you. He had it coming." No matter how hard you tried you couldn't look away. You couldn't just shut your eyes, or run away, or stop listening. I didn't want this. I didn't want this. I never wanted this. I just wanted us to feel something.
"Besides, darling." You heard a voice that was entirely new to you. A man with a hat and an all black suit strode over slowly. He walked with a cane in one hand, gold rodent for the handle that he gripped tightly, the tail wrapping around his index finger like a ring. It glimmered in the light of the flames. His eyes were painted black, a thin mustache on his upper lip. He smirked. "It was his time anyways. Let the motherfucker burn." You turned back to the scene before you. You loved him. You loved that car. You'd spend hours in there smoking and giggling and kissing. You'd had sex in that car more times than you can count. And Papa. Both were a waste to see burn. You thought back to what he'd said in Italy. Ill mio amore, il mio fuoco, il mio sempre. My love, my fire, mine forever. My fire. Swiss hauled you back at the last second before you watched it explode.
#ghost#ghost bc#the band ghost#ghost band#papa iii#cardinal copia#copia#cardi c#kat#sentence starter#murder#fire#death#dying#long post
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And They Were Roommates (3)
Summary: Unforeseen circumstances lead to you needing a roommate; when Bucky steps up, old feelings come back to light. The only problem is that he has a girlfriend.
Warnings: Cursing,
Words: 1161
Written for @babylevines writing challenge! the prompt will be in a later chapter :)
Note: This chapter is when things get juicy, I hope you guys don’t hate me too much after it :) Very excited for you to read chapter four because it’s probably my favorite one in the whole series!
Masterlist and Series Masterlist in Bio!
Living with Bucky was much more fun than living with Jessica. For starters you actually spoke to each other, eating breakfast and dinner together every day. You’d wake up, get ready, and then meet in the kitchen before going to your respective classes. Then after your classes were over, you’d come home and whoever’s turn it was would make dinner. You’d do the dishes together, and if you didn’t have too much homework you’d watch something on Netflix before going to bed. It was oddly domestic, in a way you didn’t like to think too much about.
Bucky talked about Dot sometimes, but she rarely came over to your apartment. When she did you barely spoke, and you could definitely tell she wasn’t the biggest fan of Bucky’s new living arrangements. You had to remind yourself a couple of times that their relationship was none of your business, especially when she
You didn’t have any classes today, so you and Tony were going to spend the whole day in his lab. The whole space was gorgeous, and because it belonged to Tony, you were allowed to basically do whatever you wanted. The building wasn’t a part of the school, but it was right across the street from it. After he blew up the campus lab for the second time. Tony had decided to just buy a warehouse close by and do his work there. And because you were one of his best friends, you had your own space in the building.
Your favorite part of the lab were the floor to ceiling windows in front of your workspace. You could see everything happening outside, but nobody outside could see you. It was great because it let in a lot of natural light, and from time to time you’d take a break and people-watch. Sometimes you and Tony would work together but today you had separate projects that you wanted to finish while you had the day off.
You’d been working for a couple of hours, when you decided to take a break and look out at the people outside. You didn’t like leaving your area a mess, so you were organizing some of your tools, when you noticed a couple making out right in front of your window. The amount of PDA was making you a little uncomfortable, but before you looked away you noticed something familiar about the girl. Holy shit. The girl was Dot. Fuck. Dot was cheating on Bucky. Holy fuck. “Fuck, fuck, holy fucking fuck,” you whispered.
Quickly you pulled your phone out and took a couple of pictures, for proof when you told Bucky. How were you going to tell Bucky? Were you going to tell Bucky? “Of course I’m going to tell Bucky,” you said out loud. This was the most awkward situation you’d ever been in, but you knew it would get even worse when you had to tell Bucky that his supposedly loving girlfriend was with another guy.
There was no way you’d be able to concentrate on anything now, so you left your work behind and went to go talk to Tony. “What are you working on?” you asked, walking into the main room of the warehouse where he worked on his larger projects.
““I’m trying to figure out a couple of bugs in the new repulsor tech that I was telling you about last week.” He looked up from where he was working on the blueprints on one of his tablets. “Okay whats up?” This was why Tony was your best friend, he was always able to pick up on when something wasn't right with you, without you having to say a single word.
“Hypothetically, if Steve was cheating on you would you want someone to tell you?”
“Yeah, of course, but this isn’t about Steve and me. So what’s actually wrong?”
“I just saw Dot cheating on Bucky.”
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, dropping his tablet onto the metal table.
“Yeah that’s how I reacted too,” you replied.
“And you’re sure it’s her?”
“Positive,” you affirmed. “She was over at ours last night, so her face is pretty fresh, plus I have pictures.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket and swiped forward on the photo, projecting it into the air.
“You gonna tell him?”
“I have to, don’t I?”
“It would be pretty shitty of you if you didn’t.”
“I’ll tell him when I get home,” you decided. “Can you distract me for the rest of the day? I don’t think I can concentrate on any of my actual work right now, but I don’t wanna go home yet.” It was unspoken that going home meant facing Bucky that much sooner, and that was definitely something you were trying to put off.
“Sure, we can work on that game I was putting together with Jarvis and the holograms.” You and Tony spent the rest of the day messing around with the tech in his lab, having so much fun that you almost forgot about what was waiting for you when you got home.
The keyword there was almost. Each time Tony suggested packing up and leaving, you shot him down, pushing him to keep working. Before you knew it was coming up to nine in the evening and Tony had to put his foot down and drive you home.
“Good luck!” he called to you as you left his car and entered your building. Here goes nothing, you thought to yourself, putting your key into the lock and pushing the door open with your hip.
“I’m home!” you announced, walking into the living room, and stopping in your tracks when you saw Bucky and Dot cuddled together on the couch. Fuck. What were you going to do now? You couldn’t say anything, but you couldn’t talk to him without it coming out.
“It’s pretty late, was starting to worry,” said Bucky.
“You know how I get when I’m really into a project––” or when I’m trying to avoid someone “––guess I just lost track of time?” You shrugged awkwardly.
“We’re watching a movie, wanna join us?” Dot didn’t seem to be too happy with his suggestion, and there was no way you were willingly going to put yourself in a situation that’d make you that uncomfortable, so you made up an excuse to get out of the room as quickly as possible.
“Nah, I’m heading to bed, see you in the morning!” You almost sprinted into your room, only realizing that you’d forgotten to eat dinner once the door was shut. Fuck. This day literally could not get any worse, and you didn’t even get to tell Bucky about Dot, meaning that you’d have to keep it in for another day.
Lucky for you, you had a snack stash in one of your drawers; so your dinner consisted of Sour Patch Kids and a bag of Cheetos that you couldn’t guarantee weren’t expired. Guess this is my life now.
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan#winter soldier#marvel#bucky barnes fluff#tw cheating#bucky barnes smut#mimis4kchallenge
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Hell Is Hot CH 1
Ambrose appears, “You rang, cousin?” His voice gets high pitched as he notices the attractive guy behind Sabrina.
Sabrina sighs relief. “I did. I need your help with something.” Sabrina turns around to address Caliban. “Caliban, I’ll see you later. Bye!” She says hurriedly.
Caliban smirks down at her. “As you wish but can I stop by later tonight?”
Sabrina looks shocked and slightly embarrassed as she can feel Ambrose smiling behind her. “What?” is all she can muster out.
He smirks even harder at her. “To speak about the proposal—“
Sabrina quickly cuts him off. “Yes. Fine, yes. Leave now and meet me back here at the library later tonight.”
He smiles. “As you wish, my queen.” He says as flames encapsulate him and he disappears.
She turns around to Ambrose embarrassedly. He smiles and taps her with rolled paper in his hand.
“Back in the saddle already, I see. What’s this talk of a proposal? What kind of proposal?” He shifts his smile into more of an interesting facial expression.
Sabrina looks surprised. “I’m ignoring that and also it’s a hell thing, I’ll tell you all about it later, but right now I need your help.”
Ambrose goes to sit in his chair as Sabrina tells him her plan to use the hedge witches to capture Circe so she can bring Roz and Dorcas back.
After they use Circe to bring back dorcas and Roz everyone begins reuniting, meanwhile Sabrina sneaks away to go to the library and wait for Caliban.
She gets to the library and locks the door. While she waits for Caliban she begins thinking about his proposal. It sounded sincere and he sounded like he was willing to work on outlining a plan. Maybe we can write up a magical document so that I can assure he won’t go against his word. We’ll have to talk about how a political alignment would go. I’m so young I don’t want to completely give up on love by aligning myself to Caliban and to Hell. Also his eagerness of marriage and sexual activities makes me wonder if he’s a virgin but I doubt it with all the sex demons. Just
At that thought Caliban showed up and I just about fell off the table I was half sitting on.
“Sorry princess didn’t mean to startle you.” He said smirking at me.
Looking down slighting embarrassed, “It’s fine, Caliban.”
He goes to sit down on the small couch.”Now have you considered my proposal?”
I began walking towards him to join him on the couch. “I have, actually. I think we should discuss some things.”
“What is it that you’d like to discuss, my lady?”
“For starters I think if we’re going to get married we should outline our terms and agreements and sign it in blood and clay to bind us to the contract. And we should discuss the logistics of our marriage, not just hell. This is a big decision that will affect the realms and my personal life.”
Caliban bites his lip for a moment thinking before he answers. “Well my queen, you wished not to have a lustful or romantic relationship, so that shall be. I hope for our kingdom we can have something platonic.” He smiles while in a thought before continuing. “If you choose to get over your warlock reconvene then if you would like to enter into a relationship.”
Sabrina was a bit surprised by his thought out answer. “I’m sad but I’m over Nick — I burned my feelings for him with a double wicked candle.”
Caliban sits up slightly confused. “Then why do you not wish to have a relationship with me?”
Sabrina’s facial expression softens. “Caliban we know nothing about each other to be in a real relationship.”
“Okay so why not a sexual one?” Caliban says eagerly.
“Caliban— we can’t— I’m not — I’m a —.” She stops and sighs a little bit. “Caliban, have you ever — are you a virgin?”
Caliban's face was blank for a second and then a smug smirk crept upon his face. “Ah I see princess. Your warlock had no problem fornicating with others, but not you? To answer your question, yes I am a virgin. I don’t wish to pleasure myself with sex demons and I prefer to read and research.” He pauses and before she could speak he continues. “So what was wrong with the mortal then? He clearly loves you so why did you two never act on your lustful impulses?”
Sabrina looks down feeling a ray of emotions. Shocked that Caliban is a virgin but refreshed that he doesn’t wish to have tons of sex demons— why is she refreshed though? She looks back up at him and then back down. “Harvey only liked me when he knew I was mortal. When he found out who I really was he couldn’t accept all of me. Nick knew who I was but the timing was never right, so he instead lied constantly and cheated. Now he can barely look at me.” She looks at Caliban as a tear rolls down her cheek.
Caliban wipes the tear from her cheek. “My queen if it is someone you wish to know everything about you to share a carnal embrace with, we can get to know each other. “
Sabrina rolls her eyes but smirks nonetheless. “Let’s outline our terms to the agreement.” She said turning the scroll she pulled out before he got there.
Caliban stays put. “So you’ll marry me?”
Sabrina doesn’t look up front the scroll as she begins to write formalities. “Yes Caliban but not right away. We’ll announce it in a week's time when we are supposed to complete the third challenge. I think we should complete the third challenge together and then announce our engagement afterwards.”
Caliban sits forward to begin discussing agreements.
-------------------------------------------An Hour Later-------------------------------------------
“Okay so we’ve finished our agreement to the kingdom but I’d like to discuss if I could still go to mortal school and you handle hells business during that time?” Sabrina looks at him promisingly.
Without missing a beat Caliban says. “I will agree to you going to mortal school if you live with me and spend your evenings in hell.” He looks like he’s not going back on it.
“Okay. As long as you agree to eat breakfast and dinner with my family everyday.”
Caliban smiles. “As you wish. Shall we put it in the agreement and sign?”
Sabrina says nothing as she puts the final touches on the agreement and they sign in blood and clay. Sabrina stands up and pats her legs. “Okay it’s getting late and I have school in the morning I should —“
Caliban stays sitting. “Shouldn’t we get to know each other a little bit? Then I shall take you home?”
Sabrina considers it for a moment before sitting back down. “Okay for a little while. Tell me about who made you? Your family?” Sabrina says kind of searching for words.
Caliban shakes his head quizzically. “Well time works differently in hell but I believe I’ve been around for about 3 mortal months. The Kings made me in the pits of hell to challenge Lilith on the throne. I’ve been studying and researching in the library mostly. Tell me about your mortals.”
Sabrina scoffs. “They’re not MY mortals, they’re my friends. Roz is my best friend. Harvey and Theo are great. It’s been a bumpy friendship but we’re good now.” Sabrina says sighing peacefully.
Sabrina and Caliban sat there for a little while longer talking.
Caliban stood up. “I should get you home to your mortal life now princess.”
Sabrina stood up ready to go grabbing the scroll. “Yeah maybe I can get some sleep before school.”
She sighed as Caliban transported them to her bedroom.
“So this is what a mortal bedroom looks like?”
Sabrina laughs “This is what my room looks like, Caliban. Okay get out of here before my aunties figure out I have the prince of hell in my bedroom.”
Caliban smirks. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, my queen”
“Tomorrow?” Sabrina says confused.
“To spend time with each other.” Caliban says grinning as he vanished before she can reply.
#calbrina#caliban#sabrina x caliban#chilling adventures of sabrina#CAOS#caliban fanfic#calbrina fanfic#hell is hot
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My favorite Denver restaurants
How was your week?
My week included being invited to have a threesome with two of my work clients, who are both meth addicts and lost custody of their child due to said meth addiction.
My boss asked me to send the text to her and just replied “FOR GOD SAKE” and I feel like that’s the perfect summary of my year.
Speaking of meth, we finally finished watching “Tiger King” this week. I know I know, that show is so one month ago. But I have a lot of thoughts that I need to share with the world.
1. Did anyone else find Joe really sympathetic and felt bad for him? Yes, I know he’s unstable and probably killed animals and stuff but I found him...endearing!?
2. Doc Antle is the creepiest ever ever ever.
3. Jeff Lowe sucks. And his wife is way too young for him. And THE WHOLE THING WITH THE NANNY I JUST CAN’T.
4. The guy with no legs whose name I can’t remember was my favorite character. And just seems so normal. How did he end up there!?
5. I’m proud of Saff for standing up for Joe in the aftershow...everyone else just sold him down the river!
6. Howard Baskin. Howard Baskin singing. Howard Baskin’s wedding photos with Carole Baskin. The show is worth watching just for Howard Baskin.
7. Do I think Carole murdered her husband and fed him to a tiger? Yes. Would I still hang out with her in a heartbeat? ABSOLUTELY.
8. I’m extremely mad that I didn’t come up with “hey all you cool cats and kittens”. And now it’s already over-used.
Do you miss eating at restaurants as much as I do? (Probably not because you’re probably a normal person who has friends and other hobbies). I miss restaurants so much it HURTS. I miss looking up menus and deciding what I’m going to order days before I go. I miss people-watching and commenting on everyone else’s food. I miss kind servers bringing me baskets of bread and drinks that I didn’t make. I MISS RESTAURANTS YOU GUYS.
So, while I’m eagerly waiting for restaurants to start re-opening, I thought it would be fun to share my very favorite places to eat in Denver. Share this list with your favorite Denver local! Or better yet, come visit Denver and try these spots out (and invite me!!).
Cuba Cuba: This was the first restaurant I tried in Denver, because it’s across the street from our old apartment. It’s located in an adorable blue bungalow but is surprisingly spacious on the inside. For drinks, order their house made mojitos or a pina colada. For appetizers, order the plantain chips with guacamole and garlic sauce (YUM) or the empanadas. Everything I’ve eaten there for dinner has been delicious, but I especially love the coconut shrimp and the chimichurri steak.
Perfect for: a date night or girls’ night where you feel like getting a little dressed up (but you’d be fine going there dressed more casually).
Rioja: This is my mom’s favorite Denver restaurant, and she insists we go every single time she’s in town. It’s located in Larimer Square, the cutest and most charming street in downtown Denver. It’s a bunch of old Victorian buildings that have been converted into restaurants and shops, and the street is decorated with twinkly lights and Colorado state flags so it’s a great spot to get a touristy picture when you visit.
The menu changes constantly, so it’s hard to recommend exactly what to order, but you can’t go wrong with the pasta dishes. They are known for their artichoke tortelloni and it’s honestly the best pasta I’ve ever eaten in my life. Last time we also ordered the tagliatelle and clams which was fantastic. For starters, order the smoked pear and raclette if it’s available-so yummy.
Also, Rioja makes all their bread in house, and it’s probably our favorite part of the restaurant. Waiters literally come around with a giant tray of bread and I always try every single type. The lavender sourdough and rosemary biscuit are life-changing.
Perfect for: when your parents come visit (and pay!) or a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday dinner. It is on the pricey side.
Work & Class: This is probably the Denver restaurant I’ve eaten at the most. Located in the very hip Five Points neighborhood, Work & Class is always busy and does not take reservations, so I would recommend going on a random weeknight vs. a Friday or Saturday. If you do go on the weekend, plan on an hour plus wait-the good news is you’re surrounded by bars and breweries to help pass the time.
Work & Class is a South American/American fusion restaurant, and everything is served tapas (small plates) style, so go with someone you are cool sharing with. They have fabulous in-house cocktails which change seasonally, so definitely order one while you peruse the menu. It’s hard to make food recommendations since I’ve probably tried everything on the menu and have never been disappointed, but some of my favorites include: the lamb, the empanadas, the mac & cheese, and any of their vegetable side dishes.
Perfect for: your group of friends who you’re comfortable sharing with (eating off of each other’s plates!).
Mercantile Dining & Provisions: This is another spot that my mom insists on visiting every time she comes to Denver. It’s located in Union Station in downtown Denver, which is itself a great spot to visit. It’s an old train station (that is still a working train station) but also home to a hotel, an ice cream parlor, a bookshop, a florist, and every other small adorable business you can imagine.
Mercantile serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner (I’ve had all 3 there), but my mom and I have created what we believe is the perfect system for dining there. We always go on the day she is leaving town, since she can take the train from Union Station to the Denver Airport after our meal. We try to go around 11am, and we order a raspberry muffin. My mom doesn’t even like muffins, but these are no ordinary muffins-not too sweet, perfectly fluffy, moist (I’M SORRY) -just sheer perfection. After sitting and people watching for about an hour, we then order a short rib sandwich around noon, as soon as they start serving their lunch menu (it gets quite busy at this time). SO GOOD. SO TASTY. Plus, the restaurant itself is so cute-it looks like Joanna Gaines designed the perfect black-and-white chic modern farmhouse.
Perfect for: brunch/lunch after a morning exploring downtown Denver, or a quick bite before catching the train to the airport.
Lowdown Brewery: Is it cheating that this is actually a brewery and not a restaurant? I say it counts because they make all their food in house. I don’t always love going to the popular breweries around Denver because they’re usually packed. I’ve never seen Lowdown packed and in my opinion it’s the best brewery in Denver in terms of food and ambience-and the beer is good too!
Not only do they make and sell their own beers, but their menu always features a seasonally rotating list of Colorado beers as well. They have a lot of IPA’s (which I despise but everyone else seems to love). I’ve tried their blood orange wheat, selfish (pale ale), and their blackberry sour and have enjoyed all three. In terms of food, you can’t go wrong with any of their pizzas, salads, or sandwiches, but I personally can’t get enough of their beer cheese dip (served with broccoli, apple slices, and soft pretzel bites-I’M DROOLING).
Perfect for: sitting out on their patio with friends in the warm weather. Bring your dog!
El Five: El Five has one of the coolest views of downtown Denver, not to mention delicious food and drinks and great service. Their sangria is the best I’ve ever tasted, but they have tons of great cocktail, beer and wine choices if that’s not your thing (but also what is wrong with you). For appetizers, try the spreads of the med-a platter of house made pita, hummus, and veggies. For their traditional tapas, I’ve tried and enjoyed the patatas bravas, the shrimp & calamari, and the goat cheese croquettes. Then, of course, you must try their paella. I’ve tried both the Valencian (made with rabbit confit!) and the seafood and would recommend either. Be prepared to log roll out of the restaurant when you’re finished because you will have gained 100 pounds.
Perfect for: a festive date night, dinner with your parents, drinks with your girlfriends-just be prepared for an expensive bill.
Stowaway: I’ve only been to Stowaway once, right before the shelter in place order started, but I’ve been dreaming about it ever since. First of all, it is tucked into the cutest former warehouse-turned-hipster-coffee shop/brunch spot, complete with exposed pipes and red brick walls. I AM HERE FOR IT.
We went on a Sunday morning with some friends who warned us to expect a bit of a wait. Fortunately, the Denver Central Market is just a few blocks away so we were able to enjoy some cocktails and/or coffee while we waited.
When we finally got in, I ordered the Colorful Colorado (an egg dish) because of the 8 million reviews I’d read ahead of time that told me I must order this dish or live a life of unending misery and regret (ok, that might be a slight exaggeration but it was something along those lines). I also split the fruit toast with Joshua because I have to order something sweet and something savory when I go to brunch (I know I have a problem, just leave me alone). Both were so freaking good. I can’t wait to go back soon and try everything on their menu (or more likely, order the same two dishes over and over again).
Perfect for: brunch with your favorite hipster friend.
Linger: This is the one restaurant on my list that I love more for the location/ambience than for the food, though the food is certainly tasty. Linger is located in my favorite neighborhood in Denver (LoHi or Lower Highlands) and the building it’s in USED TO BE A MORTUARY. Like, WHERE DEAD PEOPLE WOULD BE SENT AFTER THEY DIED. I personally find this so cool, and if this freaks you out, you would never know except that I just told you (sorry). It’s very airy inside with cozy mood lighting and exposed brick walls. This is another place that does small plates and they’re all globally-inspired street food dishes-the menu is literally divided by continent (i.e. Asia, Africa). For drinks, order the turmeric mule. For eating, you really can’t go wrong, but some dishes I’ve enjoyed include: the bao buns, the impossible burger persian sliders, the tuna tostadas, and the potato masala dosa. Skip dessert because right around the corner you’ll find Little Man Ice Cream-one of my favorite ice cream spots in the city.
Perfect for: a first date/date night, a girls’ night, or a summer brunch on their rooftop bar.
Snooze: Full disclosure-Snooze is a chain and is not just located in Denver; they have locations across Colorado and in a few other states including Texas and California. That being said, I just have to include it on my list because I believe it is completely worth the hype.
Because there is always a long wait (I’m talking 2 hours sometimes), we always go on a Monday morning when there’s a federal holiday that other people don’t get off, such as Columbus Day. Don’t kid yourself-there will still be a wait, but it will hopefully be closer to one hour. Plus, they give out free coffee while you wait!
I don’t even like pancakes, but I always order the pancakes here. ORDER THE DAMN PANCAKES PEOPLE. You can even get a pancake flight where you can sample three different types of pancakes (I highly recommend the blueberry danish pancakes and the sweet potato pancakes). If I’m in a savory mood, I’ll order the breakfast tacos with a side of one pancake.
Perfect for: brunch with your friend, brunch with family or anyone with kids, brunch with your arch nemesis, brunch with anyone.
Hopefully this list made you excited to go back to restaurants again in the future, instead of depressed! And please send me your best restaurant recommendations! These conversations are what I live for.
#denverrestaurants#denvereats#restaurants#food#foodie#denver#colorado#tigerking#carolebaskin#joeexotic
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Like Heaven (Part 2)
Read Part 1 here: https://crazy4dragons.tumblr.com/post/181155395406/like-heaven-part-1
"You know, Hiccup, I really think we should talk." Astrid held up her hair as Hiccup scrubbed her back.
Hiccup froze. "Right now?"
A week had passed since Hiccup and Astrid first slept together, and their fling was quickly proving to be more than just a one-night-stand. The morning after they lost their virginity, they'd taken a trip to the pharmacy and stocked up on condoms. For the past seven days, they'd had sex every night, followed by steamy kissing and cuddling as they drifted off to sleep. They'd made cooking breakfast together part of their morning routine. And now, they were showering together, quickly trying to get themselves cleaned up before they had to leave for their respective jobs.
The blonde shrugged. "It's as good a time as any." Letting her hair down, she turned to face him.
"What exactly do you wanna talk about?" Hiccup asked.
Astrid made a wide gesture with her arms. "This." She grabbed the shampoo. "We've been hooking up all week, and now we're naked in the shower together."
"Since when did you care about me seeing you naked?" smirked Hiccup.
"It's not about you seeing me naked. It's about us."
"What about us?"
"Well, for starters, we're supposed to be best friends. And I could be wrong, but I don't think best friends have sex." Astrid poured shampoo onto her hands and began working it through Hiccup's hair. "Or shower together, for that matter."
"Hey, I'm not complaining."
"And secondly," Astrid continued. "What about Heather? What would she say if she knew that you were sleeping with me when you're supposed to be her boyfriend? I mean, you do realize you're cheating on her, right?"
Hiccup shrugged.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The blonde narrowed her eyes.
Hiccup didn't reply. Instead, he silently rinsed his hair, turned off the shower, and climbed over the side of the tub. Grabbing two towels, he tossed one to Astrid.
"You're cheating, Hiccup," Astrid repeated, stepping out of the shower and rubbing herself dry.
As he ran a towel over his hair, Hiccup offered a lopsided grin. "You cold?" he asked, fixing his eyes on Astrid's breasts. "Because your nipples look a little chilly." He reached over to flick one of the hardened nubs.
"For the love of everything, Hiccup, can't you take anything seriously?" Astrid exclaimed.
"I'm taking our little affair seriously."
"No babe, you aren't. If you were taking it seriously, you'd be talking about it with me." Rolling her eyes, the blonde fastened the towel about her body.
"We'll talk later," Hiccup promised, pressing a sloppy kiss against Astrid's lips. "I've got some things I need to take care of before work."
...
Astrid stepped through the door, her head pounding with exhaustion. Between chaos at work and overthinking the Hiccup situation, her entire day had been a mess, and her heart sank with the realization that she was a whore. Well, not exactly, but she might as well have been. She told herself that morally sound women didn't go around sleeping with another woman's boyfriend. Common sense told her it was wrong, but when she was around Hiccup, she was convinced that nothing could be more right.
Suppressing frustrated tears. Astrid switched on a lamp. The light in the room revealed Hiccup sitting on his bed, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. "What are you--"
"It's for you." Hiccup handed the flowers to Astrid. "And so is this." He placed an envelope between two roses. "Just...just take some time to think it over. I'm going to spend the night at Snotlout's place." He stood up and, grabbing his coat, headed out the door.
The blonde anxiously perched herself on her mattress and, gently lying the flowers aside, opened the envelope and read:
Astrid,
I've been thinking about us. But I want you to know that me thinking about us isn't something new. I've been thinking about us since you were my date to our freshman homecoming dance. And I kept thinking about us when we kissed in sophomore year, "just for practice." And I still kept thinking about us when you went out with that guy (Dave, I think his name was) in junior year.
But senior year, when we started talking about college, jobs, and the future, is when I knew I couldn't live without you. Astrid, I tried to hard to convince myself I didn't have any feelings. And up until that night we first slept together, I'd kept trying to convince myself that I didn't have feelings. I thought it would be easy to date another woman and talk myself into falling in love with her. It turns out it's not, and I regret almost everything I've done.
I regret not asking you to be my girlfriend in high school. To tell you the truth, I was afraid of ruining our friendship, so I let fear hold me back. I regret dating other women. But you know what I don't regret? I don't regret this past week. Astrid, this past week has been amazing (and not just because of the sex). I love falling asleep next to you. I love waking up next to you. I love cooking breakfast in my underwear with you. Why? Because I love you, dammit. I love you inside and out, as cheesy as that sounds.
This morning, I told Heather I won't be seeing her anymore. I have a bad feeling you're gonna blame yourself for our break-up, but don't. Astrid, even if you don't feel the same way about me that I feel about you, I can't be in a relationship with another woman when I'm in love with you. I just can't. It's not fair to her, it's not fair to you, and it's not fair to me.
The way I see this is that we have three options. We can a) forget this ever happened and try to move forward as friends; b) keep things the way they are; or c) look at the bottom of the bouquet.
Love, Hiccup
Astrid's cheeks grew wet with tears as she reached into the bouquet and pulled out a small box. Upon opening it, she discovered a sapphire ring, along with a note that read:
This means whatever you want it to mean. --Hiccup
Wiping her eyes, Astrid set the ring to the side and hugged a pillow to her chest. She'd hoped Hiccup's note would've helped her figure out where they stood. But instead, it only made the situation more complex. He loved her; that was clear. Although she didn't know much more than that. Did he want her to be his friend with benefits? His girlfriend? His wife?
A fresh flow of tears streamed down Astrid's face, but she couldn't figure out whether they were tears of frustration or relief. On one hand, she loved Hiccup. She knew that much. She'd had a crush on him since they'd first met in seventh grade, and since then, he'd always been the one she trusted with everything -- the good, the bad, and the ugly. On the other hand, however, she was scared. After all, it was one thing to sleep with a friend, and another to turn a friendship into a relationship.
But the past week had felt like heaven. Losing her virginity to him had been amazing, and the only reason she felt guilty about it was because she'd helped him cheat on Heather. But at the same time, she felt satisfied that she'd been his first time, not her. She felt even more satisfied that she'd come to know how to best pleasure him, that she got the privilege of seeing his face twist when he climaxed, that she got to feel him go limp inside of her while he buried his face in her breasts, pressing messy kisses there as they enjoyed the inevitable post-orgasm bliss.
And yes, she found herself longing for more than just sex. She wanted to bring him to family dinners. She wanted to sit down to coffee with him each morning. She wanted to fall asleep next to him every night, even when they decided to be chaste, and wake up beside him every dawning day.
There was no denying it. She wanted to share her life with him. And by the sound of it, he wanted to share his life with her, too.
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A Real Boy - Chapter 14
Just as thing settled down in the magick front, Tim's 'plain' life started to bit back. The first order of the week was his father. Jack Drake had heard that Tim was in Metropolis during the supernatural and/or alien-based riots, and demanded that Tim should 'go back home' to Central City immediately.
Tim managed to evade the order - and avoided telling Dad that Central City was not his home - by sending an email from Bruce requesting his presence for a meeting for three days in a row; because 'Wayne Enterprises' Medical Division is wishing to form a Joint Venture with Drake Industries in order to facilitate the two businesses to generate larger revenue'.
"Blah, blah, blah." Tim grumbled as he hung up the phone with Dad.
"The email worked." Jason concluded.
"He was sold at the word 'revenue'. Thank goddesses for Bruce and Barbara's email manipulation skills." Tim told him. "So now, I'm good to go - or rather, to not go - until the weekends. I just..." he sighed. "Sometimes I wish I don't have to lie to dad and can just tell him what happened in my life, you know?" Jason scowled mockingly, and Tim chuckled. "Sorry, that was a hypothetical remark."
"At least you have a dad to lie to," Dick replied, appearing suddenly from the back of the servers.
Tim has decided that he should definitely utilize Jason's teleportation abilities and mostly reside at the Wayne Manor, and get to his own home by early morning. No matter how nosy they are, his neighbors, he reasoned, would not be suspicious; after all, he was a grad student with full-time job for his own company.
Dick was unmistakably delighted, as was Alfred. Bruce said that it was a "prudent decision, Tim," and was barely seen in the first few days Tim was there.
Barbara and Dick assured him that Bruce was as excited as they were of having Tim in the house. "He's just not used of having feels." Barbara deadpanned. "Just ask Dick, how many times in his life that Bruce had told him he loved him or proud of him or any other 'dad' stuff."
Tim smiled ruefully. "At least he hasn't told me he's disappointed in me."
The sudden awkward silence between Dick and Barbara - and Jason - was unmistakable. Fortunately, Jason was not one to let silence go on for too long. Neither was he one to hide his opinions. "Tim's dad is a royal ass and said he was disappointed that Tim wouldn't move to Central City." Jason quipped.
Tim huffed. "Thanks, Jay..."
"His stepmom was great, though. Obviously the logical brain in the household." Jason added.
Barbara smiled. "Yes, Dana Winters. She was one of my starter physiotherapist. She's good at her work, being a healer and all." she said. "What, you didn't know she's a healer fae?" she added at Tim's surprised glare. Tim then steered his glare to Jason.
"Uh... I thought you knew..." Jason replied sheepishly. "You always thought of her as a 'healer', I thought you meant that literally."
"Yeah, well, no. I didn't. She is a licensed physiotherapist. I just never... no wonder she was so tolerant of me..." Tim sighed. "Anyway! Who is this... Garfield Logan guy and why should I meet him?"
"He's a shapeshifter. Human shapeshifter," Dick clarified. "His transformation was due to a... well, misguided potion of some sort. He had contracted a deadly disease in rural Africa when he was a toddler, and his parents didn't think they could wait for a healer to arrive. They created a potion that would definitely cure him from the disease, but miss... either misspelled or mispronounced some incantation, and Gar... kinda turned green and was able to shapeshift to whatever creature he wants to be. He's 17, and... honestly, is still too young to be around us, you know?"
"You mean he crimps your style." Jason deadpanned.
"Naah, not at all. I'm just personally freaking out if I have to be responsible for a minor, that's all." Dick replied blithely.
"So he'll be the big-bro we don't need." Tim added.
"Technically, Jason is currently the big-bro you have right now, and he can't really be held accountable for anything..." Dick said.
"Technically, we don't need a big-bro baby sitter." Tim continued, nonplussed.
"Technically--" Dick stopped and heaved a sigh. "Okay, the thing is that Gar didn't feel like he belonged. He's much younger than all of us, and he thought he would rather be with those his own age. It was his idea to go and hang out with you guys, and we all thought it would be a good idea."
"Nice save." Jason quipped.
"Not a save..." Dick started again, but Tim cut him off.
"Whether it's because you don't want him, or he doesn't want to be with you guys. Whatever. I don't care. He can drop by this Friday and hang. If he can get along with everybody else, he can stick around. If he offends any of us, or act out - sorry, we don't have time to babysit, either." Tim decided.
"Okay," Dick relief seemed palpable, and Tim felt a little sorry for Garfield Logan. To be the one no one wanted to hang out with was not a strange feeling for him. He might have a lot of kids wanting to hang out with him through school; but they all wanted something from him - ranging from his brain to cheat from to job or business opportunities, due to the fact that he was managing Drake Industries.The gang was literally the first group of people who wanted nothing but to hang out with him, as a friend.
Sure, none of them have the funds Tim has; but it wasn't like they would simply leave the bills to Tim. He could still remember when Conner got his first stipend from helping out at the Kent's farm, and he bought everyone donuts. Or when Cassie got her first check from her published short fiction based on Greek mythology and bought them all dinner for the night, as well as a framed photo for Tim because she said he was the inspiration for the hero. Or when Bart tried to cook for them all and managed a very big pile of pancakes, because that was all that he could make, and finished half of it on his own.
The islet itself has a cabin - and said 'cabin' has twelve rooms. Once upon a time, Tim's mom had wondered aloud what it would be like to have and operate a Bed-and-Breakfast. When he bought the islet, Tim had decided to make a sort-of B&B, only with a lot more security installed - both magickal and technological - and not really open for public. From the outside, the islet looked as if it has a tiny little hut hidden in the middle of trees. From the land, it would be a minimalist flat building with a lot of rooms and an indoor Olympic-sized swimming pool in the middle, a large gym, an even larger games' room, and an industrial kitchen.
By that weekend, however, Tim discovered that Garfield Logan was not the only one he would be welcoming into the metaphorical clubhouse. He was about to introduce Garfield, who had arrived via the ocean - as a dolphin, no less - and saying that his family has an island a little farther North; when something crashed on the back of the clubhouse.
They scattered, with Bart ahead of the line and Tim was 'ported there by Jason in full protective mode to the point of, if Tim had allowed it, Jason would have probably ensconced him in a steel bubble or something along the line. Rachel and Cassie arrived a little later, followed by a cheetah-formed Garfield.
"It's... it's alive!" was Bart's first comment. Rachel stepped forward, ready to help. The human-formed something stirred, and its-- her hand glowed.
"Step back, Rach!" Cassie ordered and took the brunt of the sudden blast that fired from the injured woman's hand.
"Stop!" Tim commanded the injured woman. "you're hurt. We're not gonna harm you!"
Her eyes landed on Jason, still fully winged; and then Garfield who had just morphed back to human form, and then decided better and changed to a monkey. "Kory!" he squealed. "Kory it's me!"
#Tim Drake#Jason Todd#Dick Grayson#JayTim#Garfield Logan#Rachel Roth#Cassie Sandsmark#Bart Allen#surprise guest#No-capeAU#Magi!AU
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The Marvel Parody - Chapter 14
Pairing (in the futur) : Chris Evans x Plus Size!Reader
Warnings : Language ; spelling mistakes ; slight fat shaming ; Chris being a jerk ; Reader being a jerk ; angst?
Word Count : 3.095
Author’s Note : Italic = Reader’s, Chris or Seb’s thoughts
Sebastian’s POV
During the time the fight took place, I was at the other part of the set getting ready for my scenes with Mackie, Paul Bethany and Elizabeth. « I can’t believe today’s the last day », said Lizzie once they finished their shot. « Right? », replied Paul. In that moment my phone vibrated and read the text I got from Tom.
From Tom : Once you finished could you stop by Chris’s trailer, please? Something happened.
« The fuck », I mumbled. « Everything good? », asked Mackie once he saw his friend frown. I send a quick reply :
To Tom : What happened?
From Tom : Y/N got into a big fight with him.
« Shit », I whispered. « Alright, what’s going on? You’re worrying us », continued Mackie. Everyone gathered around me and I looked at them. « Y/N got into a fight with Chris. I gotta go. » Once I approached his trailer, I saw him walking by. « Hey Chris wait up. » But he just continued walking. ‘The hell’. I had to jog in order to catch him. « I heard you got into a fight with Y/N, what happened? » « Leave me alone. Why don’t you go check on her instead since you’re so intimate.» « Ok, what the fuck are you talking about? », I said annoyed at his antics. Chris opened his door and was about to close it but I stopped it. « I cannot help if you don’t tell me what’s going on. » I saw him shook his head and turned his back facing me « She’s going to you, telling how she feels, her deepest thoughts. Hitting on me, on Tom, on You. Trying to get everyone to like her, playing the victim card when in fact she’s just a manipulative bitch. »
My face turned red hearing him talk about her like that. I pushed him against the wall and said « Dude, you know how much I love you but right know you’re being a fucking asshole. She only told me those things I said during our movie night because I confronted her and she burst out in tears, otherwise she wouldn’t have told me. And then, hitting on me or Tom. Are you fucking blind? We’re her friends, we tease each other, like you tease and joke with Scarlet or Lizzie and finally, don’t ever call her a manipulative bitch ever again. You have no idea what’s going on with her because you’re too coward to have a real talk with her, so you just spend your days flirting with Cass (the designer) in order of what : make her jealous? burry your feelings for her with someone else? I think it’s time for you to man-up instead of making stupid and false assumptions. »
You let go of him. Shocked by your outburst, Chris sat down on the couch, burring his face with his hands. « Now for the last time, what the fuck happened? », I asked harshly. I saw him sigh and breathe before exclaiming « I kind of told her that she should be ashamed to flirt with everyone, especially you considering that you’re dating her best friend and then during the shoot, she slapped me. » I closed my eyes not believing what I was hearing. « You’re so fucking stupid man. I can’t believe you thought she could be someone like that and that I would agree and cheat on my girl », I replied hurt. « I was jealous. Seeing you so close with her, wishing it could be me. I’m so sorry Seb. I fucked up. », he replied. « Yeah, you did. Royally » I looked at him realizing that he just made a huge mistake. « I was so scarred to lose her if I ever told her that I love her, need her and I just lost her over jealousy. » I saw him struggling to not cry and sat next to him. I patted his shoulder. « Chris, you didn’t loose her. » « I did. You should have seen her face. » « She’s hurt, but you will never loose her. Trust me. She cares about you and a lot. » He finally faced me « What am I supposed to do? » « Well for starters you should apologize and have a REAL talk with her. But not know. I think if you show up to her again she might punch you this time », I pointed to his left cheek that still had her handprint on it. He chuckled « I kind of deserved that. » « Yes, you did. »
Lizzie saw Scarlet surrounded by the original Avengers and went to them. « Hey, everything ok? What happened? » Scarlet then explained (again) what happened and the two women agreed to go check on you. Meanwhile, you were packing your stuff because they were relocating you in a hotel for the wrap party the following evening. You heard knocks on your door but didn’t want to see anyone so you just ignored it. « Please Y/N open up? », you heard Scarlet’s familiar voice. Your plan to ignore everyone failed and you opened the door, revealing the two actresses that ended spending the rest of the day with you.
Next morning
The set was being cleared and the cast was being relocated to the hotel. You ended up being one of the lasts and were released about it. ‘At least, I don’t have to face anyone.’ You got out of the trailer to find Seb and Tom standing there. « What are you still doing here? I thought you were already gone by now », you commented. « Leave you here and not having the chance to piss you off one last time? No way », said the British. You gave them a fake smile because you were ashamed facing them. ‘Did I really gave the impression that I was hitting on them?’ Sensing what you were thinking, Seb interjected « Hey, don’t. It’s not true. Everybody knows it and we know it too », indicating between him and Tom. You chuckled dryly. « Yeah right », you said sarcastically. « Come on love, let me help you with these », commented Tom. « No, it’s ok. I’ve got it », and walked towards the cab that was waiting for you three. You didn’t mean to be so rude, you just couldn’t think straight with the whole situation.
20 minutes later, you arrived at the hotel and everyone headed towards their room. « See you later », said Seb. « Sure », you replied almost as a whisper. You still got a few hours before getting ready for the wrap party, so you ordered some food and were about to get comfortable in bed when someone knocked on the door. ‘What now?’ Behind the door stood Scarlet and Lizzie with four other people. They just entered and told the other people to settle down in the living room (yeah the room was almost as big as the appartement you shared with Sarah). « What’s happening? », you turned to the girls. « We’re here to prepare for the party and we brought 2 hairdressers and 2 make-up artists to pamper us », exclaimed Lizzie with a bright smile. « Preparing ourselves now? Isn’t it to early? », you asked confused. « Nope », smirked Scarlet. « And that gives us the opportunity to start a before with some champagne », she continued. « Deal », you said way to quickly. They eyed you curiously. « Yep, let’s get shit-faced tonight », you finished. « That’s the spirit », commented Lizzie. ‘If this was the last time you’ll be all together before the press tour at least let’s make it memorable.’
Meanwhile the girls were getting dolled up, you decided to take a bath and wash off your worries. Seeing that you weren’t returning back, Lizzie went to the bathroom. « Y/N? It’s your turn », she said sweetly. « I’ll be right out. » You got out, put on a robe and headed back. « Do you have an idea about how you want your hair and makeup dear », asked one of the hairdressers. « No, I haven’t thought about that. » « She’s putting on a black leather dress, so I think wavy hair and a smokey eye would be perfect », replied Scarlet. You eyed your friend who just smirked. « Great. Let’s get started », continued the hairdresser.
(I’m obsessed with this look)
Two hours later, we were all ready and as the girls predicated it was almost time to hit the party. You were happy with the end result. The crew did a really great job and you felt sexy. « Ladies, let’s go and show how the Marvel girls slay », exclaimed Lizzie. Once you exited the elevator you noticed familiar silhouettes and approaching them, you recognized the cast waiting for us in order to leave the hotel at the same time. Some of them whistled and hollered. You gave them a genuine smile. Smile that didn’t last to long once you saw Chris. He was shamelessly eying you from head to toe and the moment he looked at you in the eyes, you turned around, giving him the cold shoulder. « There’s 2 SUV’s. Let’s split up. Mark, Hemsworth, Tom, Jeremy and Y/N, you coming with me. Scarlet, Lizzie, Sebastian, Mackie and Chris, you take the second car », exclaimed RDJ. You were surprised at his splitting decision but were glad. ‘At least, I’m not in the same car as him’. Tom was about to sit next to you when RDJ cut him off « Nope kid, I’ll be the one having the privilege to sit right next to our beauty tonight. » Tom just shrugged and took another seat. You were beginning to slightly freak out. You had to admit that even if the actor was nice, you still felt intimidated by his presence. ‘I mean how can you not? It’s fucking Robert Downey JR.’ So you smiled politely and looked at the window.
« How are you feeling? », he asked. You turned to him « I’m good, thank you. How about you Papa Stark? » ‘Really? Papa Stark? You’re so dumb.’ The actor laughed and you apologized. « Don’t apologize. It’s cute and I do feel like I’m some father figure around set, which means that if you need any advice or a shoulder to cry on, I’m here. » You smiled at him and hugged him. You figured out that you caught him off guard because he didn’t react, but when you were about to pull off, he hugged you back. « Thank you. For everything », you whispered. ‘How could you not feel emotional when you were surrounded by these beautiful souls.’ You small talked until you arrived at the location.
Once you arrived you met up with the other cast members that were already there. You went and greeted the Pauls, Chadwick, Letitia, Josh and Brie. You were surprised to find some actors that weren’t part of this movie, so you went to them next. « Hey so good to see you again », you greeted Tom Hiddleston. « Hello darling, likewise. You look magnificent. » Your cheeks turned bright red and you giggled nervously. « Thank you. You look good too with your suit… I mean in any suit really, but yeah. » You hid your face in your hands and shook your head. You could hear his ‘eheheheh’ laugh. « Sorry, I’m terrible at this », you chuckled. « No worry love », he smirked. ‘Oh God, what is it with those people and pet names and their constantly smirk-state’.
You excused yourself and went to greet Pratt and Zoe. You were talking to Zoe who was teaching you some Spanish words when you noticed a buff figure approaching us. You would recognize that figure among thousands, so you excused yourself and headed to the bar. And.. you were right, there he was talking to Pratt in the same spot you stood a few seconds earlier. « You know, you can’t run from him forever », whispered Seb in your ear. Totally off guard, you let out a small scream and put your hand in front of your frantically beating heart. « For fuck’s sake, you scared me. » That douche just laughed. You slapped him on the shoulder « Jerk », which made him laugh louder. « He regrets it you know. » You just shook you head not in the mood to hear about Chris « Seb, I don’t wanna talk about what happened nor about him. It’s the last time we’re all together before the press starts in a couple of months and I want to enjoy it. So if you don’t mind I’m gonna drown this shots by myself or you can join me », you said pointing to the line of shots that you ordered. « Besides you shouldn’t worry about me or him. I’m good and it looks like he’s been taking care off », you said indicating to the blond man chatting with Cass. She was touching his forearms, lips inches from each other. The feeling was horrible, as if someone had stabbed you right in the heart, but you couldn’t think like that. He wasn’t yours and would never be, so you turned your emotions off. Seb switched from the sight behind him to your eyes, looking for some kind of emotion and couldn’t find anything, besides a blank expression. You downed three shots, leaving him two and left him at the bar. ‘Shit’, mumbled the Romanian.
Chris POV
I joined my other male cast members at the hall. « Hey, shouldn’t we get going? », I asked. « Yes, in a sec. The girls are almost here », replied Jeremy that got a text from Scarlet. ‘Shit. How am I supposed to face her?’ I was deep in thoughts when I heard my fellow friends whistle and turned to where they were all looking at. My breath got stuck in my throat, seeing her approaching. ‘Wow’ I couldn’t take my eyes of her. ‘That smile again. I missed her smile.’ She caught my eye and it was gone. She turned her back on me. ‘She still mad and I can’t blame her for it. I have to make it right.’ I tried to get myself in check but seeing her walk and swaying those hips in her tight black dress made my heart speed and a sudden shiver ran all over my body. ‘She drives me fucking crazy. I need to tell her.’ Once we arrived, everybody went their way and I just followed her and stopped once she reached Hiddleston. He must have told her something because the next thing I saw was her hiding her flushed face. My blood began to boil. ‘She’s mine.’ She then headed to Pratt, so I joined them but the moment she saw me coming she left. I sighed and greet Pratt and Zoe with a fake smile. My eyes caught Sebastian walking to the bar where she was. I was about to join them when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turing around I saw Cass (designer) smirking.
« Hey handsome. Why are you alone? » Her hands kept touching my forearms and it was starting to make me uncomfortable. ‘Sure I felt attracted to her since the filming of IW but that was before I saw Y/N. It was also true that I would flirt with her on set but I was trying to forget about Y/N. But I can’t do it anymore’, you tried to defend yourself. When I looked at Cass, I noticed how close she was and couldn’t stop thinking about the day me and Y/N were this close, when she was having a panic attack at the makeup trailer. Goosebumps formed on my arms. Cass noticed it and leaning forward, she said in a seductive voice « We should take this somewhere less crowded. » « I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m… I like someone else. » « Excuse me? You hit on me and now you just wanna dump me? » « I’m really sorry if I gave you a false impression, but I can’t keep going on with whatever this is. » « Is it because of Y/N? » I tensed up at her words. « Of course it is. I see how you look at her. Why would you wanna be with her when you could be with someone better, someone skinnier and prettier, like me. » My blood boiled. « Don’t you ever say that again », I spit sternly. « She could never make you feel good like I could. You could never be satisfied and overflowed with pleasure with her », she continued bitterly. « She already does and without touching me. Something you would never be able to », I responded with gritted teeth.
I left her and scanned the room for Y/N. I spotted Seb looking at me with a disappointed look and headed his way. « Where’s Y/N? I need to talk to her, it’s important. » « Is it? You sure, because you seemed occupied. » I shook my head and asked « She saw us, didn’t she? » « Yep » « Damn it. I swear that I was going to come to her and then Cass tried to get to me but I told her to fuck off. » « You guys are so fucking complicated. Your situation is driving everyone insane, you know that? », said Seb. I looked at him with my best puppy look and he sighed « Fine. She’s over there dancing with the girls. » I looked at the place he indicated and there she was, letting loose. She was laughing and moving like nobody was in the room. Also pretty much stumbling over her feet. « Is she drunk? », I asked. « Drunk? Haha. She’s completely wasted. She’s been calling RDJ ‘Papa Stark’ the whole night », chuckled Seb. I couldn’t hide my smile when I saw her approaching us. « Ohh, look who’s here? The one and only Captain America. Now I get why your costume looks always on point. It does help when you banging the designer, right? And then I’m supposed to be the one hitting on everyone? How funny. » she said laughing. « Y/N/N », said Seb. She just glared at us mischievously. ‘Alright, fair point. I guess I deserved that one’, you thought. « Y/N can we go somewhere calmer, I really need to talk to you », I told. « No can do ! I’m having so much fun and you will not ruin that, Evans. » « Please », I begged. She just laughed at my face. ‘Alright, Plan B.’ I looked at Seb and said « If someone’s searching for us, we’ll be in her hotel room » and I grabbed her wrist. « What the fuck? Let me go. » I managed to drag her out. « Stop fighting me », I declared. « Let me go, you’re hurting me » and I immediately left her wrist. « Enter the car », I said sternly and at my surprise she obeyed. I could sense her tense body next to mine and the way she did all she could to remain on her side and not touch me. ‘Please, I hope she forgives me.’
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*gifs and picture not mine, credit to owners. Pic dress : found on Ashley Graham’s Instagram page*
#marvel#mcu#chris evans#plus size reader#plus size#reader#chris evans x plus size reader#Sebastian Stan#anthony mackie#scarlet johannson#elisabeth olsen#robert downey jr#tom holland#paul bettany#jeremy renner#mark ruffalo#chris hemsworth#chris pratt#zoe sandala#tom hiddleston#fanfiction
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