#fur is everywhere in my house and it's been a month since i finished this thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jodilin65 · 23 years ago

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WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2001 Right now, one year ago, I woke up gagging on cigarette smoke with my heart racing with anxiety, so sure we’d lost the house.

But this year I’m waiting for my loving husband to return from dumping the pigs off at the pet store and picking up groceries.

And this year I have a better rat. One who’s so dog-like. He’s not only playful with me, but he follows me around the house and jumps up on the couch to sit next to me.

Something up there does not want me to stop breeding mice. It wants me to breed lots of them continuously. And because of this I now have a cage full of knock-ups. A few of those damn males got out and a couple ended up in with the ladies. I was within seconds of just throwing them all together, dumping the babies as they came along, but this time I have them in plastic cages only. Ain’t no way they’re getting out. Still, I’m going to be overrun with mice if I don’t dump some of the forthcoming babies. I’ll dump the boring ones. That’s what I’ve been doing as soon as their fur sprouts and I can tell what they’re going to look like. I don’t want to breed till next spring, because I don’t want to give Teddy Bear mice that are already 6 months to a year old.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 30, 2001 Well, this day one year ago was not a good day, to say the least. Remember, freeloaders? Yeah, I’m sure you do!

Ratsy’s been dead a year now, and yesterday, one year ago, would be the last time I’d have “blanket parties” with Houdini. But this year I have an even better rat!

So, what will I be doing this October 30th? I’ll be enjoying a leisurely day at home just like I should’ve one year ago, and in half a year I’ll see my Teddy Bear, the one blessing this curse has brought me. At least all this shit went down after I got Doe, Art, Tammy and Larry out of the picture. Imagine having to deal with them on top of all the other shit I was going through? Ugh!

I’m finishing up ripping CDs, then I’ll finish proofing the bear’s copy of the jailhouse journal, and then it’s on to the autobiography. I just haven’t decided yet how detailed I’m going to have it be. Probably not too detailed. The purpose, after all, is to condense the journals, so I don’t want it to be too big of a thing.

The baby pigs are going tomorrow, but I don’t know if they’re going to Casa Grande or Phoenix. I’m looking forward to their departure. It’ll be a bit less stinky in here (although they’ve been in Tom’s room these last few days) and that’ll be three fewer mouths to feed and one less cage to change. That is if I keep Teddy Bear with the mice. I haven’t decided yet.

Tomorrow I’m also going to do what the freeloaders kept me from doing last year. Now that Tom’s got the area around the house cleaned up (there had been all kinds of junk strewn everywhere) I’m going to do the little odds and ends. There’s a can, for example, that’s been embedded in the far side of the wash ever since we bought this land. Little things like that will be taken care of.

I don’t know what Tom’s obsession with trashing things, having tons of clutter, and being disorganized is, but he better not retrash this property!

He got a good shot of a scorpion yesterday. This one was greenish in color.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2001 Just 180 days away from my Teddy Bear! Or at least till I can send the letter. Even that’s an eternity. I should know. Yes, my feelings were teetering on the edge of love. It definitely wasn’t just lust and gratitude I was feeling!

Right after I suggested the possibility of it with Tom saying they wouldn’t, work called and left a message. The stupid, incompetent idiots were bugging him about something or another, but Tom ignored them. “Hey, I’m on vacation,” he said.

I’ve been “ripping” CDs, which means extracting the tracks I want from my CDs and making them wave files rather than MP3s. That way they’ll sound better. These are for condensing my CDs, though with the way they have MP3s nowadays, I should never live long enough to fill up the 200 CD changer I’m getting.

Tom’s Ida research turned up exactly what I assumed it would. She’s in on a probation violation. What I don’t get is why she lied. I mean, I can see her not wanting to discuss her charges, but why lie and say she’s never been in jail/prison before and that she had no probation when she got out? I don’t understand the big deal. Did she think I’d be like - oh, my God! Did she think I’d freak out with shock?

I asked Tom if he thought the freeloaders didn’t sue cuz they didn’t know they could, or if they thought for some reason that they’d lose. Tom said he thinks they thought they couldn’t get something from me since it was me they were after. But the house, land, and car aren’t in my name. Well, it’s a damn good thing they didn’t realize that going after him would be the same as going after me cuz if they’d have sued him, they’d have garnished his paycheck and we’d have no place to live, no way to eat, no way to survive. And I know they would’ve won. There’d never have been a question of that.

Congratulations, blacks! You made another die-hard racist! They’re so fucking sensitive to being hated, too (though what do they expect with the way they treat people?). Deanna was a prime example of that, what with the way she came to the door after I moved in with Ida, demanding to know if I had anything against her for being black.

So what if I did? Why does it matter so much? Why is being liked so damn important to blacks? Are they that insecure? Perhaps this is just me, but when someone doesn’t like me, I just ignore them (when they’ll allow me to). I don’t “get them” for it and I don’t go out of my way to convince them they shouldn’t hate me. You can make people hate you, but you can’t make people like/love you.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2001 Tom’s officially on vacation now.

Anyway, I’ve been gathering MP3s and Tom’s going to rip my CDs so I can condense them. I’ll burn them in alphabetical order by artist, rather than by title.

Frosty the mouse escaped again today, but Tom and I caught him.

All 3 baby pigs are going to be going next Wednesday. One pig’s enough. Tom said he’s considering taking them to this little pet store in Casa Grande. He thinks we may have a better shot at doing business with them being a small place, rather than some big chain.

I’m going to have Teddy Bear in a big tank, the males or females in the other big tank, and males or females in the small tank with the plastic cage on top. I’ll put any bullies in with Teddy Bear till they chill out. I’ve found that sometimes all I need to do is separate mice that fight for a short while and that’ll calm them down.

I finally heard from Mary, who’s by herself in our old room. Nancy left for prison. I was glad to read that it’ll only be for 3 years, which means she’ll probably only do about 1, but was utterly stunned to hear she’ll have a lifetime of probation. Yeah, that’s Arizona for you. Imagine having to report to your PO twice a month forever. Ugh! I’d abscond for damn sure!

She’s been under a lot of stress. She answered some of my questions, but not all of them. She said she really appreciated the thing I sent her from Helen on letting good things happen. She says if I have any more self-help tips on positive thinking, etc., send them her way.

I totally sympathized with her when she told me she was burning up there. The AC’s been broken and she’s sweating her ass off. The cell she’s in is the warmest one there too, but at least it’ll be cooling down soon. When I got up at 5:30 this afternoon, it was 84° in the house. Tom’s got to start remembering to turn the AC on once it hits 82°. I was like - can’t you feel the heat?

Anyway, she said she put in a grievance for high-powered fans before someone has a heat stroke, but of course, there’s no way she’ll get that.

Then, sounding like someone with quite a crush on me, all the while saying she feels like we’re “sisters,” she went on and on to praise me and say that after being quiet for a while and just putting up with it, she stuck up for me when people would talk shit about me, telling them I had a heart, was beautiful, talented, etc. (I assume she was referring to when Myra, Mindy and Peaches were giving me shit through the vents). Not that I could care less about what other inmates think of me, but that’s very sweet of her. Her crush is kind of cute and funny, too. It’s not like she’s some mean, ugly, pushy butch. I just don’t know how I could’ve been so blind to it for so long! Being blind to Palma and Teddy Bear for so long was one thing, but I saw Mary every day for 4 months, and she was right under my nose for 9 days!

As for Teddy Bear, she wracked her brains and could swear there was no ring, and she says the bear’s hardly worked there since I left! Could it be because it saddens her to work there? Hmm… not even Palma’s been there in the half a year I’ve been out, or else she’d have told me about it. Even that one’s hard to believe, and she and I certainly weren’t as tight as the bear and I were. Again, I have a feeling I’m connected somehow to Palma’s long absence.

She said she was shocked when she learned it was the bear I love, but after she stopped and studied her, she said she could understand, saying she’s sweet and innocent, yet very strong and intelligent. She said she couldn’t tell me if her weight’s changed or how long her hair is because it’s been that long.

Her own hair, though, is below the middle of her back. Finally. Her hair grows so slowly. She’s also gained weight and is 127 pounds. I’m sure she looks better now than she did when I last saw her. She was too thin when I left. She’s not even 10 pounds heavier than me. But 127 is suitable for her height of about 5’ 3” whereas 120 on a 5-footer is too much. When pulled straight, my hair’s a couple of inches above the crack of my ass.

She told me her 7-year-old son sees her on weekends.

She never did tell me if she slipped Ida my note, so I’ll have to ask her about that.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2001 We finally got the satellite hooked up. In fact, I’m listening to a few of my recent downloads to make sure they don’t skip and are complete. I already burned 2 CDs. I’ve got about 60 songs so far. Some songs I just can’t find and a lot of the time the sites are busy. That’s because most people can’t send more than one thing at a time.

It’s so awesome having the record store always at your fingertips!

Well, if we make it to November without heat, and it looks like we will, this will be the first time in my life I ever went that long without heat. It’s mainly because this house is so well-insulated. We’d need heat at night in the Phoenix house. At least I would.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2001 We finally trapped and freed mouse number 4. For a few days, it kept escaping the trap before its door could close all the way.

I just brought Little Buddy home. Unlike my other rats, he doesn’t go home when he’s done exploring, cuz he’s never done.

We still haven’t gotten this software in the mail we’re supposed to get for the satellite. I knew there was a catch as to why it was so cheap. Once again, paying money for something is never enough in God’s eyes. There always has to be some glitch attached to us getting anything, and the less money we do pay, the more we’re compensated. Look what I had to go through on account of those freeloaders to get my Teddy Bear! According to Tom, it’s supposed to be up and running tomorrow just like it was supposed to be last Monday, but I don’t see it.

I’m really looking forward to doing an autobiography. I’m going to need to do something anyway, or else I’ll be bored shitless. Sometimes it’s better to write about an experience after it happens rather than during it because then you have all the facts. It’s like how I thought I was in for the journals during the first part of my sentence. I didn’t find out till the end that it was for this letter. After an event, you have time to sit back and reflect on it, too.

I’m officially done with Paula. I sent her her last letter. I’m not going to write to someone I never hear from, and truthfully, Paula doesn’t suit me nowadays as a friend any more than Andy does. I’ve outgrown her.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2001 Once I couldn’t get my animals to breed and now I can’t get them to stop! The Gray Lady’s pregnant yet again! This is the 5th time. I totally give up. I mean, you just can’t tell males from females till it’s too late. I’m probably going to fuck up sexing the GPs, too. GPs are very hard to sex because their balls rarely show. I think it’d be easier to bring the babies to the pet store. Especially what with the way they stink. Mice and rats stink up the room they’re in, but GPs stink up the whole house.

I didn’t want to lead Tom on or leave him hanging as far as where I stand on the screwing issue goes. I felt it best to be upfront with him, so I let him know - hey, I don’t want to screw. Period. Maybe someday I’ll feel differently, but right now, there’s no sense in not acknowledging how I feel. For some reason, though, he still can’t admit that he feels the same way. When I told him last week that the KY had expired and that I’d go along with him if he decided to pick some up, and he said, “I’ll definitely pick some up,” I knew he was full of shit. No, you won’t, I thought to myself. I just knew he wouldn’t and I still can’t figure out why it’s so hard for him to admit that he too, has no desire to screw. Neither of us would’ve put it off for this long if we were interested. For me, it wasn’t just that I got bored with it, but it became more of a hassle for me, more of a chore. I don’t miss that irritation I’d get, either. But why is it that I can admit to it and he can’t? We’re on the same wavelength here, so, as Helen said, why change what works? Again, it’s not because he’s ugly or bad in any way. I just don’t feel like doing it. That’s all. I don’t want any problems, either.

I threw in 3 funny pieces of BS in Teddy Bear’s copy just to surprise her and to see how closely she reads the story. I think she’ll read it, though.

Anyway, the first throw-in says: Johnson lost her mind one night in the dorms, according to Monday. She found some coke that somebody smuggled in and she said that instead of writing her up for it, she’d make her shine her shoes and she’d keep the coke for herself. So then Johnson went into the corner of the dorm and snorted up a line or two.

The second one says: In other Johnson news, she cracked me up the other night when she worked here. I guess she got really pissed off at Palma and Pancake Face Smith because she lifted them each up off the ground by their ponytails, shook them wildly while she screamed at them, then dropped them to the ground. It was great. They really hit the floor, alright! Then Johnson pled self-defense when the sergeant came, Arajo dragged Palma and Pancake Face Smith out by their necks, and all returned to normal.

The third one says: She said she also lived in Mexico for a year where she had orgies with dozens of women every Friday night.

Tom’s planting radishes, lettuce and wildflowers now that the p-dogs are gone. The rabbits can’t jump over the chicken wire fence.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2001 I just wrote Mary a letter, enclosing pictures and an inspirational thing Helen copied for me about letting good things happen, etc.

Meanwhile, there’s a tractor in back and from the looks of it, I’d say it’s definitely prepping for the last house to come in. It makes no sense for this to be related to the septic or APS. Besides, APS hasn’t even strung wire to the pole they put up. They’re probably waiting till the other house gets set up.

I don’t like this. I just don’t like this. Where there are freeloaders there’s always someone home. Even if one of them is out working, someone’s got to stay home with the dozens of kids they have. I totally don’t like this. There’s going to be trash everywhere and it’s going to be so noisy, but like I said, I knew it was inevitable. I knew that eventually, the peace and quiet would be gone from here. The only difference this time around is that it’s not coming from 3 feet away. But it’ll still be bad enough, as loud as today’s stereos are, both household and car-wise. You can’t tell me that at least one of those households isn’t going to be a regular enough source of noise. I’m not talking about dogs or people; I’m talking about music. I am not looking forward to hearing the thump-thump-thump of the bass every day, or even once or twice a week. But noise goes where I go, and God would never have it any different. There’s no place on land we could go where he’d let me escape freeloaders and their music. But as I learned the hard way, all I can do is live with whatever they give us.

This may be a bit manipulative, but I had an idea. I’ll tell Teddy Bear in my letter to her that I’m not sure what she has for cages, but I’ll just give her one of mine because I want to buy this new cage by Crittertrail that she ought to check out, too. Maybe then she’ll buy it for me. That’d be a good trade-off.

When I told Helen I couldn’t get that woman off my mind, she said it’s basically cuz of the unknown, whereas if she were right in front of me, that’d be different. She thinks what I think, though; that we will have some kind of a relationship.

Helen also believes she won’t send a Christmas card, let alone call me before I contact her next year, because she too, got the impression she was very dedicated to her job (my vibe on her calling at the end of the year completely faded). However, this does not mean she doesn’t miss me too, or think of me a lot, she said.

I hope she’s right about that one. I often wondered that…does she think of me and miss me, too?

Anyway, after discussing with Helen things we’re doing around the house, she said she’d fax Scot a note letting him know she’s done with me, gave me a hug, and said our goodbyes.

One less thing we have to do/pay for on account of the black bitch! Yes, I am slowly but surely wriggling out of their grasp! At least, I sure hope I am!!!

Then God can sic the freeloaders in back on us and find some other source to rob us of our money just as we’re finally getting financial stability once again.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2001 Today Tom wiped out my whole computer and reloaded all the programs I use. It’s supposed to be a good thing to do every year or two. I had to go in and reset my colors and stuff like that. I’m trying out a new wallpaper program too, cuz the old one caused problems.

APS was in back again. Today they put the pole up. That’s quite a little city we’ve got growing back there. I expect the freeloading Mexicans will move in around the 1st. At least by next summer, we won’t be able to see them. Just hear their shit.

The trap was triggered but there was no mouse in it, so we reset it. Sometimes they manage to escape before the door can close.

I’ll be leaving in a couple of hours for my last visit with Helen.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2001 And now Tom’s been here 2 years and I’ve been here 1½ years. The house has another couple of weeks to go before it’s been here 2 years, though.

We got another mouse in the house. I saw it run from the living room and into the bedroom yesterday. I assumed it was in my closet, so I set up the trap in there. However, when I got up this morning, it wasn’t triggered. I’m wondering if perhaps the mouse went back down into the vents and left altogether. I’ve got the trap set up down in the vent, just in case. If I don’t catch anything there, I’ll set it up in the kitchen.

APS was at the rental yesterday. Boy, they really got this place set up fast! It makes me think George already has someone in mind to rent the damn thing, but it won’t be my Teddy Bear, so it doesn’t matter. It’ll be freeloaders cuz I always have to be the one stuck with them.

I finished proofreading my jailhouse journal and am now proofreading Teddy Bear’s copy. Some would say that’s a bit premature, but I know she’s in my future. I just know it. So I know I’m not wasting my time. Also, without any work to do for Mary, my only other project at this point is my “condensed” autobiography, and I like to have more than one project to do at a time. That way, if I get bored with one, I can do the other.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2001 I don’t know if I remembered to write about this, but both the new black female and male mouse we got a couple of weeks ago died. We assumed the lady was killed by the other ladies with the way they were fighting, but the guy died for no apparent reason, telling me they both may’ve been sick. I can’t know for sure at this point.

Next week will be my final letter to Paula until I hear from her again, and even if I do, I’m not going to write her every week or two anymore. She’s just not worth all the postage, and besides, how often do I hear from her?

At the end of Mary’s letter, in a font that looks like handwriting, I wrote: Ida, your little bulldog knows you’re back. Shame on you. I know you’ve been in and out of jail and prison for over a decade for burglary and theft and am glad we never got together. Who knows what you may’ve stolen from us?

Then I asked Mary to slip it to Ida when she wasn’t looking, without letting her know that she and I are in touch.

I still can’t believe Scot never came to the house last week. I’d think he’d definitely show up this week for sure.

Although I see Scot as a bit of a pest, of course, I don’t see him as my “boss” or an authority figure of any kind. He’s a public servant and my $40 a month goes to his salary, so as far as I’m concerned, he works for me.

Tom was telling me that it’s going to be great if we can get to the 30th of this month with no problem, cuz the freeloaders have one year in which to try to sue me. At first I thought it utterly amazing that these sick vindictive assholes haven’t tried already after how much they’ve used and abused the law against me as it is, but then I remembered that it isn’t Tom they were ever after. It was me. And they know I don’t have any paychecks to be garnished.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2001 Today’s Mary’s 24th birthday. I hope she got the card that I made up for her.

Now for a neighborhood update. I was lying awake in bed at 6:30 this morning when all of a sudden, I heard the rhythmic thump of music. I said to myself - music at 6:30 in the morning in Maricopa? Nah, we’re still a few years away from that. But when I got up and turned off the fan, there was no doubt about what I was hearing. It was the people coming to work on the rental’s septic. Why they came that early beats me, but fortunately, they were only there for 15 minutes.

That is so fucking rude! And they so obviously wanted to be heard, to get attention and wake people up. Nonetheless, nobody in the two occupied rentals would dare go out and complain cuz you just don’t do that in Arizona where this is considered to be normal, acceptable behavior. To 90% of the people out here, it’s not rude and inconsiderate. It’s just part of everyday life. Simply a way of living.

This Teddy Bear thing is so hard to live with at times that a part of me wishes we never met or that I never fell for her like I did. But we did meet, and I did fall for her. It’s a wonderful feeling; I just miss her so much it hurts! And I’m so horny all the time for her! I have to relieve myself just about every day. Just the thought of her gets my juices flowing. I still can’t believe that after 35 years I finally met someone that turns me on and that I like as a person and it’s mutual. It’s all mutual!

It’s gonna really hurt if she doesn’t come through and I end up never seeing her again, but I know that in about 2 years, whether or not I see her, the flame will begin to flicker away. That’s how it always works for me.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2001 Yesterday, we were out for 8 hours. It was a very productive and interesting day.

We left at 5 AM. It was dark and very chilly out. I wore sleeves, though not long ones, and even took a light jacket with me. Our first stop was at Circle K for a few things - soda, coffee, and hard candy. When we got to Tempe, we stopped at a fast-food place.

Then I got to see where he works. It wasn’t quite as I pictured it to be. I thought it’d be a huge building, but it wasn’t. He showed me his cubicle where he works, the sorter room, and around that general area.

Sorry Tom, but your job isn’t nearly as impressive and exciting as Teddy Bear’s is, and also, she’s got the better uniform - ha, ha, ha!

Seriously, it was boring as all hell. We spent most of the time waiting for a file to come across the computer from out of state so he could operate the sorter.

We left Bank of America at 10:30, then hit some stores. While we were still at his work, we decided to get the direct PC satellite that day and ended up getting a smoking deal on one. I’m sure that means compensation of a bad kind is to come. Like, maybe there’ll be major trouble installing it, or worse, broken parts. Right now, though, we’re hoping it’ll be up and running by Monday.

We also stopped at a pet store to pick up sawdust, and the grocery store, too.

I’m decrypting all my files as I type this to change my key again. I’m sick of gutan tag, cuz I keep forgetting if the gutan is spelled with an a or an e, so I’m going to be sexi dawn.

Last Friday I rearranged my bedroom and office closets and saw Apple Cheeks.

The weather’s cooled down a lot, though it’s still hot in the daytime. We only need the AC for a few hours in the late afternoons, and I open windows in the mornings and early afternoons, as long as it’s not windy.

The prairie dogs are gone till March.

In good news, I finally heard from Mary, but it was a brief, nondescript letter that wasn’t very good. The poor girl’s been having bad panic attacks. She’s in our old cell now (203). All she said was that her cellies brought a lot of anxiety upon her. She didn’t go into any detail.

Nor did she even tell me what she thought about me and Teddy Bear. All she said was that she dyed her hair dark red and grew her bangs out, which I was surprised to hear. I didn’t think Teddy Bear was the type to dye her hair. She never struck me as one to be all that much into looks. At least she didn’t dye it brown, or worse, blond. I wish I could see how she looks! I miss her! I want to see her, talk to her, continue getting to know her, make love with her, etc.! It drives me crazy at times. I don’t know what it is with this woman. What did you do to me, Teddy Bear?! When are you ever going to wear off of me?

I figure the flame won’t start dying for another year or two, regardless of what we feel for each other or whether or not we’re even in each other’s lives.

God, I wish I could know for sure just what the future holds for us! I’m just so curious and I can’t wait to find out. I can’t wait to resume what we started.

She says Nancy is her celly but was to be sentenced, so by now she’d be a DOC hold. It’ll be interesting to find out what her sentence is to be for sure.

She also said that Ida’s back, which doesn’t surprise me the least bit. After all, she’s been a regular little criminal for over a decade. I’m just so glad I didn’t get together with the klepto! There’s no saying what she might’ve stolen from us.

I’ll bet she’s back on a violation. She had told me she didn’t have any probation once she got out, but now that I know what a pathological liar she is, I’m sure she did have probation. But how can the woman be dumb enough to keep on doing the same old shit for so long? Doesn’t she know she can’t get away with it? Maybe she likes getting caught, who knows?

Whatever it is she did, I’m sure it didn’t make the papers or the news. Only a few of us so-called criminals are lucky enough to make those.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2001 I’ve had the windows open all morning. It’s nice and cool out there. By 3:00 in the afternoon, though, it’ll be pretty warm.

Scot hasn’t shown up this week and I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t today. Who knows, though? Maybe he won’t come till next week.

For the millionth, trillionth time - I just wish these fucking freeloaders would get out of my life!!! Oh, the stress they put me through as far as my schedule goes! I’m so fucking sick of having to base my schedule on them. I still don’t understand how they could legally be allowed to take over my life the way they have. I haven’t gone more than one week straight without having appointments cuz of them. It still blows my mind how they can shit on me like they did from a few feet apart, only to end up shitting on me a million times more with many miles put between us. It just makes no sense. We moved to get away from them and others just like them, so how can it be that they’ve seized control of my life to the degree that they have? They didn’t cost me half a year of my life from 3 feet away. They didn’t cost me $40 from 3 feet away. They didn’t cause me so many appointments from 3 feet away. I just don’t get it. It’s like God used them as the final straw to punish me for everything I ever did wrong in my whole, entire life and then some.

Helen said that they don’t give a moment’s thought to me, but I don’t know. They gave an awful lot of thought into fucking me over. Every day they thought of me when they’d slam their doors, blast their music, put their dog outside our windows, etc. They do more than think of me, they’re obsessed with me. You can’t tell me there’s a day that goes by that they don’t gloat over getting me thrown in jail.

Anyway, tomorrow I have to report to Scot. Meanwhile, I can have this day to myself. All I have to do for the freeloaders today is try to stay up as late as I can and sleep as late as I can when I do fall asleep.

Tom said that it crossed his mind that Teddy Bear may send a Christmas card, even if she is still dedicated to waiting a year before seeing me. I wondered this myself; if she would. That’d be so nice! I’d love a card from her and I’d really love a picture, too!

MONDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2001 Two days in a row, thunderstorms woke me. There’s been a group of storms that came through to cool things down. It’s officially winter. I can feel it. It’s the coldest it’s been in here in months. The AC hasn’t needed to run all night and I had to put on a nightie with sleeves, even if the sleeves aren’t much. Another couple of degrees lower and I’d need socks.

Tom’s off till Tuesday cuz of Columbus Day. As much as the freeloaders are still very much a part of our lives, it’s so nice not to have the holiday stress that they’d bring!

Yesterday morning proved just how tightly sealed up this house is compared to our old one. I was out at the break of dawn while he was burying ashes, and you could hear a whole symphony of animals in all directions. There were dogs, chickens, roosters, goats, cows, etc.

Yesterday was also a pretty bad bear day. I really had the “Teddy Bear blues.” I feel like she’ll never wear off of me, but I know that in a year or two she will. That’s how it always works with those I lust for. I don’t just want to get it on with her, but I miss her, too! I just can’t wait till we meet and I learn more about her! 203 days.

I made up a birthday card for Mary. She’ll be 24 on the 15th.

We’re in the midst of bombing Afghanistan now cuz that’s where the fucking Arabs are that are responsible for the terrorist acts of last month. The ones that are still alive, that is. Tom thinks it’s a waste of our money to fly planes into this country that has no defense when all we’d have to do is just drive in. Yeah, but bombs work better when they’re launched from the sky. You can get more people that way. Besides, how are they going to get there from here?

I wish someone would kill all Arab children. Then they couldn’t breed any more of their sick kind and they’d all die off and eventually and become extinct.

I was thinking about it, and God just won’t let us keep our money! Why? Why is he so obsessed with other people taking our money? Why is it so important to him that we never get ahead and that we give our money to other people? Ever since I’ve known him, we’ve been paying others a damn good chunk of our money. First his mom ate us out of thousands, then contractors, then freeloaders.

Who’s next?

Later…

I’ve got about 70 pages left of the Estrella saga to proofread (the last two months). You know, reading this shit is a grim reminder that something up there hates me badly. Real bad. And it’s only a matter of time before it pounces on me again.

Over the next few days, Scot will be waking me up. I’ll just ignore him and hope I’m not too pissed at him, the freeloaders, the pigs, and everyone else involved in this shit, to go back to sleep and continue flipping my schedule. Meanwhile, I’ll see him when I see him. He’s dealing with me on my terms from now on, not his.

I had something irritating my gums where one of the wires was cemented on. The pain started around the time they were mounted, so I was wondering if the cement was rubbing against the gum line. Tom took a look at it since there was no way I could see it, and said it looked like food was lodged just under the gum and he managed to get it out with a plaque stick. Hopefully, this won’t happen again.

He double-checked the babies I sexed, and so far, it seems I did a good job. For now, I have all the ladies together, all the men, and together is the new black male with a baby female with dark gray and white markings.

I have a bad vibe for November 3rd, which is a Saturday. For some reason, knowing it’s on a weekend and not a weekday makes me feel a little better. I also see something big going down around late ‘02 - early ‘03. I just hope it isn’t that bad, whatever it is!

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2001 And now I have a total of 45 mice. That’s because I threw out one male bully and because the new lady mouse was killed. I don’t know why mice are so vicious towards each other! Tom said it was disgusting because they were eating her. Yeah, mice eat their dead.

Little Buddy was so funny last night. We had gotten blizzards which I normally don’t eat all at once. I usually put the rest in the fridge for later. I had some while Little Buddy was out and about. He was licking the spoon and then climbing all over me, begging for more. As Tom said, this rat likes people more than any other rat we’ve had.

That covers the mice and rats. In GP news - one of the babies is so funny when I vacuum. It hates the vacuum and it screams when the thing’s running.

I put a small Band-Aid on Bailey’s knee. It looks cute. Especially on a doll so realistic-looking.

We had a transitional storm earlier. The kind you have during the day that signals the end of summer. This will get rid of the triple-digit temps and lower our electric bill. Still a couple of weeks away from being able to get the satellite. Can’t wait! I’m going to have so much fun hunting down songs and burning CDs.

Anyway, what shocked even me was how my vibes were right on as far as when the power would come back on. I only wish Tom had been awake when it did come back on! We were talking about how, for example, although I have a great accuracy rate with when we’ll win/lose on bingo tickets, being psychic isn’t a precise thing.

This time it was, though. At 5:30 I told Tom I strongly vibed the power would be on at 7:45. Well, I was right on right down to the exact minute.

According to our online research, we’re pretty sure that the reason I haven’t heard from Mary lately is that she’s been tied up in court, but of course, this case here has nothing to do with Gretchen. The Gretchen case is in Florida. It’s the James case that’s in Arizona.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2001 Saw Helen for the freeloaders yesterday, saw Scot for the freeloaders today. I was in and out. Tom still thinks I won’t always have to report twice a month, but I think I will. This is Arizona. They’ll play it right up till the end.

“I’ll try to see you at the house,” he said, which really means, “I will see you at the house.” I’m going to flip my schedule even though I know he’ll interrupt it. Hopefully, he won’t knock too long so I can fall back asleep. Like I said, the freeloaders wake me up more here than when I lived with them!

We stopped at Dairy Queen, but again, I’m getting sick of deaf and dumb freeloaders who are so fucking incompetent.

We drove by the rentals yesterday and yes; they are digging for septic. We can’t tell what’s living in the middle rental, but the one farthest from us is filled with freeloaders for sure. Just looking at the two trashy cars and the way the whole place looked told me that. It’s too bad George isn’t prejudiced. I’m only amazed I haven’t heard from them regularly but give it time. There’ll be trouble from back there. The more people we get back there, the more trouble there’ll be, and of course, if one of the renters is noisy, other renters won’t complain. Not that it’d do them any good anyway, but remember, noise is normal and accepted out here. So if one renter decided to hammer on a drum set right by an open window, or pluck an electric guitar or a base, it’d be perfectly OK by the others. It’s just a way of life in the southwest.

It dawned on me yesterday that that was the day I quit smoking 4 years ago. It’s hardly believable!

Got an ad in the mail from the doll store I got Jade at announcing a 70% off everything sale. It fucking figures they gotta have this kind of awesome sale when we can’t afford shit! I can’t even get stands or a dress for Jade. Thanks, Steven. Thanks, Dan. Thanks, freeloaders. Thanks, God.

Did a mouse count last night, after deciding to name the new black male Steve and the new black female Temple. If I counted right and if I sexed them right, I have 7 baby females, 10 adult females, 9 baby males, 7 adult males, and 14 newborns. A total of 47 mice.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2001 After seeing Helen, we went to the pet store for bedding, and ended up getting two more mice! They had no jumbo rats. Here I have 60-some-odd mice and yet I got two more. That’s because they were black with white bellies, so maybe now I can make Oreo cookies. It’ll also add new genes to the gene pool. So far everyone’s related to The Gray Lady, and the more you inbreed, the more you get problems like tumors, sterility and whatnot. I got one female and one male. I assume the female’s pregnant. Even so, I put the male in with the males and the female in with the female. The ladies ganged up on her at first, but the boys seem to be OK with their new roommate.

After the female has babies, if she does, I’m going to put the male in with a white lady, one with markings, and the darkest lady I’ve got (probably this new one).

We looked at cages too, for both rats and GPs, but aren’t going to make any set decisions on what we’re going to get till we can tell the sexes of the GPs. I’m sure I’ll get something for the rats, and that some pigs will get the cage the rats are using now. If I have 3 girls and 1 boy, for example, I’ll probably put the ladies in the old rat cage and leave the guy where they all are right now in the cage we made for them with a Tupperware base and wire. If there are 2 of each, 2 can go in the rat cage and 2 can go in a new cage. If they’re all girls, they can all go in the rat cage.

Helen was able to schedule me for two weeks from now for our final meeting.

She stressed to me the importance of “living life” and not worrying about the past and the future and thinking “If only I had done this” or “If only I had done that.” She certainly has a point. Especially since none of what happened can be changed, but sometimes it’s easier said than done.

I told her I got all psyched up thinking I had found Rosa, then realized I probably didn’t.

I told her Tom went down on me, and it was so funny when she asked me what my favorite thing to do with Tom was. I thought she meant in bed, and so I told her I love to be gone down on. She meant in general, though. After thinking about it I realized that I don’t really have a specific thing. Just being with him, I guess.

As usual, I stopped off for a cappuccino and Jolly Ranchers and gave her the lemons. She gave me a couple of pieces of toffee from Montana.

She was telling me she has a client she’s seen for 3 years, whose perpetrators still haven’t had their trial since it just keeps getting postponed. Yeah, that’s our wonderful justice system for you. Anything to keep the serious criminals from getting what they deserve, and when they finally get what’s coming to them, if they get what’s coming to them, it’ll only be for a short time.

Anyway, they didn’t rape her, fortunately, but they robbed her in her car at gunpoint.

The point Helen went to make was that when the lady read the police report recently, she was shocked at how much she’d forgotten.

I wonder how much I’ve forgotten about my childhood. Not enough, unfortunately. I’ve always felt that I remember too much, in a sense, and find myself wishing I could forget a lot of the traumatic events in my childhood like so many people seem to be able to do. Then again, if I had forgotten anything, I wouldn’t know it, would I?

I’ve been having a lot of computer problems due to the burner Tom tried to install. It was causing me to crash all the time. Yeah, I knew my having my own burner was too good to be true. At least for now it is.

I miss you, Teddy Bear! But now you’re just 207 days away! Well, 207 till I can send the letter.

Anyway, our first priority is the satellite (I can’t wait!), then the CD changer, then the new cages, etc.

The assholes at the PO fucked up on the payment again and locked Tom out of the box just like they did last March, but he says there probably is a letter in there. I hope so. I mean, even though I have enough of my own work to do, it’s about time I heard from Mary. Not just to continue on with her story, but because I’m still dying to hear what she thinks about the bear and me.

As far as my projects (my book, my bio, scanning, editing TB’s copy of the jailhouse journal, and arranging closets) I decided it’d be best to finish the Estrella saga before I start my bio, meanwhile, I can do scanning and closet arranging anytime. As for TB’s copy, I’ll probably wait till I see her before I begin that. I’m 99.9% sure I’ll see her again, not 100%, so I’ll wait and make sure I do see her again before I go through all that work. Nothing’s guaranteed in life no matter how sure we feel about some things.

That brings me to another thing I realized the other day. Actually, I think I’ve realized this possibility for a while now. Although I can’t see it, nothing is guaranteed, and we can’t be too sure about anything.

Well, almost anything, anyway.

I swore I’d never marry a guy. I was 100% sure of that in my mind till I met Tom, so maybe, just maybe, as much as I just can’t sense or picture it, I could end up with Teddy Bear. What if I did leave him for her? That’d be taking a hell of a risk, though. With Tom, I’m secure. I had my SSI and SS checks and dancing to fall back on till I gained security with Tom, but now I don’t have those checks and I’m too fat to dance. I’d have to really love and feel comfortable with her to give up Tom and hurt him like that, not to mention leave this big beautiful house in Maricopa, for a no doubt not as nice house in the city. Or maybe even an apartment. I think she’s in a house, but I can’t know that for sure. So, I guess what I’m saying is that I can say never and that anything’s possible, despite how impossible it seems at the moment.

This is a long entry from what I usually put in these days, but I’m going to sign off for now, go make some popcorn, read, rock out, then crash in a few hours. I don’t know if I’m going to flip my schedule between now and next Friday. One thing’s for sure - Apple Cheeks will be bugging me here next week.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2001 Tomorrow I see Helen, then the next day I see Scot. The question is when’s he going to come here and fuck up my schedule? This week or next? And how many weeks am I going to have to wait for my final appointment with Helen? I’m going to tell her I want to wrap this up and get it over with as soon as possible. Then that’ll be one less source of appointments and one more freeloader chapter closed, so to speak. Hopefully, she won’t be taking off to Texas or North Dakota for a month after I see her tomorrow.

Been out just over 5 months now yet I still look like shit. I’m still fat, I’m still flabby, but the good news is that I think I’m getting closer to starving. I just needed to get disgusted enough with myself to muster up enough willpower. I think on Monday I’ll go on a popcorn diet. There’s no way I’m passing up getting a cappuccino tomorrow and a mud pie on Friday, though. I’m actually looking a little forward to tomorrow’s appointment and getting out. I don’t care to get out for Scot, but Helen I don’t mind, it’s been a while, and I do want that cappuccino!

We’re going to stop at the pet store near her office and look for a big brown jumbo female rat, but I have yet to see this store, despite their huge selection, sell jumbos. I’m hoping they do now. I not only miss traditional brown rats and want a jumbo rat, but I want to breed her with Little Buddy.

Male rats kill mice, but according to what Tom said he heard at work, lady rats treat mice as if they were baby rats.

Before I get to the best news, which may not be all that great after all, I’m sitting here trying to decide which projects I wish to do tonight. I don’t have any work from Mary, so that leaves rearranging the bedroom and office closets, starting my consolidated autobiography, editing Teddy Bear’s copy of the parts of the jailhouse journal that’s been proofread, scanning in signs from my old sign language book, or doing more proofreading on my badly neglected jailhouse journal.

Well, I definitely don’t feel up to closet arranging, I can’t do anything else on the computer while I scan, so I guess I’ll work on my book.

Anyway, I thought for a minute there I found Rosa, but now I’m coming to think that this is an old address that hasn’t been updated in ages and that they did head down to Mexico as soon as she got released from jail.

It all started with a rather sad dream where I was still back in jail. I asked - Mena, I think it was - if she knew anything about Rosa and she told me she killed herself. I was stunned, thinking - no! Rosa wouldn’t do that! There were other parts to the dream that I can’t remember, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that washed over me as soon as I woke up and had time to let the dream sink in. It wasn’t just a dream. It was a message of some kind. Perhaps one saying I should look for her? After all, I never even tried. The name Rosa may be common, but Abraham isn’t, so I went to an online phone directory and got one hit in Phoenix. It’s near Mary, and I swear I recognize the address from when she’d address letters to him, and I showed her how to do the return address.

I’m not going to get my hopes up, but I sent a brief letter in Spanish to that address, explaining that I knew Rosa from jail and wished to visit with her, enclosing the PO Box and our number. As I said, the more I think about it, though, the more I doubt I’ll get a reply. I just don’t see why she and Abraham would want to remain in the US after what happened. Especially if the poor girl was falsely accused of murder. If it were me, I wouldn’t want to stay where there were so many painful memories. Besides, she told me how much she missed Mexico and that she did plan to head back there as soon as she got out.

Tom told me some crazy guy slit the throat of the driver of a Greyhound bus which resulted in an accident, killing 6 people. Of the people killed, the driver wasn’t one of them. Tom doesn’t know if the crazy guy was one of the ones killed.

I doubt it. God protects the crazy. He protects his crazies and his vindictive lazy little freeloaders with a vengeance.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2001 From the looks of it, I currently have 50 or 60 mice. Too many! But it’s fun to see what each batch produces.

I’m surprised Apple Cheeks didn’t come last week or the week before. I wish he’d come right now while I’m awake. I don’t want him coming next week while I’m trying to flip my schedule. Who says I have to open the door to him, though? He’s just going to have to see me here at my convenience.

I’m really behind on my book and other projects I plan to do. That’s because I’ve been doing a lot of scanning, scanning the special journal pages of my written journals, or the pages that stand out to me in some way, for some reason. I just finished this task today and will be sending Paula a few pages. Meanwhile, Tom will burn the pages I tore out. I tore out all journal pages, except for those where I copied people’s letters to me.

Now when the crazy laws get even crazier and you can’t write a damn thing without it being a crime, no one can get me in that department.

I wish I could figure out what was going on in back. I heard base thumping, and of course it was freeloader-induced. They’re working on something back there. Maybe the septic? I don’t know. They appear to be working in the middle of the road or even on the property in front. I really hope George didn’t buy the lot across the way! Maybe they’re paving that area? Maybe Tom can get a sense of what’s going on if he gets in before they’re done.

Anyway, there are just too many damn houses back there and there’s bound to be all kinds of noise sooner or later, even if it were just on weekends.

Tom stopped at Mary’s yesterday for the software to run this burner he’s in the process of installing for me, and she gave him critter treats to take home that she had for her hamster. There were so many! I thought I spoiled my pets, but never have my pets had half this many treats!

My teeth are still getting whiter. Now all I need is a tan and a new body!

MONDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2001 I still plan to get a female jumbo rat someday and breed them, too. Female rats are supposed to be really mellow compared to male rats, too. Little Buddy is one playful, hyper little guy!

Tom was telling me that someone at work told him that there are herbs I can take to help with my asthma that he’s looking into. It’s really weird. Some days I’m tighter than hell and other days I’m fine.

It’s been cloudy and windy, but it hasn’t produced any rain yet. We’re supposed to get rain from a hurricane in Mexico, but I don’t know.

I got my trays last Friday and have had no sensitivity problems with the bleaching gel. I find it best to sleep with the whitening stuff in. That way I don’t have to worry about getting thirsty with the trays in. When I try to drink with the trays in, it sucks some of the gel out. I’m doing this every night till I run out of stuff. When I run out I’ll decide if I want more. It may be something I do every 6 months or so. My teeth were noticeably whiter after just one treatment.

I’m going to be doing the fluoride treatments on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for 15 minutes indefinitely.

I hope to hear from Mary this week (I’ve given up on Paula) but in truth, the longer she puts off sending me more work, the more I can catch up on my own work. I’m way behind on my book, and I’m still scanning journals, too.

Tom’s been working on the computers, and just in case he saw my code, I changed it from avec mucho liebe (‘with much love’ in French, Spanish and German) to guten tag (‘good day’ in German). Like I said, not even he can have my password unless it was an emergency of some kind that I just can’t see. So, unless he has a way to get into the doc files that I don’t know about, they’re off-limits to him. I think, though, that if he were going to read my journals, he would’ve done it long ago. They’ve been sitting on the computer in readable format for years. Or maybe he read them while I was in jail.

He brought his mother’s computer home to fix and I may end up with her burner, so both of our computers will have them. I’d like to switch from backing up my shit on floppies to backing it up on CDs. I’ll have a CD in my office, one in the vent and one underground.

Saturday night I suddenly got horny and contemplated asking him to go down on me. I decided to ask, even though I knew I might be being a bit spontaneous for him, asking him if he’d feel awkward if I asked him to go down on me. “No,” he said. “Not as long as you reciprocate once in a while.” That part surprised me a bit. I didn’t think he needed any reciprocation.

So, he went down on me and yes, I got off by it. He said I owed him the next day, but as I figured, and secretly hoped would be the case, he never asked me to do anything to him. He said I’d owe him the next day (today), but the guy should know that just because I wanted him to go down on me that one night, doesn’t mean he has to feel obligated to say he wants stuff done to him. If he’s content not to have me do anything to him, so be it. I know it may sound selfish of me, but I don’t know that I want to do anything to him. Giving him handjobs are boring, and it’s like, I just don’t know if I want to go back to the same old boring, predictable sex. A part of me regrets asking him to do me the other night, fearing I may’ve opened up an old door I don’t want to walk through again. Doing stuff with him may be familiar and comfortable, but it’s not new and exciting like it would be with Teddy Bear, till she too, became all too familiar and comfy.

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goo-d-tama · 2 months ago

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My Flop Era: Is Lowkey Serving | Act 2, Entry #26

16 October 2022

Good evening, Philippines! Our flight yesterday went okay. There was that turbulence thingy but other than that, everything is good. I even won one of the games the airline has after the takeoff. They asked to show a boarding pass (like the game "bring me" or "fetch") and mine was literally on my hands because I was taking pictures, both for documentation and IG. Lol. It's destiny. The prize is just a cheap looking pouch with the airline's colors and logo on it. But I was so excited to have gotten it. [PS: That pouch became my cosmetics pouch for two years since I got it. It's slowly disintegrating now. Lol.] The plane is also half empty, again because of covid protocols. The seats in front of us are vacant. But halfway through the flight, a lady took the seats and laid down across them to sleep. When she woke, she turned around and told Meifei, "Sino yang kasama mo? Asawa mong hapon?" (Who's that with you, your Japanese husband?) WTAF. Do I look old? It's me who responded for Meifei because she is laughing maniacally. I said no, that we are cousins and that I'm Filipino.

It happened again at the immigration in NAIA (the airport in Manila, PH). They asked for the QR code (for covid report/tracing); so I showed my phone and the staff was like, "brightness.. bright.. up.. up.." with sign language. I said, "Yung brightness po ba?" (Is it the brightness?) and he was shocked and then laughed. He said he thought I'm not Filipino.

Honestly, it is a minor inconvenience sometimes being mistaken as a non-Filipino. There have been a few times now when taxi drivers (one time also a vendor) jacked up their prices because they thought I was a foreigner. And think of the times when someone wanted to hit on me but second guessed because they thought I don't speak the language. Lol. My dad and Pon Mi (Meifei's mom, if you can still remember; also part of The Trinity) picked us up at the airport. We arrived home at around 9PM. And since the house was vacant for three months, it is D I R T Y . It's a horror house! There are cobwebs everywhere, dust, some mould on wood.. it's a mess. And I can't believe my dad spent the night here without even sweeping the floor! I played with my dog for about 10 minutes (and her fur is matted, ears dirty, and just.. arg. What did dad do to her?) and then immediately changed to ragged clothes and cleaned the house. Jetlag? I don't know her. I cleaned until 1AM. Still, I wasn't able to finish everything. I'm tired. And you know me, I can't sleep in a messy house. So I called my cousin (Bing Xi Ling; if you would check the family flow chart) who lives nearby and told him I'm sleeping over.

I woke at around 12PM. Tia Fei sent me a message while I was asleep. It was a picture of their living room, specifically the reclining couch which is my spot, followed by another message saying, "Wala ka" (You're not here). Yup.. so there. [PS: She unsent them the day after, but sent a new one of Capt cakKe brushing his teeth. Lol. Tia Fei and I send each other TikToks up to this day, like internet besties. Lol.] After going home and eating, I continued cleaning right away. I gave up cleaning at around 8PM. There were breaks and pauses in between, of course. I still have the upstairs bathroom to clean and my dog to bathe, but I'm so tired. I feel ill, like a fever is coming. After a short rest, I took a long bath and am now on the bed, writing this. This last entry.. for now, I would like to believe. I want to thank you, my journal, for listening and keeping me company. Thick and thin, my friend! Thank you very very much. Mata desu, ne? I'll tell you more about it when I see you again 🎵🎵🎵 Lol. So long and goodnight!

Read the whole thing here.

#diary #flop #journal #literature #writing #please dont flop #poetry #flop posts #floptropica #writeblr #writers on tumblr

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jen-with-a-pen · 3 years ago

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THIS HOUSE HAD SWING IN IT - Before

Two

gen summary: Following the events of the Battle of Earth, Bucky is graciously pardoned and decides it's best to return back to his roots. Shelbyville, Indiana, to be exact. Recovering from his time in Wakanda, his brutal past, and the loss of his best friend, Bucky tries his hardest to finally find peace. In his attempts, you come along and change everything.

chapter summary: Homecoming. Undeserving. Hospitality. Alpine.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

a/n: this has been my pride n joy for six or seven months now, having been spurred when i finished reading vacant mirrors (not inspired by it, tho!) I have so many ideas for this series(?) but for now, enjoy these first couple installments while i gather my bearings and get tower fic figured out. happy new years, cheers to 2022 and some good writing ahead :)

cover art: original art from The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #1 by Derek Landy & illustrated by Federico Vincentini | edited by me via photoshop

want some background for this fic? check out my playlists for this work!

This House: The Swing Collection

This House Had Swing In It

disclaimer: the only places you'll find this fic, and my writing, will be my blog and my AO3. =)

When the news that the Winter Soldier was moving to Shelbyville broke, there was a small, sympathetic effort to help him out. People and veterans alike came out of the woodwork with a ‘no questions asked’ type of spirit. Some contacted realtors, a few got ahold of the VA, and others familiar with the Soldier’s history tracked down whatever was left of him from his time before the war.

Records were found, showing valuables and belongings had been split up between one James Buchanan Barnes and his three sisters once their mother passed. All those years, and it was all found shoved deep within an abandoned, and fortunately, overlooked storage unit that was then obtained by the local American Legion post. A dining room set, his father’s medals and folded flag, photo albums, records, a vintage three-way media cabinet, even his mother’s wedding ring.

Partnered with the good ol’ boys over at the VA— and maybe a little help from Sam Wilson and his convenient political leverage— the American Legion ever-so-kindly decorated the house purchased for Sergeant Barnes by the government. They had it furnished, painted, cleaned, the works.

They even gifted Bucky a brand-new Indian motorcycle, one which he incessantly protested accepting because he didn’t deserve it.

It had taken a week of reassurance from Sam that Bucky did deserve a decent mode of transportation. His decision might have even been influenced by the threat that Sam himself would fly him everywhere if that’s what he wanted.

However, something equally good did come out of moving back to Indiana.

Before he had settled in his first night in town, one of the Korean War Veterans approached his doorstep, a small ball of white fur wrapped in a blanket held tightly in his arms. A box containing a bag of food, two bowls, and a printout of medical information sat at the man’s feet when Bucky answered the door.

“Forgot this gal,” the man said as he offered it to Bucky, who took and delicately cradled the blanket in his arms. A white mound of fur stirred; out popped a small, whiskered face with two bright blue eyes and a pink nose. She yawned, purred softly, and settled back into her sleep.

Bucky stared at her in awe.

“One of my wife’s strays had a litter. Thought you’d want some company since you don’t have a gal,” the Vet quipped and coughed into his sleeve. “All her shots are up t’date, spay’s taken care of, too, when she’s older. All ya gotta do is name ‘er.”

In a daze, Bucky thanked the man and stepped back into his house, his living room. He cradled the kitten for what seemed like forever, debating what he would name her. He pondered for a good day or two when he finally settled on the perfect name.

Alpine.

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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

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Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterEight

GIF is not mine.

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

AO3> Land of Thieves

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, cursing, blood. Chapters Warnings: Slightly smut, panic attacks.

Words: +40K (i can’t do math sorry)

tags: @mionemymind

Something changed in your dynamic with Wanda. There was a tension, a longing. It made you hot and uncomfortable, hyper aware of her presence everywhere.

Even now, doing an activity as mundane as washing the dishes, while you caught a glimpse of Wanda sitting on a bench, cleaning her weapons with a rag, you tried to keep your attention on the chores, but your gaze returned to the woman a few feet in front of you, who didn't even look at you.

You wanted her to touch you again. And you couldn't stop thinking about it. But Wanda didn't seem willing to ease your suffering. She was torturing you, you realized. Maybe it was revenge, or maybe she just wasn't ready yet. Either way, she had you in her hand like a lost puppy, following her around the camp wherever she went.

Deciding that you needed to reclaim a minimal amount of control over yourself, you finished your chores, and headed toward Steve's tent, readily accepting whatever out-of-camp duties he had for you. Steve was surprised at your excitement to leave, but said nothing. He just explained that he needed a letter to be delivered to Stephen, who was no longer in camp. You offered to take the letter to the doctor all the way to town, and decided that you would buy yourself a new horse while you were in Saint Denis.

On the way back to your tent, you waved hello to Bruce, who was sitting by the campfire, cleaning his boots. He looked peaceful, and you expected him to talk to Nat about the two of them. He smiled and turned his attention back to the activity.

You took a jacket, and put on your holster, and your hat. You also remembered to take the little money you had saved from the last service.

Walking out of your tent toward the horses, you stroked the mane of your temporary mount. He was obedient enough, but you would sell him to add in the money needed for a new horse. It was strange to replace Knight, but it was unavoidable.

- Where are you going? - Wanda's voice sounded behind you, curious. You were slightly startled, and tried not to show your nervousness at seeing her.

- Saint Denis. I'm delivering a letter to Stephen, and I need a new horse.

- Oh, great. I'm going to Rhodes. We can ride together halfway.

Feeling your heart racing, you did your best not to sound too excited.

- Sure thing, Wanda. - You gave her a gentle smile, but she just looked at you with a glint in her eye that made your legs tremble.

- Good. - She said, walking toward her horse. You nodded slightly, and mounted yours.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you rode side by side in silence. It's been many minutes since you left the camp, and you are starting to get a little too anxious, so I decided to make conversation.

- So... what are you going to do in Rhodes?

Wanda looks calm as she rides alongside you, and she keeps looking forward.

- Steve told me to help Carol with the two families in town. - She says - As I understand it, she needs someone to infiltrate the Braithwaite mansion while she focuses on the other family, the Grays.

You nod with a grumble showing that you heard what she said.

- Be careful. - You ask, and Wanda smiles mischievously.

- I will.

You are silent again, and Wanda starts humming softly. You ride for a few more minutes when she speaks again.

- When I finish my work here, I'll meet you in Saint Denis. - She says, and you ignore the uncompensated beating of her heart.

- All right. - You say simply.

And then you arrive at the entrance of Rhodes. Wanda stops her horse right next to yours, and leans in to give you a lingering kiss on the mouth. You sigh at the contact, but she pulls away when you begin to properly respond. She smiles, and waves, riding away.

You shake your head, trying not to look like a complete mess, and turn your horse toward the road, riding all the way to Saint Denis.

Stephen seems happy. And you quickly find out why when his wife comes home while you are on the porch talking. Christine must be about five months pregnant, and you blink your eyes wide when you notice. She smiles, kisses you on the cheek and tells you how much you have grown, and then goes into the living room to put away the groceries.

- God, Doctor, three kids! - You exclaim with excitement, turning to Stephen, who laughs, leaning on the balcony ledge.

- I know, I know. - He says. - It was a surprise really. A good one, but still a surprise.

- And how are the girls? - you ask, leaning your elbow on the edge, looking at Stephen.

- Exceptionally mischievous. - He answers with a smile. - Much the same as you used to be, actually.

You laugh, turning to look at the city. You and Stephen are silent for a moment before he speaks again, now in a more serious tone.

- Did Steve tell you what the letter was about? - he asks without looking at you. You watch an elderly couple in the street below walk across the alley.

- No, he just told me to bring it to you.

Stephen lets out a sigh, you wonder why he is being so mysterious about this.

- He wants to go back to New Austin. - he says, and you frown, turning your head to him in surprise. - He wants me to get a big enough scam to get you all back there.

You bite your lips, thinking about it.

- Why can't we stay here? - you ask.

- This region is becoming civilized very quickly. - He explains. - The government is determined to put an end to outlaws in this place. Especially here in Saint Denis. The rich are moving here after all, and they don't like cowboys.

- From the look on your face, you already have a scam for us. - You say after a moment, and Stephen gives a sideways smile.

- Actually, you've already found my tip. - He says finally turning to you. - I heard about the two feudal families in Rhodes. They are sunk in gold in that place. - He explains and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. - The Braithwaites supply nearly all the liquor in this town. And the Grays own nearly all the businesses in Rhodes.

- This also means that they are dangerous. - You counter, and Stephen lets out a chuckle, but nods.

- Of course they are. - He says. - That much gold will not go unprotected.

- Do you have any idea how we are going to steal them?

Stephen sighs, running his hand through his hair to pull it back, and then leans back on the ledge with his arms.

- I haven't really thought about it yet. - he confesses. - But it will have something to do with their Moonshine, I'm sure. You will all be able to infiltrate the farms if you use the transport wagons.

- I see. - You say. - Write everything you know to Steve, maybe he can think of something too. - You are silent for a moment before you speak again - By the way, any chance of you participating in this job?

The man laughs lightly, denying with his head.

- I don't have anything in New Austin. - he says. - My whole life is here in the south. I can't risk leaving Christine alone to take care of everything. She needs me here, and I want to stay.

You nod in agreement. You don't understand the feeling that settles in your chest when you imagine what it would be like to have something like this.

- Come have some tea while I write my letter. - He invites you with a smile, and you accompany him into his house.

You keep Stephen's letter in the saddlebag of your saddle, not wanting to crumple the paper in your jacket pocket. You hug Stephen goodbye, and tell him to write whenever he can. You end up not meeting his daughters, because they don't come home from church until the time you left, but you tell Stephen to give them a kiss for you.

Riding towards the stable, you dismount your horse as you enter the establishment, while the owner of the place walks up to you looking excited.

- Oh, hello young lady! - He greets you. - How can I help you today?

- I need a new horse. - You tell the man as you hand the reins to the other stable employee.

- Oh, great. - He says and walks over to your horse, looking at it as if he were evaluating it. - Do you want to keep this one with us, or are you going to sell it?

- Sell. - You say.

- And the documents?

- No documents. - You reply, if the man made any judgment with that information, he did not show it.

- Of course this will affect the value. - He comments. - But I'll take it, yes. Come with me, I'll show you the horses we have.

You walk toward the horses stored in the stables. There are not many, but the breeds look good.

- We have Arabian horses, thoroughbreds, and appaloosas. - Comments the man signaling to the horses in front of him. - Oh, and we also have the big one there, a Missouri.

You nod, and walk toward the horses. They are all lovely, and seem obedient. You need one that is not so easily startled by gunfire, but you don't tell the seller that.

He waits patiently beside you, whistling as you look at the horses. You let out a sigh, making your decision.

- How much for Missouri? - you ask, looking at the salesman. He smiles excitedly.

- This little beauty is yours for $250.

You whistle.

- That is expensive.

The man lets out a weak laugh.

- Yes, yes. But it's a pure breed. - He argues without sounding aggressive. You can imagine how hard it is to keep a stable running in a town like this. - This breed is strong and lives a long life. It is also tame and loyal.

- That's fine. - You interrupt with a smile. - You can deduct the value of my horse from the price.

As you leave the stable, riding your new mare, you stroke her fur as you ride toward the saloon. You haven't thought of a name for your mount yet, you try to repeat names of famous figures along the way to choose one.

It doesn't take long to reach the place, and many curious glances land on you.

You tie your horse to the palanquin in front of the place, and walk inside.

It is crowded and noisy and everyone dresses very nicely there. You don't know when Wanda will finish the job, so you decide to play a bit of poker while you wait.

You walk over to the card table and no one seems to mind if you join the game. The dealer smiles at you when you pay your entrance fee.

Many rounds later, you have probably left the table with less money than you arrived with, although you have won a few rounds.

You walk toward the bar, and as you sip your beer, a man leans on the counter beside you, a glass of booze in his hand.

- Greetings, stranger. - He says and you raise your eyebrow suspiciously, without looking at him.

- Can I help you, friend? - you ask snidely, hoping he will leave you alone. The man straightens his posture, turning his body toward you.

- Just a friendly chat. - He replies with irony, taking a sip of his drink while facing you.

- Go have a conversation with someone else then. - You grumble as you turn to him, a mock expression on your face. But then he makes an angry expression, and puts his drinking glass down on the counter.

- Let's cut straight to business then. - He says. - You stole my money.

- I beg your pardon?

- The carriage you stole in Rhodes. - He hits back. - That job was mine.

You let out a dry laugh.

- What do you want me to say? I'm sorry you're not a good thief?

The man then let out a laugh, completely losing his aggressive posture.

- Damn, I'm messing with you. - He says. - Actually, I gave up on that carriage. And you should know why.

You are slightly surprised by the insinuation, but you relax your body, leaning your back and elbow on the counter, while keeping your voice low to prevent snoopers from hearing you.

- Who gave you the carriage tip? - You ask the man, and he smiles and rests his body on the counter beside you.

- It wasn't the same guy as you, you can be sure of that. - He answers in a teasing tone. You smile, waiting for him to continue. - My contact warned me about the carriage, but I declined the service. - He tells you, and bites his lips thoughtfully for a moment. - I didn't imagine that anyone else would accept.

You shrugged.

- There is always more than one person wanting to steal the same things. - You retort, making me laugh slightly. - But why all the secrecy? Just tell me what you want.

The man laughs again, finding your impatience amusing. He takes a sip of his drink, looking serious again.

- I found out the origin of the carriage. - He explains - But I don't have a gang. And I need company.

You laugh, frowning, and then turn to him.

- Just tell me what you mean.

- You see this object hanging below my holster? - he asks, and your gaze immediately drops downward. - It is a talisman from the people of Wakanda.

- The natives?

He nods in agreement, and you look away from the small embroidered circle strapped to his holster.

- I think everybody knows them as the Panthers now. - He remarks with a light humor in his voice.

- What does this have to do with the carriage?

The man laughs.

- I'm getting there. - He jokes before turning back to a serious expression. - The American government has gone to great lengths to wipe out the natives of the region. The Wapiti people have been practically isolated in the north of the country. - He comments with a slight irritation in his voice. - And the Wakanda, well, they barely survived with oil exploration. And then, when the war happened, they recovered. They're all over the country now. - He pauses to steal some of your beer, and you cast him an incredulous look, but say nothing. - But then, the government is civilizing this area now. And they don't want to share the land with anyone else. The wagon you stole was carrying the pay of a group of soldiers, camped north of here.

- I imagine they were not happy not to be paid. - You comment, and the man laughs lightly.

- Oh yes, that's for sure. - He says. - What bothers me is what they are doing in the north. I just found out that the army is assigning soldiers to destroy the indigenous reservations. - He states and you frown - They vandalize sacred areas and shrines, and steal the horses to prevent hunting, which consequently leads to starvation.

- This is horrible. - You say, and the man shrugs his shoulders in agreement. And then you fall silent for a moment, while you ponder what exactly he wanted. You bite your lips, before speaking again. - Look, I'm sorry about the whole situation with the Wapiti and the Wakanda people. But I don't understand how all this is my problem.

The man let out a wry smile, but didn't look at you. Then he finished the beer.

- Interesting last name you have. - He remarked. - Interesting origin.

You frowned, finally understanding.

- Don't you dare talk about my family. - You strike back in a threatening tone. It takes a moment before he speaks again.

- Your people need your help.

You let out a wry laugh.

- I don't have a people. - You hit back aggressively.

- Your great-grandmother was Wakanda, and your grandfather was Wapiti, you will always be part of that people, even if you decide to walk around pretending you're not.

Clenching your fists and locking your jaw in anger, you turn to the counter again, ignoring the urge you have to punch the man. You concentrate on your breathing, to calm yourself, while you can't ignore the fact that he was right.

- I'll let you think about it. - said the man, tapping you lightly on the shoulder. - By the way, my name is Erik Killmonger. Look for me when you change your mind. - He says before dropping a few dollars on the counter and walking out.

You sink your face into your hands for a second, letting out a dissatisfied grumble. It's been so long since you thought about your parents.

You didn't remember your childhood so well. But the more you thought about it, the clearer the few memories became. You think you lived on a ranch, you remember horses and sheep. And then you have this memory of your father showing you how to make a bow. You remember dream catchers in your house, and you swallow dry.

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you think Erik has returned, and turn around with a serious expression. But it is Wanda who is beside you, she smiles, and you feel your body relax immediately.

- Hi - You greet her as you look at her. She looks beautiful, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders.

- You seem tense. - She says leaning her elbow on the counter while looking at you.

- My past is haunting me. - You playfully shrug. Wanda frowns with confusion, and when you explain it to her, she looks quite surprised.

- You never told me about your parents. - She comments tenderly. You shake your shoulders uncomfortably.

- It's a delicate topic, I think. - You confess. - It makes me sad.

Wanda held your hand gently, stroking the top of it with her finger. You smile for the touch.

- I guess... I just didn't expect it. - You say. - I didn't expect that anything related to my family would come back to me.

- You want to help them, don't you? - Wanda deduces, looking at you fondly. You smile and nod in agreement.

- But that can wait. - you say after a moment. - I'd like to spend some time with you now.

Wanda seems slightly surprised by the change of subject, and a little shy at the invitation, but she smiles at you.

- Where would you like to go? - she asks, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you think.

- We could just walk around town. - You answer. - Watch the sunset, then go to the theater.

Wanda laughs slightly at the charming smile you flash her, and then she nods.

You walk out of the saloon, Wanda's arm wrapped around yours. Your steps are slow, both of you wanting the walk to last as long as possible.

You chat softly about various subjects, mostly reminiscing about your childhood memories, like when you tried to tame Bucky's horse and he knocked you down like a bull, or when you and Wanda got a scolding from Potts when you arrived at the camp covered in mud.

Wanda's laughter made your stomach turn with nervousness, and you couldn't remember exactly when you fell in love with her. Part of you thinks it's always been this way, ever since she arrived in the gang with a grumpy face and worn boots, and an accent she'd lost over the years, you fell for her. Hard, fast, and immediately.

As the afternoon falls, you head for the theater. You are a little embarrassed when the box-office clerk asks you if you were a fan of the actors, and you tell him that you didn't really know the play, and he gives you an incredulous look. But Wanda smiles at you, and you just buy your tickets quickly.

You sit in the back, and you think you have paid attention to two minutes of the entire play. Wanda was laughing about the show next to you, and you held your breath as you watched her. She was breathtaking.

You didn't even hide that you were staring, although you felt your cheeks heat up when she turned her face to you, but Wanda smiled and matched the intensity of your gaze. The theater was dark, but you could still see her green orbs in the low light.

- It's not polite to stare. - She teases you by looking straight ahead again. You smile, and then lean toward her.

- I can't help it. - You whisper in her ear. - You're beautiful. - Wanda sighs, but doesn't look away from the stage. You step back, a shy smile on your face, and then you hold your breath when you feel her hand on your thigh.

- What are you doing? - You ask breathlessly as you feel her caress your thigh in a down-and-up motion. Wanda looks around, and then turns her face to you.

- You will be quiet for me won't you? - She asks with tenderness and malice in her voice. You feel your heart race. Wanda begins to unbuckle your belt slowly, and you look around. You are in the last row, hidden by the darkness of the theater. At least two rows are empty beside you and in front of you, and the play has just begun with a music number, and you would not be heard. Yet you shivered in anticipation.

- Wanda, for heaven's sake. - You said, but she just kept unbuttoning your pants. And then she brought your faces together and kissed you hard. Your tongue met hers at the same moment she slipped her hand into your pants, and you let out a hoarse moan against her, feeling your body tremble.

Wanda stroked your pussy with one finger superficially, making you gasp against her mouth. She smiled against the kiss, pleased with the way your body responded to her. And then she parted your mouths to deposit slow, wet kisses against your chin and down your neck, as her finger caressed you. You closed your eyes tightly, overwhelmed by the sensations.

Then Wanda penetrated your pussy, and you had to bite her shoulder to keep from screaming. As she began to move in and out of you, you whimpered as your whole body shook.

- Be quiet. - Wanda whispered in your ear tenderly, but it was hard to obey when she stimulated your clitoris with her thumb.

- Wanda, I'm goin' to... - You started to say, but your voice faltered. Your eyes rolled back in their sockets as she hit a particular spot. You were doing your best to control the spasms in your body, not wanting to make so much noise.

- I know, darling. - Said Wanda as she brought your foreheads together, and then she whispered against your mouth - Come for me.

You moaned against her mouth, and she only had to push into you once or twice more before you fell apart in her fingers. As you tried to normalize your breathing, Wanda removed her fingers from you, and lifted them to her own mouth, tasting you. You sighed at the image, and moved in, kissing her hard.

But then she parted your mouths, smiling innocently as she zipped up your pants and buckled your belt.

You were about to say something, but then the theater lights came on. The play was over. It took you a few seconds to get up, your wobbly legs not helping you keep your balance.

Wanda held your arm again as you left the theater, and you invited her to come back to the saloon, and rent a room, and Wanda bit her lips as she nodded in agreement.

However, as you passed in front of one of the many alleys leading to the saloon, you heard a noise. Wanda heard it too, and you exchanged a look as you turned your heads to get a better look. It was hard to see in the darkness of the street, but then someone was thrown forward, falling to the floor of the alley. You both let out a startled exclamation, taking a step back. But then you recognized that it was the same man from the bar.

- Fuck. - You grumbled as you released yourself from Wanda, rushing into the alley and hitting the assailant with a hard punch to the face.

You helped Erik sit up next, and grimaced at his bloodied face. He looked too injured to fight, and was leaning against the wall trying to breathe normally. And then the assailant was back, a silver knife in his left hand.

It was difficult to fight in an alley, but you dodged the man's attempts to stab you and then hit him in the face again. And when he bent over in pain, you disarmed him, throwing the knife away. The man let out an angry yell and jumped at you, knocking you to the ground by your waist. You let out a grunt of pain at the impact, and were about to raise your arms to protect your face from the punch he was preparing to throw, but then he was hit with a kick to the face.

He fell to the floor unconscious, and you looked up to see Wanda with a deadly glare in the attacker's direction. But then her expression softened, and she helped you up, a small smile on her lips.

- You're losing your touch, my love. - She teased you, causing you to roll your eyes humorously. You hurried to check on Erik, kneeling beside him.

- Hey, buddy. - You say, raising your hand toward his face, looking at his wounds. It's nothing serious, he must have been hit many times and it bewildered him. - You're going to have one hell of a scar.

He laughed breathlessly, and then coughed. And then you noticed that he had a hand on his chest. You frowned, as you lowered his hand to see what it was. An open wound was bleeding from his chest, you hurried to apply pressure.

- Oh, shit. - You exclaimed, trying to stop the bleeding. But you knew it was deep enough to have hit his lung.

- We're going to lose this war, girl. - He told you weakly.

- Who did this to you? Who are these people? - you asked.

Erik coughed up blood this time.

- Please. - he asks, reaching into his jacket pocket with his arm. He hands you a piece of paper. - Help them escape.

And then he closes his eyes, and his head drops down. You blink several times, trying to understand that he is dead. Your last connection to your family has been broken. Wanda removes your trembling hands from his bloody chest, and raises her hands to your face, making you look at her.

- We can't stay here. - She says in a serious tone, but her eyes are gentle. - We have to go now.

You nod, still in shock. Wanda drags you into the alley, and you go around the block. You say nothing, and she doesn't push.

As you get back on your horses, you hear the whistles of the city guards in the distance, signaling that they have found Erik.

You get on your horses, and ride toward the camp.

You think you are dying. One minute you're riding in silence beside Wanda, and the next, your vision is blurred, and you feel a pressure in your chest. You think you can't breathe, so you dismount, crouching down as you put your hands on your knees, reaching for air. All you can see is Erik's bloody chest and then the graves of your parents. You think you start to cry, but you're not quite sure.

And then, Wanda's hands are on you, and she hugs you tight, asking you to breathe. She brings you back to reality with gentle words and soft touches.

- I'm sorry. - You manage to mumble against her hair. Wanda shakes her head in denial, and says you don't have to apologize for anything.

She hugs you for several minutes, until you can breathe normally. When you look at her, she wipes the tears from your face.

Wanda attaches the reins of your horse to hers, and you ride Lily along with her. You hug her, laying your head on her back as she rides back to camp.

Despite the softness, and Wanda's low singing, you avoid falling asleep so that you don't fall off the horse.

When you arrive, you are feeling exhausted. And you tell Wanda that you need to talk to Steve and Bucky, but she insists that you should sleep, and drags you into your tent. And then she leaves, and doesn't come back until minutes later with a bucket of water. You are startled when you notice the dried blood on your own hands, but Wanda touches your face, calming you as she helps you clean yourself up.

When she is finished, she helps you off with your boots and jacket, only now you realize how sore you were from the fight. She gives you a kiss on the forehead as you lie down, but you don't let go of her hand.

- Wanda. Stay. - You whisper to her. You don't mind that the bed is tight.

Wanda removes her boots and you open your arms for her to lie on top of you. The pressure of her body on yours keeps you anchored, and you tighten your arms against her before falling asleep.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wandaxreader #wanda x you #wandaxyou #Land of Thieves #marvel imagines #red dead redemption au

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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Stark’s Girl

part 014/015 “one more time, captain”

previous part // next part

masterlist

word count 3.9k

an: this part does include dialogue from avengers endgame, which is not my work nor do i claim it to be!

It’s been five years since the Blip. You had been back by Natasha’s side for almost six months now, and she was grateful for every moment. There were days where she would break down (which until recently was unheard of) and you would be there by her side. And she had done what she could to help you out with your trauma. Before you accepted her offer of coming back, she had put two and two together when she recognized the faces on the news to the faces that had adorned a spare room in that house of yours in Ransdorp. Natasha had a past of her own, no doubt about that, so she could relate to how you had felt when you admitted on your own time what you had been up to those few years after Siberia.

It wasn’t an easy conversation, at one point you had broken down into sobs and reminded her a lot of herself when she had taken some time after a mission gone wrong years back. She mostly understood the shame that coursed through you, but one thing she made you understand was what HYDRA had done, the things you did because of them, wasn’t your fault. Natasha also made sure to tell you the blackouts weren’t your fault either, and she understood why you did what you had done. Although it was trauma you would have to live with, she knew the feeling better than most of losing your years to programs like that.

All of this was to say that both women had a newfound respect and understanding of one another. It became easier to work alongside one another, being able to almost anticipate one’s actions and decisions as they occurred. No one had seemed to really get Nat like that since Barton.. Which was why she was so hell bent on tracking him down.

Natasha had come to the realization about a year ago that Barton had gone off the radar because his family was among those they lost. When bodies started piling up (not due to your hands) and some of the known details were faint signatures of Barton’s handiwork.. Nat made it her mission to find him. Because this was not him. And although he was taking down some questionable people, they weren’t responsible for Thanos.

“Listen fur-face,” Carol Danvers threw out that regained Nat’s attention. “I’m covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth are happening everywhere, on thousands of planets.”

“All right all right, that’s a good point,” Rocket remarked. Nat stole a glance your way to which you only offered a shrug as Carol continued.

“So.. You might not see me for a long time,” she redirected towards Nat. Natasha nodded her head and leaned forward on the desk she sat behind.

“Alright.. Well this channel is always active. If anything goes sideways, anyone’s making trouble where they shouldn’t, it comes through me.”

Everyone agreed and one by one the holograms disappeared. You took a seat in front of the desk, and Nat redirected her attention to Rhodes. “Where are you?

“Mexico,” Rhodes answered. “The Federales found a room full of bodies, looks like a bunch of cartel guys. They never even had a chance to get their guns off.”

Nat shrugged her shoulders and sat back in her seat. “Probably a rival gang.”

“Except it isn’t,” Rhodes countered. Natasha’s eyes shift, and your gaze shoots up at her. “It’s definitely Barton.. What he’s done here, what he’s been doing the last few years.. Nat, the scene he left?.. I gotta tell you, a part of me doesn’t want to find him.”

Natasha grabbed the sand which she had prepared just earlier and bit a piece off. She just needed to focus on something other than what Rhodes was telling her, she didn’t need anyone to see her cry right now. “Will you find out where he’s going next?”

“Nat,” Rhodes tried to warn.

“Please,” Natasha pleaded. You glanced Rhodey’s way and he met your eyes. You offered a grim look, and he sighed.

“Okay.”

And with that Rhodey’s comm broke off too. You watched as Nat placed the sandwich back down and sighed deeply, all before her face began to scrunch up into a sob. You were quick out of your seat and moved around the desk and kneeled by her side. “Nat.. Nat we’re gonna find him.”

“I just don’t know why he couldn’t come to me,” she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “I know this must be hard for him, losing Laura and the kids, but he could’ve come to me.”

You reached your hand out to rub her shoulder and let out a small sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to let those you care about see in you in those dark places.”

Nat finished rubbing under her eyes and grabbed the sandwich off her plate again with her other hand. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding the talk with Steve?”

You bit back the smile and stood. She had done what she did best, diverted the conversation from herself to something else. “You’re still on about that?”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen the way you look at one another,” Natasha prodded as you went to gather your things. “How much longer are you going to wait to be happy?”

The question made you pause, and before you could respond Nat perked up at something behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and was met with none other than Steve Rogers, hands in his pockets, and with a small smile on his face.

“Speak of the devil,” Natasha joked. Your gaze immediately went back to her and you gave her your best glare, while Steve raised his brow at her. They were so easy to mess with, she thought. “Here to do your laundry?”

“And to see some friends,” Steve replied. You held your things closer to your chest as Steve came further into the room.

“I’m actually getting ready to leave for Tony’s,” you threw out there. “I promised to go see my favorite niece.”

“Are you going to be okay making the drive this late at night?” Steve asked. Natasha rolled her eyes to herself and took a hefty bite of her sandwich. If she had to watch another pining episode she was going to make sure you two never heard the end of it. You, on the other hand, smiled at his sentiment.

“Oh I think I can manage,” you told him. You offered your farewells, and started back to your room to grab your bag and head out. Steve watched you leave before looking back at Nat who was waving him off.

“Meet me in the kitchen, I need a drink,” she told him, and took her sandwich with her towards the kitchen area. Steve chuckled lightly, and followed in your steps to the residence area. He was just catching you outside your room, and he took a deep breath and pulled something out of his pocket, clutching it in his fist. You heard him approach and looked his way, shutting your door and offering a smile.

“Hey,” you managed before Steve got up to you, and his serious expression made your smile fall. “Are you okay..?”

“Seven years ago I asked you if one day you’d want to get away from all of this,” Steve started. You remembered the conversation far too well, and immediately shut your mouth in a tight expression. A heaviness filled your chest, but you tried your best to ignore it. “From this life where we were needing to be more than just us… Do you remember?”

“Yes-”

“I told you that I would wait for you, no matter how long it took, no matter what happened, because.. Because you have been the best thing to happen to me since I came out of the ice. You taught me how to live again,” Steve continued.

“Steve,” you whispered, but he kept going.

“I love you,” he admitted, finally looking into your eyes. They were darker than usual, and you could see he meant it. “I couldn’t go another day without telling you. Because.. You feel like home.”

Steve grabbed a hold of your hands, and you watched as he placed something into your palms. He retracted his hold on you and your fingers curled over the soft velvety box in your hand. You looked up at him with curious eyes, and slowly used your thumb to open the box and let out a small gasp.

“Steve,” you whispered, staring down at the contents.

“It was my moms.. SHIELD saved it when I went into the ice,” Steve explained. You carefully ran your finger over the gold banded ring that practically shined up at you. You hadn’t seen a more beautiful piece of jewelry, and did your best to fight back the tears. “I’m not expecting an answer.. But I just wanted you to see that I meant it. It was always meant for you anyway.. Maybe we still have a shot at that normal life.”

Your gaze went back up to his, and he smiled softly at you. You were speechless as one of his hands grabbed onto your arm and he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. And then you watched him take a couple steps back, before he turned around and went back the direction you both had just come.

You were shocked, which even then felt like an understatement. Steve just.. Proposed. Inadvertently? Well it was purposeful, and if Natasha knew about it you were going to kill her for not saying anything. It took you a while to reclose the box and carefully place it into a pocket in your bag, it was delicate and you wanted to take care of it.

And well.. It certainly kept your mind occupied on your drive to Tony’s cabin.

Tony had left your room untouched for the most part, which was a welcomed thing to come into. You weren’t up for too long, forcing Tony to go to bed, but you did spend some time scrolling through your phone. Steve was right when he had said he wasn’t expecting an answer right away, you half expected a message of some sort but things seemed relatively quiet from his end. It was harder to fall asleep that night, you found yourself drifting off to what would happen if you said yes.

You’d want to move somewhere quiet, like what Tony did. That would give you a chance to refocus yourself.. Would that even be something Steve would be open to doing?.. Could he get you the same help he had gotten Barnes (Natasha said he felt at peace for once)? Hell, if they could just wipe out any lingering thoughts of Hydra you’d never have another problem in your life.

What’s more.. If you said no would this be what you life is like? Alone, and longing for the maybe’s that could have been? Which was better? Risk getting involved again, or risk never having that connection to someone again? It wasn’t the ideal question to fall asleep to.

When morning broke and sunlight peeked through the blinds, you woke up and found yourself sitting among the sheets and staring at the open box in your hands. The diamond that sat in the middle and gleamed in the sunlight made you sigh, it felt as if it was screaming at you that you knew what you wanted to tell him.

Did you?

You snapped the box closed and hid it in a drawer beside the bed and decided to change into something other than sweatpants for the day. After finishing and bounding down the stairs you ended up behind your favorite little niece, and scooped her up into a bear hug from behind. “There’s my little sleeping beauty!”

“She couldn’t wait to see her favorite aunt today,” Pepper remarked from the kitchen amongst the giggles that erupted from her daughter. You peppered kisses on Morgan’s head, and Pepper turned around as she was drying what you assumed was breakfast dishes. “Tony barely had to tuck her in before she was out.”

You set Morgan back down on the ground and she went back to messing with a toy on the breakfast table. You ruffled her hair and went to grab a cup of coffee before resting your hip against the counter besides Pepper. “How has he been?”

“A little stir crazy,” Pepper admitted to which you nodded lightly and sipped at your warm mug. “He put up this picture of the kid and I catch him getting lost looking at it.”

“And how have you been?” You asked. Pepper glanced your way and smiled.

“Hoping one day he’ll finally rest his mind.”

Eventually, you brought Morgan outside who immediately ran towards her tent and disappeared inside. You went towards the shed with an open door, and leaned against the frame, taking in the sight of Tony wielding what you could make out was a helmet. “Work never stops for you, does it?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder and waved you in, which you accepted. You came up behind him and gripped his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “You’re supposed to be retired, old man.”

“It’s just a little project,” Tony tried to assure you. You couldn’t help but scoff, and pointed your thumb to a corner of the room.

“Says the one who built me a new suit last year,” you teased. Tony used one hand to back hand your side playfully and you laughed. You stood beside him now, and grabbed a picture frame sitting on the shelf over where he worked. It was a picture of the two of you when you were younger, barely big enough to fit the frame, and slightly discolored. You ran your hand over the front before putting the frame back and rubbing your hands together. “Can I talk to you about something..?”

“Anything, kid,” Tony said, overly engrossed in the task in front of him. You took a deep breath and shrugged your shoulders, not that he could even see you.

“When did you know that.. Well that you didn’t want to wait anymore? To start a family?”

Tony immediately stopped what he was working on, taking off a pair of clear protective glasses and setting his tool down. When he turned to face you and rest his elbow on the table, he tilted his head and scrunched his brows. “Excuse me?”

“Come on Tony, I’m being serious,” you told him.

“Yeah well so am I!” Tony exclaimed and stood. You watched as he stood from his stool and started to pace back and forth. You crossed your arms and huffed. He was acting like such a child! As if he could read your thoughts he stopped and pointed a finger at you. “It’s Steve isn’t it? Is he pressuring you or something?”

“What? No! Why would you even think that-”

“Because he’s hard headed and doesn’t know when to stop,” Tony said, cutting you off. You shook your head and scoffed.

“Tony please, this isn’t about you two-”

“I told him if he messes with your feelings again.. I swear when I get a hold of him,” Tony started pacing again and you rolled your eyes and started towards him. “He has some nerve-”

“Tony,” you stopped him dead in his tracks and made him face you, finally getting a hold of his gaze. “He didn’t do anything to me, okay? If anything.. He’s been trying to make up to me what happened.”

Tony sighed and his expression softened, but you shrugged. “I know he lied to us about knowing what happened to mom and dad… But you always told me that I wasn’t what Hydra made me, that what I did wasn’t me but them… Tony, why is Barnes so different?”

“Steve lied to us,” Tony said in a low tone. “He lied to protect his friend but what about us, huh? We weren’t his friends? We didn’t deserve to know the truth?”

“He handled it wrong Tony, I know. I’m just saying does that outweigh all the good he did for us,” you offered. Tony sighed and looked away for a moment as if annoyed. You grabbed a hold of his hand and it forced him to look back at you. “He’s trying.. And you told me that sometimes just trying was a good start.”

Tony sighed and raised a brow at you. “I hate it when you throw things back in my face like that.”

You chuckled and Tony used his free hand to cover the hand holding his. “Look I’m still iffy on the idea but.. If Rogers is who you want to be with then who am I to stop it? I’m a family man now anyway, I have bigger fish to fry.”

And with that his phone buzzed in his pocket, and while he fished it out you laughed little. “She’s turning out too much like you.”

“Scares me to death everyday,” Tony replied while checking the message from Pepper. “Time to feed the munchkin anyway, we can continue this talk later when I’ve had a couple drinks.”

Tony and you walked side by side to Morgan’s play tent, and after finally getting her out. Tony whisked her up when you felt your phone buzz, and you pulled it out to see a notification from Natasha. It was weird, she normally didn’t bother you when you were with Tony, she always said to focus on family time. You fell back a few steps and read her message.

Nat: Heads up, you got incoming.

“Incoming?” You muttered to yourself as you came up the steps behind Tony. You nearly knocked into him. You followed his gaze to the car coming to a stop in front of his cabin, and watched Steve, Natasha, and someone else get out. Steve’s expression was serious, hell all of theirs were and Tony didn’t look amused. Natasha offered a nod to Tony and he turned to you, and you took Morgan from him with a smile. “Let’s go see mom, hm?”

You quietly walked inside and set Morgan at the table and met Pepper’s look before she returned to watching out the window. You ruffled Morgan’s hair and returned back outside, the screen door thumping closed behind you. The three visitors started up the stairs as you rejoined Tony’s side.

“Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Steve offered. Tony glanced your way with a look. You could only shrug. What? You didn’t know they were coming. But if they did then.. Something was up.

“We have something though that we think might work.. To get everyone back,” Natasha said. Your breath hitched, and when you looked over at Tony there was a hint of something in his eyes. The third person stepped forward and nodded at the both of you.

“Have you two heard of the Quantum Realm?”

It was.. A long explanation. Everyone was gathered in a circle at this point, and in all honesty you had a hard time following along. There were stolen glances between you and Steve, and each time a feeling grew in the pit of your stomach. But you forced yourself to pay attention because this was big.. Could it work though?

“Now, we know what this sounds like,” Scott had finished up before Steve cut in.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything really impossible?” He asked. Tony was looking out to the lake near his home but when addressed he looked back at the group and gripped onto the railing.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony asked. You glanced at everyone else and cleared your throat.

“Maybe for those of us not fluent in quantum mechanics, Tony?” You asked. Tony sighed and tapped his fingers on the wood.

“In layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home,” was all he offered.

“But I did,” Scott offered. Tony shook his head at that.

“No, you accidentally survived,” Tony corrected. “It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a... What do you call it?”

Scott cleared his throat. “A time heist..?”

Tony scoffed in a joking manner and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn't we think of this before?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them,” Scott tried to reason.

“We can snap our own fingers. We can bring everyone back,” Natasha chimed in.

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony asked. Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t believe we would,” Steve said.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism,” Tony said in a sarcastic tone. Everyone went back and forth for a while. Tony shot down every claim, and the rest tried to tell him there’s always a chance. The back and forth didn’t stop until the screen door was pushed open and Morgan came up to Tony’s side.

“Mommy told me to come and save you,” she said. You couldn’t help but smile and cross your arms. Tony picked her up and pat her back.

“Good job, I’m saved,” he reassured her. He refocused on the group and offered a shrug. “I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I... I missed you guys, it was... Oh, and table's set for seven.”

.”Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance,” Steve tried again, but Tony shook his head.

“I got my second chance right here,” Tony told him. You could see Steve accept his denial and then met Tony’s gaze. “I can’t roll the dice again.”

Tony excused himself and the porch fell silent. You watched him disappear into the house and looked back at the group in front of you. No one knew what to say, but Natasha was the first to speak. “Sorry for interrupting your weekend.”

“Well when you have a hell of a plan like that I don’t expect you to wait normal business hours,” you replied. Natasha sadly smiled and you sighed. “Tony has everything he’s ever wanted.. I don’t know if I can sweet talk him into helping.”

“We know,” Steve offered and gave a sad smile. “We just wanna do it right.”

“Tony may not be on board but.. If there’s a chance? I’m in,” you offered. Nat reached out and pat your shoulder and as if knowingly, she turned around and pulled Scott with her. You took a couple steps towards Steve and he straightened up a bit. “Nice to see you back, Cap.”

“One last mission,” Steve whispered. You smiled and looked behind him at the car he had come in and Natasha smirked at you. You met Steve’s gaze again and slowly lifted her young to rest on his cheek. On your tiptoes and with the sun basking in the sky, you leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Steve had leaned into your touch, his lips pressing against yours as if it would be the last. After a couple seconds you pulled away and you both lingered close.

“Go save the world one more time, Captain.”

- - - - - - - - - -

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sparklingchan · 4 years ago

Text

Taste of Spring || Han Jisung (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Han.

Word count : 2.4k+

Warnings : Cuss words, slight mentions of heartbreak, not proof read. .

Genre : Fluff, slight angst , best friends to lovers AU.

Description : For Jisung, the world is either black or white - friendship or love. You happen to find yourself stuck in the grey.

A/N: Haven’t written an skz drabble in a while so yeah, here it is(whatever this is lol) and I’ve had this in my drafts for a whole month now. Damn. Sorry, Jisung.

I hope y’all like it <3

Enjoy!

You had not seen your best friend in what felt like ages when in reality it had only been two weeks or so. But you often find yourself missing him at odd hours ,at the most random moments these days.

"I'll be back before dinner. Take care of my cat. Please." You call out to your sister who sits on the couch , sipping some cucumber induced water that apparently burns calories, and watching a very brutal, violent TV show that you wouldn't even want to ask her about.

"Say hi to Jisung for me." she replies with a quirk of an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly grin. You roll your eyes but the heat has already tinted your cheeks and ears red by the time you exit your house and are walking down the street towards Han Jisung's abode.

As you continue on the road, you feel the taste of an incoming Spring in the air, sweet and full of love. You didn't know why or how or even if it were at all possible in the first place, but you could feel spring knocking on the door ,waiting to be welcomed in.

An old couple walks past you, hand in hand and eyes focused on each other and you inevitably catch yourself thinking about Jisung for some reason. You've both made a lot of fond memories during your spring breaks - you were both inseparable back then.

Even now you are inseparable but things are different.

He was your best friend and nothing more ,yet you find yourself questioning your true feelings towards the boy these days more often than not ,all whilst wondering when you had crossed over the line of wanting to be friends to something more.

"Oh,y/n! Come on in ,honey." Jisung's mother has been nothing but sweet to you throughout all 18 years of your life and you honestly blamed her for making you want to visit their place more often.

But then again, maybe it's not really the mother's hospitality that pulled you in, maybe it is her son's tooth decaying sweetness that brings out the deepest desires from your heart.

You walk into their house , a sense of familiarity washes over you just how it does whenever you walk into your own house too.

"He's in his room ,as usual. Go on. I'll send some snacks in for you." She adds, patting you softly on the shoulder.

Jisung's room is almost always a mess and sometimes one might even find the boy leaving a trail of garbage everywhere he goes, so you aren't surprised when you find a few crumpled piece of paper lying just outside his door. Clumsy little Han.

"Ji-" your words are cut short when you hear his voice from inside , as loud as ever, probably speaking to one of his friends who he also lovingly refers to as his babies(he sometimes calls you baby too ; on purpose or by accident, who knows?) But he seems very into the conversation right now - almost serious which you find rather unlikely for Han Jisung who has very proudly nicknamed himself as Comedian Han since eight grade.

It's the semester break and spring is around the corner - two things Jisung loves the most in the world so there should be no apparent reason for him to be having this deep of a conversation, especially early in the morning. However as his voice grows louder and more frustrated , you cannot help but wonder if there is actually something seriously troubling him.

Curious , you peek into the room through the small crack of the door.

"I know I'm being a coward Changbin but I can't do that to her. She's all I have ,man." he speaks into the phone , leaning down on his rotatory chair.

You freeze in your spot,your heartbeat resonating from every inch of your body. Who's he talking about?

"What? Are you out of your mind? I cannot tell her what I feel. That's the whole point of this damn phone call ,you fucker!" he yells.

You focus harder on their voices , trying to make out the gibberish Changbin replies with from the other end of the call.

Your body aches from standing so soundlessly, leaning half against the wall and half against the wooden door but you tell yourself to bear it for a little longer.

"No. No way. I can't. I can't do this to y/n!" Jisung hisses into the phone and then with a big pop, your bubble bursts -a bubble that you'd been building since you both were kids , designed carefully with dreams and hopes of a happy ever after with the boy in front of you. But you were weaving these dreams out of nothing but thin air. There never was anything to begin with and you always knew that.

Of course he has another girl in his life. He doesn't owe anything to you. You have no right to feel these strong emotions of jealousy and anger. You are just friends, right?

But imagining him with another woman was a poison you didn't put too much thought into until this very moment. You should have been prepared, really.

All hopes have left your side.

You turn around and walk out the same way that you came in , ignoring his mother's questions and concerned gaze.

You want to be alone right now. Alone and away from everything that ever connected you with Han fucking Jisung.

***

He is a peculiar man, your best friend , loud yet calm , talented yet humble,his songs make more sense than his words ever could - but he intrigues you so much. It would take you a lot of time to figure Han Jisung out and you had only hoped to solve this puzzle before.. well , before he chooses to hold someone else's hand in the walk of life while you just watch from a far.

And now, you've finally run out of that borrowed time. Without even finishing half of the puzzle . The last tick of your time together has tocked.

That night, as you let the arms of grief and heartbreak pull you in , your cat(also called Snowflake) cuddles right beside you, staring at you as if it understood you.

Maybe it did. Because even you couldn't understand yourself anymore.

***

"Y/n, wake the fuck up! Come on,open the door." Your sister bangs on your door while simultaneously throwing words at you that were extremely inappropriate for an early morning conversation.

Annoying bitch. She's never cared to wake you up in the morning all your lives. Why is she changing her ways now?

You groan into your pillow, "Go away! I'll be out when I want to."

Your eyes barely find enough strength to keep themselves open. Your body aches and the bedsheet creases on your skin show evidence of a very good night's sleep in contrary to the misery you were subjected to just a few hours before that.

A heavy heart induces a good sleep , you conclude.

"I literally do not care about what you want ,y/n!" She yells against,her fist pounding against the door with more force now than from a while ago,"Come out. Right this instant."

Snowflake - who was chilling on the floor, playing with her toys - jumps on the bed ,pressing her fluffy body against your chest ,eyes glazed with fear.

"Fine. Fine. Can you stop yelling? You're scaring my baby." You reply, taking Snowflake into your arms as you run a soothing hand through her white fur.

Forcing yourself out of bed , you waddle towards the door.

"What do you want?" You unlock the door and with hooded eyes , yell at your sister, "Can you not be so fucking annoying this early in the morning?!"

Instant regret is what you feel the moment your sister steps aside, and you see the blurry figure of Han Jisung in front of your bedroom door.

Pure terror seizes you ,as your brain loses all its ability to form any response in that moment, “Hi, y/n. Can we please talk?" Jisung says, his mouth twisted into a sad smile and his puffy eyes looking at the floor.

Has he been crying?

He wears his favorite black hoodie and a pair of grey track pants along with his SpongeBob flip flops. The bird nest on his head looks even more disheveled today, even so you find your heart beat fasten seeing this domestic look on him.

No matter what, Han Jisung is pretty.

Really pretty.

And if you were given a coin everytime you acknowledged it, you'd be a millionaire by now.

"Aw, Jisung honey, don't ask. Just walk into her room. I'm sure she's glad to see you too." Your sister replies in your stead ,sending glares towards you as if to say 'You better listen to him.'

And you're too shocked to react when he politely brushes past you and walks inside your room, settling himself at the edge of the bed. You make sure to shove a middle finger up in front of your sister's face before following suit .

Jisung's enquiries start the moment you step inside.

"I was so worried, y/n. You left my house without saying anything to anyone. Your phone was off. I wanted to come here but mom said you looked upset and that I should wait until the morning. " he sucks in a deep breath , "Y/n, baby, what the fuck happened?"

There's that word again. That damn word which has the ability to set your whole body on fire even on a cold morning like this one.

You hate the affect he has on you. You hate the affect his words have on you.

"Nothing." You mumble.

Snowflake wiggles out of your arms, and towards him.

Betrayer.

"Don't even lie to me. I am not that stupid." Jisung argues as Snowflake settles in his lap, "Y/n, have I not made it clear that I will be here for you, no matter what?"

You want to laugh. He really thinks you trust him so much that you'd tell him everything going on with you.

He's delusional - you can't possibly tell the boy you are in love with that he is the boy you are in love with. It's completely mental.

"I'm not in the mood for this conversation right now. Go home, Sungie." You say , sitting down on the bed, as far away from his warm body as possible.

Jisung sighs, "Not happening. You can call the police for all I care but I'm not moving my ass before you tell me what happened."

Snowflake snuggles into his tummy, Jisung's fingers giving her soft belly and ear rubs.

So this is what your life has come down to - you are jealous of your cat who is getting more affection from your best friend slash crush (who is interested in someone else) than you ever did. Brilliant.

"I fucking love you , you dumb fuck. Why do you never notice! "

Jisung's lips widen into a smile. Of course Jisung knew. He has always known. Only a blind person would not notice your not very subtle efforts to win his heart and make him fall for you. Maybe it was you who was a dumb fuck because you never figured out how much Jisung loves you too even after being best friends for so long.

"You hear that, Snowflake? You heard what mommy said? She said she loves me! " Jisung's eye's glint with happiness as he picks up Snowflake, peppering her with smooches, "Your mommy loves me!"

You stare at him , confused beyond anything.

Jisung turns to you, his big signature grin fixated on his lips , " Is that why you ran away yesterday? Because God decided to punch you with the realization that you are in love with me?"

You scoff, "No, I left because you and Seo Changbin were talking about the other girl who you referred to as 'all you have '. I didn't want to know what else you refer to her as."

Jisung laughs , his shoulders vibrating with the action and his hands finding their way towards yours(Ha! How's that Snowflake!)

"You said that you heard me talk about some other girl so you must have heard some name too ,right?" He questions you , his fingers clutching your hand as if he were afraid of you running off again.

"Yeah, of course I did!" you clap back , "I heard the name - " Your heart drops as the crystal clear memory from yesterday flashes into your mind.

Jisung raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin adorning his face, "Yes? What's that?"

Oh.

"You had said my name." you whisper.

You divert your gaze from him and focus on your clasped hands and how perfect they look together - like the sole purpose of their creation was to hold each other.

Jisung shifts closer to you , your mattress dipping under his weight.

"Yes. I said your name." He tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears , "I said that I couldn't lose you because you're all that I have. And I didn't want my romantic feelings toward you to change anything between us."

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when he leans toward your face.

"So y/n, Will you please stop assuming things and be my girlfriend ?" Jisung asks.

You free your hand from his and slide them around his torso, hugging him.

"Yes, yes." you whisper, "A thousand times yes."

He engulfs you in the warmest hug possible, his hand rubbing your side comfortingly while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

"Sungie look, its a butterfly." You break away from the hug momentarily to point at the yellow and blue winged butterfly that settles down on top of Snowflake 's head.

Snowflake snarls at it , trying to chase it away with her paws while you and Jisung giggle. With arms secured around the other.

"Spring is on its way, isn't it?" He asks you ,"You know what it means?"

"More green vegetables?"

"Shut up ,y/n, you're so unromantic!"

You guys giggle a little more.

"No, but seriously ,what does it mean?" you ask , looking up at him from his chest.

Jisung presses a sweet, heartwarming kiss to your head , "New beginnings. Blossoming of New things."

Hs stares at you like he's trying to say something to you without using words and you like to be believe that you are able to get what he wants to say ; it's a new beginning for you guys.

Because you've finally crossed over this border line of friendship and stepped into the zone of no return, exiting the grey area you disliked so much.

And you know every second of it will be beautiful.

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skellebonez · 4 years ago

Note

What about prompt #3 with the Macaque/Tang pairing? That one art is getting me REALLY curious about what their potential dynamic would be like

I had an idea a long while ago about what could happen to Macaque after episode 9, and I have my Deadpool-seque immortality HC for him as well, so I’m combining those ideas and setting this between episodes 9-10 since we don’t know how long MK was training with Wukong after their fight. This is also very different from how I would write them if they met outside of this very specific circumstance.

Warning: vague descriptions of his injuries, descriptions of his healing abilities, mentions of emotional manipulation in canon (none to Tang himself so you don't have to worry about that here).

I’ve been waiting to get to know you from the moment I first saw you.

There were worse positions that Six-Eared Macaque could have landed himself in, especially after his fight with Sun Wukong’s successor, so all things considered... the immortal monkey was incredibly lucky at the moment.

He was in a very soft bed, firm enough to not give too much when he moved but laid on top of extra plush bedding now that he wasn’t bleeding as much as he had been it was much more comfortable. Half of his body was still coated in bandages, though they were more makeshift casts wrapped around items to keep his limbs still than anything else at this point.

Only his right arm and head had managed to make it out mostly unscathed, both fully healed by now. This meant he wasn’t completely unable to entertain himself, a thing called an “e-reader” held in his hand. And as the door to the house he was in opened he thought about his luck.

There was no way this man didn’t know who he was when he found Macaque. Even if the Kid managed to be taken in, apparently his tale hadn’t been completely lost. This house, what little he saw of it when dragged inside and through the halls, was filled with books and art of the Journey. Not everywhere, but just enough to be noticeable. And the recognition on the man’s face when he found him, laying in the rain soaked ground and covered in blood and mud and looking like death itself was instantaneous.

And yet, despite that... and despite the pictures of the Monkey Kid himself he saw on the walls...

“Macaque, you’re awake,” the man spoke, voice still soft and tentative but with a layer of genuine relief and excitement under it. His name was Tang. “I hope you’re feeling as well as you could be.”

Macaque took note of the fact that he didn’t say “better” or just “well” as he lowered the e-reader, bring pulled from the genre known as science-fiction. “As well as he could be”. He seemed mindful of both his condition and his abilities at all times.

“I suppose you could say that,” He said evenly, watching as Tang prepared some kind of medicine for him. He never bothered asking what it was, just some kind of pills and ointment that numbed him enough to make the pain manageable. “I take it nothing happened today.”

It felt odd. Talking like this. He hadn’t just talked to someone in centuries, not really. But what was there to lie about here? Tang knew that he had manipulated the Kid, he said as much to him when he woke. Tang knew of his history, knew who he was and was apparently angry that he hadn’t elaborated on the fact he could have been the same Macaque from the story and not another one (given the story greatly exaggerated his death... or, well, exaggerated that he had stayed dead).

Tang knew he was evil. Knew that he hurt someone he cared about. Knew that he would have been fine eventually if he left him outside, if in a great deal more pain. So why take him in? Why wash his wounds? Why dress them? Why feed him and give him things to entertain him through his bedridden days? Why talk to him, why ask him about the accuracy of the stories?

He was at first annoyed by all his questions but after a day he had given in and just talked and... and he never realized how much he missed just talking to someone. But he still didn’t know why.

He never built up anything to ask. Tang never explained. It lingered between them like a soft breeze, always there and threatening to grow strong. But not causing any disturbance, not yet.

“No, but there are rumors about something going on with the Demon Bull King...” Tang trailed off, genuine worry peppering his tone. It wasn’t as if Macaque was particularly interested or as if he could actually do anything with the state of his healing as it was... but something about that tone made something sink in his chest and he didn’t like that.

Tang was... different, from most humans he had met. Not entirely unique, he wasn’t that different from others, but still. It had been a long time since he met someone who would talk back to him and tell him to “shut up and let me help you”. Reprimand him, him, for trying to leave the bed before his bones reset. Who took his sass with an unbelieving raised eyebrow and a “yes, I totally buy that” and even had the gall to toss food like pieces of candy into his open mouth when Macaque went on an angry rant just because he could. He knew all about him already and he didn’t take any of his bullshit.

He hated to admit it... but he didn’t hate this human. Tang. He didn’t hate Tang.

Neither said anything as Tang handed him the pills, pain killers he called them, and water once Macaque put them in his mouth. Neither said anything as Tang tested the spots on his arms and legs where there were breaks, his ribs long since beating them both to healing, testing to see exactly where anything needed to be reset or rewrapped due to Macaque’s movements in his sleep.

It had been a long week and a half... Macaque almost didn’t want them to heal.

Healing meant he would have to...

“At the rate you’re going,” Tang started with a mirthful laugh, looking equal parts happy and sad. “You’ll be out of here by the end of the week.

Macaque said nothing, setting aside his water and scowling for a moment. He mulled the thought he just had in over in his mind before deciding that... if Tang had let him stay this long... he may as well say it. It wasn’t like it would change anything except whether or not he was happy when he left.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Tang’s head shot up from where he was inspecting his arm, face one of shock and confusion and... if Macaque looked deep enough into his eyes, he could swear he saw something akin to hope that he was being serious.

So he took a chance.

He lifted his good arm and placed his hand on the back of Tang’s head, pulling him closer slowly as he waited for him to fight back or say something. But Tang didn’t. He let the demon pull him closer and closer until his nose touched Macaque’s and Macaque stopped... and Tang moved forward and pressed their lips together.

Macaque knew then and there that he had made a mistake and both of them would hurt when he left the second a fire lit in his chest and his eyes closed and the kiss deepened.

The next day he finally asked Tang why he had given him a chance.

"I’ve been waiting to get to know you from the moment I first saw you."

(Tang was right. Macaque was ready to leave by the end of the week. So he did, in the midst of the chaos of the Demon Bull King taking everything over. Tang hadn’t come back one day and he watched the news from the house well outside the city. He stayed around outside, just long enough to watch Tang come home, watch him find an empty made bed, watched him grab the e-reader he had given Macaque and slam it into the wall and yell about how stupid he had had been to fall for the demon monkey. How he should have known he would leave.

Macaque left before he allowed himself to actually feel regret and comfort the man who had taken him in and helped him and made him feel something more than hatred and the rush of victory for the first time in centuries.

They both mourned a relationship they never had.

And maybe one day Tang came home to sweets and other gifts after the Lunar New Year Festival.

And maybe one day a dark furred monkey mistaken for Sun Wukong helped a certain Monkie Kid from the shadows because he remembered the sad look his father figure held when he watched him talk about him being hurt.

Maybe one day Macaque returned, angry and confused due to plans unable to be finished as he time after time remembered the human who helped him heal in more ways than physically over 2 weeks and that healing, while not enough to change him then, had lead to him second guessing his decisions for the months to come.

Maybe Macaque would ask for a second chance, gruff and hating every moment that he had to be nice to anyone else who wasn't Tang. But begrudgingly trying. For Tang and no one else.

Maybe.

Or maybe not.

Who am I to tell.)

#maybe they're doomed and maybe they're not #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #ship fic #six eared macaque #tang #shadownoodles #tintedlenses #i kinda started using the second as a ship name before remembering the former was suggested #prompt fill #this is hurt / little teeny comfort at the end

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saphie3243 · 4 years ago

Text

First Solstice

For my Secret Snowflake @tomtenadia

Nesta spends her first Solstice sober in Illyria, unable to bring herself to brave the inner circle celebration for a second year in a row.

Word Count: 5500+

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297182

There was something soothing about a room being so crowded it became hard to breathe. Better still when the music was so loud you can’t hear yourself think. Best when bodies are grinding, booze is flowing, and something to smoke is being passed around. Everyone was here for the same reason, everyone wanted a distraction. Amren had made several comments that she couldn’t believe Nesta got males to go home with her when she smelled like sweat and a distillery. She apparently didn’t understand that everyone smelled the same at places like this.

The band was better than usual. The music was… actually good. Maybe that’s why the bar was extra packed today. Or maybe it was because Solstice was tomorrow and no one wanted to think about all the ways they’ve disappointed their families this year.

Disappointing. The male she dragged into the bathroom was just that. He wasn’t even worth the time she wasted not getting another bottle of wine. She didn’t even let him finish before booting him out and stumbling back to her favorite stool. The bartender knows her by now and has mulled wine waiting.

It’s warm and more mulled than wine. She nodded to him. They know how to take care of her here, she certainly spends enough. Leo is decent enough to warn her off of the less than savory types that might be interested in more than even she was willing to give. She sighs back into the glass. Why she felt the need to judge herself when tomorrow she was going to get 5 times over from Feyre and insipid little family was why she needed another glass.

She turned around in her stool, facing back out, watching the crowd move in a formless mass. This band had changed over. The new one wasn’t nearly as good. Several months haunting bars and clubs to all hours in the morning had provided Nesta a proper sampling of Velaris’ bands, and, in her mind, gave her a liberty to criticize as she saw fit. This crater-faced crooner was pitchy and couldn’t move a room if he winnowed them. That earlier one had a woman out front. She was unusual for a Fae. She was beautiful, yes, but she wasn’t the wispy waif most fae women were. She was tall and built, covered in a layer of extra fat that filled out wonderful curves and jiggled when she danced. But that wasn’t what made her remarkable. Her voice took your heart by the ears and pulled you into the emotion she wanted you to feel.

“Weird compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“Lor-Cass said you weren’t going home this year,” Emerie placed the breeches she was folding into a pile of identical wares.

“I didn’t go home last year, either,” Nesta swished the black liquid in her cup as she reviewed the ledgers. Last Solstice only served to remind Nesta how much of a stranger she was to her own family, to Feyre’s new one. She would never be able to call that debacle “going home.” This year, however, she could avoid Velaris. Being banned from the city meant Feyre no longer had the ability to force her into attending farcical family meals, no matter how pissy she was about it.

She closed the books with a sigh and placed them back into a drawer. “Numbers look good.”

Emerie moved her pile of pants over to their shelf. “Thanks for looking over them, I haven’t had anyone to check my math since dad.” Nesta nodded and pulled out the books and notepads Emerie kept hidden with her accounting ledgers.

She leafed through to the furthest marked page. “You didn’t get much further last night,” she commented.

“Ah, no time, had to process a big shipment.”

“It’s fine,” Nesta muttered. 5 words underlined. Not the most, not the least. She reviewed the best-guess at the words definition in Emerie’s notebook. Most were correct. She added pronunciation guides next to some. “Macabre means bloody, gruesome.”

“Why is there an R in it?”

“Because the gods are cruel.” She heard Emerie’s answering laugh. “You’re doing well though. We can probably move on to actually writing.” She didn’t really think it would be that hard for Emerie to learn to read and write. She ran this business - she was clearly whip-smart, just uneducated. It could easily be remedied.

“In the meantime, can you answer the orders?”

This little arrangement worked out nicely. Nesta lended her books and made her literate, meanwhile she would help out with store correspondence and would review the books. Reviewing the books was less about checking Emerie’s math - that she had a natural understanding for - and more about making sure each transaction had sufficient notes.

She took another sip from her night-black liquid. The best part of Illyria, in her mind, was this coffee thing. It didn’t grow locally, needing a warmer climate for the source plant to thrive, but it had become a staple in the tribes as a way to keep troops moving with minimal sleep. Hot and bitter, it really shouldn’t have been as pleasant to drink as it was, but she found herself unable to stop.

“When does Lo- Cass head down south?”

“He should be meeting everyone Solstice morning and be back the day after.”

“What are you going to do?”

Stare at the liquor bottles he filled with water to tease me. Drink my weight in coffee and stand outside Devlon’s house at 2 am sending waves of power over the door to fuck with him until some asshole walks by and works up the balls to ask me back to their place - or die of exposure. Whatever’s first.

“Not sure, why?”

“Would you… I don’t know… want to spend tomorrow with… me?” Emerie had approached the table, tapping her fingers with each phrase. Nesta looked her up and down. If it was anyone else, she would have thought Cassian put her up to it. But she was also alone for the holidays, and Nesta knew that was probably a much bigger deal for the Illyrian than it was for her. She had mentioned once that she didn’t have many people since her father died. Adding in that Emerie didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do... If she was asking, it was because she wanted to spend this day with Nesta.

She smiled at her friend, “Come over whenever.”

___

Dinner was hot and ready when she came in. Cassian always made sure that their meals were piping. His own way of combating the awful wet cold of Illyria. She had to wonder if part of it also had to do with keeping the fires low in the house.

Nesta kicked off her boots by the door and carried them to the fireplace. She set them down next to Cassian’s - the secret to warm feet, he’d said. Their coat rack was also by the fireplace for similar reasons. She gently felt the socks left hanging there- warm, thank the Wall. She pulled off her damp knits and left them in a pile on the floor while pulled on the fresh clothes. They went up to hang immediately after.

“Do you need to take every peg? Emerie’s store is only 5 minutes away,” Cassian called from across the house. He was standing in the kitchen with two bowls of stew.

“Five minutes flying, 25 walking,” she turned to him. “Through a foot and a half of snow.”

She pointed to the bottom of her dress and the crust of ice that had formed there. He grimaced.

“I would have picked you up if you asked.”

“Unnecessary.” She pulled the dress over her head and left it to hang on the coat rack. After months of living together, they had long overcome the initial discomfort with mild nudity. Not that she was anywhere near naked. She still had the chemise that ended at her knees, her wool sleeves, her knitted belly warmer, and a double layer of wool hose. She was more covered than either Amren or Morrigan on any given day. Finally in only dry clothes, she marched over the kitchen and took the bowl from Cassian.

Four months of living with Cassian in Illyria was… surprisingly easy. The mountains were peaceful, simple. The way of life here is more similar to the human society she grew up with than the magical speed of Velaris. Emerie was a pleasant discovery. She still wanted a drink, desperately, but the biting cold had a similar numbing effect if you stood out in it long enough. The worst part was being dragged out of bed at dawn for “training”. Though her training was less about learning to fight herself and more about standing around the training rink terrifying males while Cass tried to teach little girls to throw a punch.

Coincidently she hadn’t gotten laid in 4 months either.

“As much as I love seeing you in your underwear, you do have very nice, very warm leathers.”

“Bite me,” she said as she shoveled food in her mouth. She had made it this long avoiding putting those damn things on. She wasn’t going to cave now. No matter how much imagining the fur lining made her whimper.

He smiled down at her, making a point of flashing his teeth. “Gladly.” Whatever mischief was running through his thoughts cleaned itself up as he changed subjects. He was the other surprise. The animosity between them was turned down to a polite simmer. Oh they still bickered, and they flirted. They never said it, and God willing never would, but any edges of disgust in their banter had long been smoothed by fondness. “Az will be picking me up at 7 tomorrow. If you change your mind about coming with me, be ready to go then.”

“I won’t,” she answered, choosing not to tell him that she would be spending the day with Emerie.

Surprisingly, he didn’t push.

“Oh good, you’re up. I’m making breakfast, if you want.”

Nesta woke up in a bed that was far too clean to be her own. Her head ached, her throat was dry, and she was naked. She sat up and took in her surroundings. This room was not hers. She had less furniture and more piles of shit everywhere. She was trying to figure out how she got there when the door opened and a woman came wandering in.

Nesta recognized her as soon as she spoke and finally recalled the night prior. She was the singer for that band. They chatted each other up at the bar for hours, getting progressively drunker. By the time the bar closed they stumbled home - going to hers because it was closer. They jumped each other as soon as the door closed. It was a new experience for Nesta, being with a woman. And it was good. The singer sounded as lovely when she came as she did when she belted.

Staying for breakfast would be nice. Something real in her stomach to soak up the alcohol was very needed. And if she played it right, there was a chance for as lovely a morning as there was a night.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Nesta waited until her partner had left the room before she pulled on her dress and snuck out the window.

Lovely wasn’t what she deserved.

___

No training didn’t mean that Nesta didn’t wake up at first light. It just meant she didn’t need to get dressed. Part of the initial torture of first arrival was learning that Cass put her in an east facing room with larg windows on the walls - and refused to let her have curtains. Privacy apparently wasn’t as important as making sure she didn’t have oversleeping as an excuse.

She swore at the sun, as she did every morning, and felt around in the bed next to her. Before getting out from under the covers, she pulled on her fluffy robe. This little trick she learned back in the hut. Sleep with the clothes you’re going to wear if you want them to be warm in the morning.

She trudged out to the main room and kitchen, beginning the process of preparing breakfast. Another rule of the house, if you are up first, you cook first. Same for dinner and coming home. Lunch they were on their own. There was a housemaid when she first arrived, but… she didn’t last long. She found the tea kettle and set about making hot water while she poured oats into bowls. From their icebox - a box they just left sealed outside to let winter keep cold - she pulled out a package of cured bacon. The kettle whistled, and she used the entire batch to steep the coffee. The next round of water was for the oatmeal.

The shadows between the windows grew and darkened. Before he even stepped out, Nesta greeted him.

“I’m making coffee. Get a cup if you want some.”

“Thank you. I’ll take bacon, too, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s Cass’s money,” she answered, adding three more pieces to the griddle.

Azriel was the only one from Velaris that visited with any sort of regularity, mostly due to how closely he needed to work with Cassian. He would come up about once a week for updates or meetings or to winnow Cass somewhere. He had begun to make a habit out of arriving early to chat with Nesta. Sometimes he just came up to hang out with them. He probably only came up to spend time with Cassian, but since she was usually around, they included her.

No one else from the Inner Circle bothered to visit. Rhysand and Feyre came up once, but that… did not end well. Elain felt too guilty to come see the sister whose banishment she had consented to. Morrigan wasn’t even on the island, so it wasn’t a surprise she didn’t stop by. And Amren… Amren was keeping her vow to not speak to Nesta until she apologised to Morrigan. Something Nesta still didn’t think she needed to do.

Morrigan spent 4 nights a week at a gay bar. How the fuck was Nesta supposed to know she wasn’t out?

“Elain asked me to bring this,” he conjured a set of books and hand-knitted socks into existence, placing both onto the table while pouring himself a cup. The books were tied together with ribbons and decorated with small bows, clearly meant to be her Solstice present. The socks - well, Elain had taken up knitting sometime in the last year and had Azriel deliver a pair every time he visited.

“Why didn’t she just ask Cassian to bring it back with him?” Nesta scooped some brown sugar into her oatmeal.

The ever so slight blush on his cheeks told her what his answer did not. “She wanted to make sure you had a present for the holiday.”

“Because she knows how much I care about holidays,” and it had nothing at all to do with you leaving from her room this morning and it seeming convenient at the time. They wanted to be discrete, and Nesta accepted that - no matter how bad they were at hiding it. She poured in the hot water into her breakfast and stirred. “Any messages with that present?”

“The bacon looks done.”

“Azriel.”

He sighed. “No.”

Nesta tightened her jaw and moved the bacon from the stove to a plate, allowing him to have a piece. She wasn’t sure if she was more pissed that he didn’t have a message or that she was still hoping he would. Either way she was going to play it off. “I’m surprised they didn’t have you hock me about going, too.”

Az cocked his head. “Cass made it pretty clear you weren’t ready for that.” She snapped up at him.

“And what was his barometer for knowing if I was ready?” She sneered.

But Az only shrugged, well accustomed to playing referee for Cassian and Nesta by now. “You not wanting to go.”

Nesta was still thinking about Azriel’s answer by the time Emerie came over. She couldn’t decide if Cassian was being a presumptive ass or if he was being genuinely considerate. He had a habit of being both interchangeably. Like when he finally made his way to the kitchen, fully dressed and demanding breakfast. He added in some last minute jabs about coming back early if she got lonely as Az winnowed away with him. And even through the mocking tone, the message was clear. “If you don’t want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll come back.”

He still didn’t know she was spending today with Emerie then.

“Do you not own any decorations or do you just not like them?” she asked, looking around the room.

“What decorations?” Nesta strained in her thoughts, there was a lot of extra shit in Feyre’s living room last year…

“Solstice decorations.You know, candles, holly, garlands,” Emerie explained. It sounded like what Feyre had up - and what most of Velaris had up - but in all honesty she was not sober enough last year to make the connection that it was for the holiday and wasn’t just some seasonal nonsense. Emerie squinted at her and placed a wrapped box on the table. Presents!

Fuck. That’s right. Fae exchange presents on the Solstice.

“I honestly don’t know.”

Emerie squinted at her. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Nesta shrugged. “Humans don’t have holidays.” At most they had festivals, but they were distinctly not holidays, just an excuse to drink and dance with as many strangers as possible. The closest thing they had to a formal holiday was Treaty Day, and even that was not the intimate affair this seemed to be. She hadn’t even heard of a Solstice dinner until Feyre asked her to go last year.

“How do you not have holidays?” she asked.

“Holidays used to be very dangerous days to be human.” There were plenty of horror-stories around the suffering of human slaves on religious days. Whether they were being traded as gifts or killed as sacrifices... even if the stories were exaggerations, it led to whole-sale rejection of everything religious by human society.

“So you know nothing about solstice?” Emerie placed a hand on her hip.

“It is the longest night of the year.”

Emerie made it her mission to instruct Nesta on the finer points of an Illyrian solstice. First and foremost, every 5 years it was the last day of the Blood Rite. The theme of doing battle still continued in the other years, most tribes had hunts or tournaments for the men to mark the occasion. Women were expected to work the day to prepare for the night. The night of the Solstice was the only true peace Illyria ever saw. Solstice nights were for feasting, music, and dancing. Fighting after dark was strictly forbidden. Gifts were expected between families, friends, and especially rivals. It symbolized an acceptance that though Illyrians may compete with one another, they were still members of one army.

“Does this tribe have a tournament?” Nesta asked. Cassian hadn’t mentioned anything about it, or a feast afterwards, but he might not have thought her interested. Or ready, she thought ruefully.

“Devlon hosts a melee tournament. Puts all the entrants in the ring together and waits to see who comes out. The large feast at the end is prepared by entrant’s families,” Nesta knew she meant women in those families, “For the entrants and their families. Dad didn’t enter, so we would just watch the tournament and then spend the night at home.”

“Do you want to watch the tournament this year?”

“Yeah but you’re still in your pajamas,” Emerie laughed.

She watched by the door as Nesta dressed in her warmest clothes. Watching men fight on her day off wasn’t exactly Nesta’s idea of a good time. But Emerie wanted to go. And Cassian had tried to make the decision of whether or not she should go by not telling her about it, so that in and of itself made her want to go. Because neither were entering, and certainly neither were cooking, they wouldn’t be able to attend the feast after. But that’s just as well. A night back at the house with hot drinks and Cassian’s pantry seemed just fine to both of them.

The tournament took place in the training rings. Normally the 5 or so rings were roped off from one another, allowing different ages and skill levels to train separately. But today Devlon had taken down the separators, providing an obnoxiously large space for his melee. But it was needed. It seemed every one of Devlon’s soldiers signed up for the tournament. About 200 competitors, ranging from small boys to grown men. There were even some father-son pairs helping each other warm up in the ring.

Outside the rings, there was yet another crowd of voyeurs. Women and girls taking breaks from their preparations to watch, the merchant families - like Emerie’s, and the men too old and frail to compete anymore. Standing at the head of it all was Devlon, a poor-man’s Cassian. He caught wind of them walking up and immediately flared at the sight of Nesta before turning back to the tournament. Being a witch in Illyria had certain perks. Devlon’s apprehension being only part of it. The crowd parting for them, allowing them to stand at his side and have the best view, was another.

“Soldiers!” Devlon called as he stepped forward. All 200 men turned to him at attention, well trained by now. “You know the rules. No siphons, no weapons, no flying, no killing. You fall, you’re out. You yield, you’re out. You get knocked out of the ring, you’re out. The last men standing at sunset wins.” He raised his arm in the air, making it visible to all. He took one last look around the ring, took a breath, and dropped his arm and stepped back as he bellowed, “Lay on!”

The chaos was immediate. One of the younger kids, there without a father to hold them up, fell immediately. The rest were at each other's throats, kicking, punching, wrestling. Part of her was worried that the battle-royale would be too similar to the war. But without the clang of steel and the geysers of blood, she found this was more similar to the crowded dance halls in Velaris. Devlon, now standing next to the girls, kept his eyes on the mock-battle as he spoke. “I thought you’d be with Cassian today.”

“And miss a battle royale? Honestly Devlon, do you know me at all?” She smiled at him, relishing how he flinched at her grin. “Can’t help but notice none of the girls are competing.”

His jaw tightened. “The Solstice melee is not training. It’s tradition.”

“Now you said the same thing about the girls training, too, did you not?” Nesta had no interest in ever learning how to fight herself, and didn’t really care if girls trained or not. But there was a difference between choosing not to do something and not being allowed to do something.

“If Lord Cassian wants to insert his views here as well, he should be here to do it himself.” The harsh words were undercut by the bead of sweat racing down his cheek. He wasn’t wrong. That was part of the reason Cass was stationed up here full time. Changing the rules around women required full time intervention. In Nesta’s mind, it also required more input from the women, but that was a discussion for another time.

“Maybe next year,” Nesta yawned. She watched the battle progress. After the initial early eliminations, they had plateaued into a minor stalemate. Some alliances also became clear. Groups of friends or families fighting together, watching each other’s back, catching each other before they fell. She didn’t cheer as the crowd or Emerie did. Rather, her and Devlon seemed to be the only calm people there.

Then… something odd happened. One of the teenage boys fell suddenly. He didn’t seem to get hit particularly hard, for one. And secondly, he didn’t get back up. Both Devlon and Nesta leaned forward, looking closer. She saw it first, sniffed it out. Blood. The boy had been hit in the side and was bleeding from the wound.

“Devlon,” she said very carefully.

“I know, I didn’t see who did it.”

“We need to get him out.”

“His friends will get him out.”

She held her breath, watching. No one came. She hadn’t been watching him particularly, but she didn’t remember him teaming up like the others. The way they walked around him… “He doesn’t have friends,” she snarled. Even Emerie gulped as Nesta’s anger stirred the well of her power. Cass told her stories. Back when the shakes and cold sweats were unbearable, he stayed up with her and told stories, trying to distract her through it. Trading one dark truth for another. She told him about watching her mother die, he told her that he was alone for years until Rhys. A bastard that was left to fend for himself, potentially to die if he wasn’t strong enough. From the way they walked over this kid, he was the same. She needed to get him out of there. He was bleeding out and no one was doing a damn thing about it.

“We cannot interfere with the melee,” Devlon said, “it’s against the rules.”

“So is weapons, but someone clearly has a knife,” she spat. Devlon didn’t say anything to that. He just kept scanning the make-shift battlefield, searching. “There!” he shouted, and his green siphon flashed. Another teenager was plucked into the air by his wings. He kicked and thrashed, a small knife in his fist. Devlon pulled the kid to him, releasing his magic’s grip and decking as asshole as he got in range. The boy went down with just that one hit.

But the first boy was still out there. He was still bleeding out. Alone in a crowd. He was going to die. He was going to die in this little mock battle where killing was strictly forbidden. Was this why Cassian didn’t tell her about it? Did he have holidays like this? Did older boys gang up on him and try to kill him without anyone noticing? Was he left alone to bleed on his own?

“Nesta!”

Emerie’s voice was farther away than it should have been, and muffled by a crowd of idiots fighting with one another. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got here, but Nesta was standing over the fallen boy. As they registered her presence, one by one the soldiers stopped. “The witch.” “It’s the witch.” “Why is the witch here?” She ignored them all, kneeling down to the injured. He was pale and grimacing, having lost a lot of blood - still losing it, actually. The knife had gotten him just below the ribs, catching who knows which organs. Without another word she picked him up, allowing his head to rest against his shoulder and his body to rest on her torso.

She turned back to Emerie and Devlon, one watching with concern, the other pissed as hell. She stepped towards them, slowly, carefully. She didn’t want to jostle the kid’s injuries more than necessary. No one came near her as she walked out of the ring. At first she thought it was the same as the audience, that they were simply afraid of the witch. But a glance around gave her a different answer.

Her power extended around her in a sphere, creating barriers of ethereal flowing silver. The grass around her withered and died, and no man here wanted to see what would happen if they touched the walls of silver flames. When she got to the edge of the ring, the rope touched her power and rotted to nothing. She didn’t know how this boy still lived in her arms, but he was still breathing- barely. She spoke to both Devlon and Emerie.

“He needs a healer.”

“I’ll find Marta and have her meet you at the house.”

Nesta nodded to her friend and turned to walk the familiar path to Cassian’s house, her power dying down as she crossed the threshold.

Marta arrived at the same time she did. They set the kid down on the kitchen table as the old woman got to work. The boy did get stabbed, but only in the liver. It took longer than Nesta would have thought, certainly longer than the battlefield-healing she remembered from the war, but Marta was able to stabilize him and stitch him up. She left them with instructions to make sure the boy didn’t get infected or pop a stitch in the night.

“Not how you planned to spend the Solstice, I’m guessing?” Nesta asked.

Emerie tilted her head, “No but seeing every warrior in the village piss himself is worth it.” She slumped down on the couch. “We have a moment, want to open your present?” she gestured to the box on the table.

“Y-yeah, just let me grab yours.” Nesta ran back to her room. She grabbed the stack of books Elain bought her, still wrapped from this morning. Definitely a faux paus, but she would never know.

Nesta came back out with the present and set it in front of Emerie. “Happy Solstice.” The look of awe and excitement was worth it. As Emerie began to untie the books, Nesta began to unwrap her present. Under the paper was a long, thin box. She unlidded it to find a set of leather and wood hair pins - Illyrian style hair pins, made to not get cold in winter.

“Thank you,” she said, still admiring the etching on the leather thong.

“I’d thank you but, I think mine goes to Elain.”

“What?” Nesta whipped her head up to see the first book open on the table and Emerie holding a hand written note. She was clearly reading it but let Nesta snatch it from her anyway.

“So should I let you borrow the books or-”

“Shush.” Emerie laughed and paged through the first novel as Nesta read the note.

Dear Nesta,

I know you are still upset with me, and with Feyre, for sending you away. And you are right to be upset. You were there for me, after the Cauldron and after Grayson. You held our family together after Feyre left. And when you needed us, needed me, I didn’t know how to help.

I don’t know if it is the power or just my own knowledge of you, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew that if I tried to help, I would only fail. And that is not an excuse. Fear of failure does not make not trying ok, but it is what I did. And I am sorry.

I know putting this in a letter hidden in a book is still the coward’s way, but I don’t think I could face you if I didn’t apologize first. I hope to have Azriel take me for a visit after the Solstice if you would have me.

Your sister,

Elain

___

They stayed up most of the night, playing cards, reading, and watching over the boy. Nesta had planned to stay up the full night, but using her power that day and waking up at 6 am had taken its toll. She found herself drowsing into her cards. Around 3am, Emerie sent Nesta to bed, agreeing to stay up and keep watch. Nesta’s head barely hit the pillow before she was out.

She woke in darkness. Not odd for her. Waking up in the middle night was fairly common. But when she looked to her window, she saw that it was not night. There was sunlight shining behind the makeshift curtain someone had thrown over her window. She pushed herself up. Who?

“You’re up.”

She turned her attention to the chair on the other side of her bed. Cassian sat there, watching over her with an indecipherable expression. She sat up.

“When did you get home?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was down and knotted, unusual for him. There were bags under his eyes. “Last night, before dawn. Az brought me back,” he brought his hands together and looked at her. “Emerie told me what happened. You lost control again.”

“How’s the boy?”

“Petros is fine. I moved him to my room to sleep off the rest of the potion the healer gave him.”

“That’s good.”

“No, you couldn’t,” his hands gently reached out and lifted her face to look at him. “Why couldn’t you?”

Cassian moved to the bed, sitting next to Nesta. “You lost control for him.”

“I-I couldn’t just let him bleed out,” she explained, staring at a spot on the bedspread.

Because he reminded me of you. She didn’t know if she said the words out loud or not. But Cassian’s answering kiss was so soft, so gentle, so sweet, she didn’t care. She responded to his kiss in kind, her hand cupping his face, finally feeling those perfectly chiselled cheekbones. His tongue passed over her lower lip and she opened for him, inviting him deeper. She met his tongue with her own and wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him closer. He grinned through the kiss, gently placed his hand on her shoulders, and pushed her back down on the bed.

It was the first time Nesta stayed for breakfast after.

___________

Tagging potential readers:

@perseusannabeth

#secret snowflake #Nesta Archeron #Nessian #Cassian #post Acowar #post acofas #elain archeron #emerie #Nesta and Emerie will be besties if it kills me #Nesta and Cassian adopt that kid.#Potato-burp is ask-able tumblr #so that one is in the exchange.#but my writing goes here so here we are #never posted fic directly to tumblr before.#weird

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snelbz · 4 years ago

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Lost Time {18}

Summary: It’s been four years since Azriel ran away from Velaris and left behind everyone he ever loved — including the girl left standing at the altar. Now, he’s back home, but can he try and pick up the broken pieces of his life, or has there been too much lost time?

@snelbz / @tacmc collab

Lost Time Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

Azriel sat in silence in Cassian’s living room, both he and Rhysand staring at him, unblinking. Azriel was doing nothing, just letting them take in the information as he slowly sipped his steaming cup of black coffee.

It was a pleasant morning, sunny and cloud-free, warm. Azriel was exhausted, though. He hadn’t slept a wink. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was Ianthe and the texts she had sent, the words haunting him.

She was in town.

In his hometown.

And she wasn’t leaving him alone.

After he woke up that morning, he got Novan ready to go and brought him over to Cassian’s after Elain had left for work.

After his second cup of coffee, he had told his brothers the entire story of Ianthe, the parts they hadn’t already known, then confessed about her texts, and the fact that Elain knew absolutely nothing about it.

Which he both felt equally confident and guilty about.

“So, let me get this straight,” Cassian said, at last. “Your ex, who is a model, and a little bit of a stalker, is in town, and hasn’t stopped texting you since last night…and you haven’t mentioned any of this to Elain. Your wife.”

Azriel nodded, watching as Novan chased the kitten up the stairs.

“And this Ianthe also got into it with you when you were in New York getting your stuff,” Rhysand followed. “Which Elain also doesn’t know about.”

Azriel gave them both an exasperated, pointed look. “Obviously you have all the facts, alright? Now, what do I do? Elain’s pregnant, tired, and sick. I don’t want to tell her about it if it’s nothing, she has enough going on, but I can never tell with Ianthe, I never know what she’ll do. She’s not the type that exactly takes no for an answer.”

“Clearly,” Cassian muttered, reaching for his coffee, and Azriel glowered.

“No, no,” Rhys said, stopping Az from giving Cassian a smartass remark. “That’s his thinking voice.”

Azriel glanced at Rhys and then at Cass and found him still holding his coffee cup. They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound Novan’s feet chasing the small ball of fur through the house.

“Just the texts and calls so far?” He finally asked, looking up at Az. He nodded in confirmation. Cassian shrugged. “I can’t do anything until she makes a physical unwanted advance on you or Elain in Velaris. And back in New York, did anything…happen? Did you make her a promise or anything?”

“Like, the last time I saw her?” Az asked. “Or before that?”

He had to admit, Azriel didn’t like the way Cassian’s eyebrows rose at that question. “Let’s start with last time and then explain before that.” With a sigh, Azriel ran through that last night one more time, remembering the rage in Ianthe’s bright eyes well. “Okay,” Cass continued. “Now…before that?”

Azriel sighed and hung his head. “I may have told her on a few, drunk occasions that I thought marriage was a sham and that with enough persuasion, I’d …” He groaned and dragged his hands down his face.”I’d always be down for a quick ride.”

Both of his brothers stared at him, and then Cassian asked, quietly for the sake of little ears, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Azriel set down his mug before rubbing his temples. “Look, marriage wasn’t really my favorite topic throughout the years, alright? So, excuse me if in my miserable drunken state that I said bitter shit I didn’t mean.”

“That miserable shit is going to be what gets you in trouble,” Cassian said, staring his younger brother down. “You need to talk to Elain.”

Azriel scoffed. “And tell her that? No, I don’t think so.”

“Az,” Rhysand began, shaking his head, slowly. “I get the drunken shit, okay? But, that’s going to be what she uses to get her way.”

“I know, I know,” Azriel groaned.

“Ianthe seems like a piece of work,” Cassian said, leaning back and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

A little head peeked over the railing of the banister and they heard “Uncle Cass?”

They all glanced up as Cassian asked “Yeah, buddy?”

“How do I get power rangers on the tv?”

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, jogging up the stairs.

Azriel sighed and took a drink of his coffee. “I need something stronger than this.”

“Apparently you don’t,” Rhys mumbled, taking a sip of his own. He set the mug back on the side table beside him. “Especially if you make stupid, fucking promises when you’re drunk.”

Az glowered at him, not saying anything, just throwing his brother a vulgar gesture. He finally sighed and said, “Things were pretty bad for me for a while. Didn’t really feel anything. Just took pictures and lived my life. It’s probably why my shots were so good.” He laughed, but Rhysand could tell there was no humor in the sound. “I could only see and feel emotion through my camera lens. I was numb to my own, so I…captured other people’s. And just continued to ignore my own.”

It took Rhysand a moment to say anything else, but when he did, his voice was soft. “I get it. Try not to worry about it, yeah? Just…talk to Elain when she gets home so that she’s aware, and prepared, but don’t stress out about it until something happens. And hopefully nothing will happen.”

Azriel nibbled on his lip for a second before nodding. “No, yeah, you’re right.”

And yet, he felt a heavy sense of dread in the pit of his stomach as each word left his mouth.

* * * * * *

Working the day after she got married wasn't exactly how Elain had planned things, but things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan for most of her life.

Not that she was complaining, she loved her complicated life and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

She smiled at the couple who’d brought a family heirloom in, an old dresser that belonged to his grandmother. She hesitated before saying, “I can handle the refurbishment, but I’ll let you know now, my turn around is a little slower than it used to be.” She tucked a hand under her small bump and explained, “I’m a few days shy of three months pregnant, and my husband is looking for a well-ventilated workshop for me-.”

“It’s no rush,” the woman - Claire, she’d written on her order form - smiled, and looked up at her husband. “It’s actually for our baby’s nursery. I’m fourteen weeks.”

Elain’s smile was genuine as she said, “Congratulations! Okay, that gives me a little bit of time.”

After finishing up with the sweet couple and with some help, Elain had moved the dresser by the door to have Az load up and take home after work. Leaning against her desk, Elain stared at her reflection in one of the elegant full length mirrors that she’d salvaged from an old manor house and wrapped a hand under her belly again. She dialed Nesta’s number and waited as it rang.

“Hello?” Nesta asked.

“Do twins run in our family?” Elain asked, not even replying to her sister’s greeting.

“I- What?”

“Do we have the twin gene?” She asked again. “It’s not like we can trace Az back, so do you know if we have twins anywhere in our family?”

The other line was quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “Why?”

“Because I just had a customer who’s fourteen weeks pregnant, which is only a couple weeks farther than me, and I look drastically bigger than her.”

Nesta was quiet for a minute, then she said, “After Miryam and I were joking about it, I decided to do some digging into our family history. It turns out that Mom’s brothers are twins. They live down south, if I remember right. They and Mom never got along. I think the last time we saw them, you were just a baby-.”

“Nesta,” Elain interrupted, recalling she and Azriel’s previous conversation about twins. Elain had been joking, too, for the most part, then. They hadn’t been too close to their mother’s family, but she figured Nesta would have known. “What if I’m having twins?”

“What if you are?” Nesta repeated, and Elain rolled her eyes.

“If I am, Azriel will surely freak the hell out,” Elain mumbled, plopping down in an old wooden chair.

“Just means my baby gets two besties instead of one,” Nesta chuckled and Elain knew she was doing the exact same thing she was, rubbing soothing circles into her belly.

She smiled and changed the subject, asking, “When are you going to tell us what you’re having?”

The sigh that left Nesta would have made a soap star proud. “Whenever I find out, you’ll find out. Cassian is looking for the perfect gender reveal. He takes the damn envelope with him everywhere he goes because he knows I’ll look otherwise.”

Elain paused. “Has he looked? I can have Donovan ask, you know he’d tell-.”

“No, it’s still sealed,” she sighed. “I told him he has until next week to find something or I’m taking it to Viv’s bakery.”

The bell above the door jingled, alerting Elain of a new customer and she said, “I’ve got someone coming in, but let me know and I can drop it off on my way into work, okay?”

“Okay, I love you,” Nesta said, and Elain could hear her getting back up to go back to work as well. “Call Yrene. See if she can set up another scan. Find me another niece in there.”

Elain was laughing as she tried to see out of the back office. “And how do you know it’s a girl in the first place?”

“I have a hunch,” she replied, simply, then hung up.

With a roll of her eyes, and a small smile, Elain was up on her feet.

There was a tall, slender woman with long, blonde hair and some of the most beautiful eyes Elain had ever seen. She was eyeing an old, vintage floor length mirror that Elain had already refinished. She had been hoping that no one bought it because she was so in love with it that she wanted it in the corner of her bedroom.

“Hi,” Elain said, once she had approached, her smile bright. “Can I help you with anything?”

The woman met Elain’s eye with a smile. “Yes, actually. I’m looking for a gift.”

“I can certainly help with that,” she smiled. “Are we looking for something in particular?”

The woman glanced around the store. “Not really. It’s- it’s sort of complicated.”

“Okay,” Elain said, confused by the hesitation in the girl’s words. “Who’s it for?”

“The love of my life.” There was no hesitation this time and Elain smiled at her. “He’s an old soul. And I just got into town, I don’t know the area. So I just…ended up here.”

She nodded, knowing she hadn’t seen the beauty around before. It was a small town. “Who is he?” She saw the hesitation on her face and realized that just because she was in a small town, she might not be used to how nosy small town folks could be. “I’m sorry, that was rude. Follow me,” Elain said, blushing.

She led her over to an old workbench she’d finished the week before. She’d been debating on taking it home for Azriel to store his spare lenses and bodies for his cameras.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” the woman said, and then she blushed. “I have an odd request.”

Elain blinked. “Okay?”

“May I...sit on it?” She asked.

“Sit on it?” Elain repeated.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’d like to have some pictures taken with it.”

Elain blinked but said, “That shouldn’t be a problem. It’s quite sturdy.” The woman hopped up, pulling a foot up and planted it on the surface. Clearing her throat and looking away, Elain asked, “Are you a model?”

The woman’s eyes snapped to Elain’s. “Why?”

“You’re very pretty,” she laughed, meaning her words. “That and the pictures.”

“Ah,” the woman smiled. “Yes, I am. And thank you, that’s kind of you to say. You’re very pretty, too.”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink. “Thank you.”

“You’re pregnant, I see?” she asked, glancing down at Elain’s hand that rested on her stomach.

“I am,” Elain said, nodding.

“Congrats,” she said, her smile radiant. “And the father? He loves you?”

Elain’s heart softened. “Very much so. He’s….well, he’s my soulmate.”

“Soulmate,” the woman repeated. “I want to know what that’s like.” She looked back down at the bench. After a moment, she fished her phone out of her leather satchel and held it out to Elain. “A picture? Would you mind?”

“Of course not,” Elain said, taking the phone from the model’s hand and snapping a few pictures as she posed. Elain nearly felt awkward. It wasn’t everyday that she photographed models on her refinished antique furniture.

Azriel would get a kick out of it when she told him after work.

The girl hopped down and took her phone from Elain’s outstretched hand. She looked down at her phone, smiling and approving of the pictures. “Thank you, do you mind if I look around for a minute? Everything is so beautiful.”

“Of course not, please,” Elain said, smiling. She gestured towards the back of the store. “I’ll be in my office, but my name is Elain. Just holler if you need me.”

The girl smiled, slipping her phone back in her pocket and said nothing else. Something in her gaze though, it suddenly unnerved Elain and she turned and was nearly back to her office when she heard, “Thank you, Elain.”

A moment later, Elain heard the bell above the door announce her exit.

* * * * * *

Azriel had just dropped Novan off with Miryam. She was going to bring him to the zoo for a grandparent’s day, which Azriel was pretty bitter that he couldn’t go with.

It’s a Meme/Novan thing, Miryam had explained.

Azriel wasn’t going to argue by saying how much he loved seeing the giraffes.

Even though it was true.

He thought he’d try to scope out some landmarks, though, see what he could photograph in the little town of Velaris, before he went home and edited some stuff he had to send in.

But then, his phone chimed.

It was Ianthe, of course, but that wasn’t what had him slamming on his brakes.

Ianthe was sitting on an antique bench that had been refinished in a shop that Azriel knew all too well.

After pulling a very dangerous u-turn, resulting in a vulgar gesture from the minivan he’d accidentally cut off, he turned around and sped back into town, toward Elain’s shop. He cursed every time he got stopped at a redlight, which was far too often.

He didn’t see any cars in the small lot and knew that Elain parked in the back, but it didn’t stop him from pulling crookedly into the first spot he reached and rushing inside. Azriel hurried straight to Elain’s office and found her sitting at her desk, a forkful of salad in her mouth. Her eyes were wide in surprise, a bit of green hanging between her lips.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, breathless.

Elain’s eyebrows raised and she covered her mouth as she chewed, her other hand instinctively covering her stomach. “Yes? I mean, I think so,” she said, once she had chewed and swallowed her lunch. “What are you doing here, baby?”

Azriel glanced over his shoulder and saw that no one was in the shop. He hurried back to the door, flipping the open sign to closed, and locked the door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, voice slightly panicked as she left the back office.

He didn’t answer, just walked towards her and rested his hands on her hips, one of his thumbs gently brushing over her belly. “We need to talk.”

Elain blinked, staring at him as if he had gone mad. “Okay…”

“There was a woman in here today,” he began, trying to slow his words, realizing how panicked he sounded. “Blonde, tall-.”

“What, the model?” she asked.

So they had a conversation, Azriel thought, as he closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes. She’s… She’s my ex, El. She’s here from New York, and I don’t know why.”

Elain continued to stare at him for a minute, trying to register his confession. “What?”

“She’s my ex. The…one I had been with, after you.” His words were soft, ashamed. “She…texted me last night, saying she was in town.”

Elain was blinking, shaking her head, trying to process what he was telling her. “How do you even—. She said she was here to—.” Her eyes widened and she smacked him in the chest. “Oh, my god, those pictures were for you!”

He raised his hands in surrender, but could tell she wasn’t angry with him, thank the Cauldron, just taken off guard. “Apparently, so. But I didn’t ask for them.” He took her hands in his, turning her wedding band over as he spoke. “This is what I said I wanted to talk about earlier.”

Elain’s eyes slipped closed and she nodded, recalling his text from that morning. Reopening her eyes, she said, “I understand why you wanted to have this talk in person now.”

He smiled, but she could tell he was worried. “And until Donovan was in bed.”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around him. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

Azriel looked away from her, at the floor, at his shoes. At first, he didn’t know what to say. There was no real excuse, no real reason to keep something from his wife. “I was ashamed. Embarrassed. Lainy, the years we spent apart… I’m not proud of them, you know? A lot went on, and I hate it all. Unfortunately, Ianthe was a part of that time we spent apart, and now it’s coming back to haunt me.”

Elain nodded, although she nibbled on her lip.

“You’re thinking of something,” he whispered. “What are you thinking?”

“That my husband has some creepish girl that’s in love with him following him around,” she whispered, her words rushed. “And… I don’t know. She’s here. Around you. Me. Our son, our family, Azriel.”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “She won’t hurt us though, okay? She’s harmless.”

“Is that why you hurried here once you found out she came to the shop?” Elain asked, exasperated. He could see the fear in her eyes, how shaken this had her.

He was still shaking his head, but he dropped his forehead to hers. “I rushed here because I fucked up in not telling you last night and she’s manipulative enough to say something.”

Elain scoffed and said, “She’s got some pretty big balls if she came in here and had your wife take pictures to send to you.”

Azriel chuckled and said, “You’re right. But just—.” He sighed. “Promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Keep an eye on your surroundings.” As her eyes widened, he added, “I don’t think she would do anything, but I’m going to worry until she leaves town. I can keep Novan with me, I can keep an eye on him. But you two,” his eyes softened as he gently caressed her belly. “I can’t always be with you. And I need both of you safe.”

Elain’s eyes lined with silver and she said, “I love you. It doesn’t matter that she’s here. What matters is that we have each other.”

“Exactly,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss her softly. He leaned back and gazed down at her. “Gods, you’re beautiful. Didn’t you say there was something you needed to talk to me about, too?”

Elain was beaming up at him, but she blinked, registering what he’d said. “Yes, sorry. You distracted me and made me cry.”

With a chuckle, Azriel kissed her forehead and walked them back to her office. He sat down in her chair, and pulled her into his lap. “Here, eat and talk. I’m not turning that sign back around until you’ve eaten and are full.”

With an eyebrow raised, Elain asked, “Of your cock?”

Azriel choked on air and when he glanced at her, he found her cheeks red. “I know what’s on your mind today. I’ll remember that later,” he said, squeezing her ass softly. “Now what were you going to talk to me about?”

Elain could feel how hard he’d become, but she did as she was told and resumed her lunch. Before taking a bite, she said, “I’m going back to see Yrene tomorrow at nine.”

Azriel tensed. “Why?”

Elain shrugged. “Just another ultrasound.”

Azriel nodded. “Should I go with you?”

“You can, if you want,” she said, softly. “But, it’s just to be sure…”

There was a moment of silence before Azriel asked, “Sure of?”

“To be sure of how many babies are in here,” Elain said, quietly, holding onto her stomach.

Azriel stared at her, blinking. “You really think it’s twins? I thought you were joking.”

“I feel like I’m so much bigger than I should be, Az,” she breathed. “I’m not saying it’s for sure, but… It’s a possibility.”

Azriel took a deep breath and nodded. “And, if it is twins?”

Elain looked up at him. “If it is?”

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Elain, any child I can have with you is a blessing,” he whispered. “One baby, two, three… I just want to grow our family.”

Elain’s eyes were tearing up. “Three though? That’s a little much.”

Azriel chuckled. “I’m just saying… However many babies are in there, Lainy, I’m going to be so grateful.” She started to cry again, but ate her salad, and Azriel laughed. He kissed her shoulder and said, “I love you, you emotional, basket case.”

She stabbed another bite and muttered, “I love you, too.”

* * * * * *

The scene was so sweet, that even from the coffee shop in the square, Ianthe could see the couple lovingly embrace, and her pale eyebrow arched.

She hadn’t lied earlier, Azriel’s wife was very pretty. She was also very much pregnant. She hadn’t expected that. But she hadn’t thought that Azriel was serious when he’d said he’d had a son, until she took to social media and discovered she was blocked on every platform she had. After creating bogus account after bogus account, he finally accepted one of her follow requests and she came face to face with a picture of a little boy, who was the spitting image of him all over his personal Instagram, his Facebook, everything.

So he apparently had another on the way, it changed nothing. She came here for one reason and that was to bring Azriel back home. Clearly, he had no issue leaving who ever this Elain was while she was pregnant once before. She’d just have to convince him to do it again. Her lips curved upwards slightly as she took a drink from the white mug.

Azriel kissed his wife, softly, as they snuggled into his chair as she sipped her coffee.

He had confessed to her years ago that marriage meant little to nothing to him. In fact, he had proven his devotion to Ianthe over and over again throughout the years. Late at night, early in the morning, between shoots. They had seen each other naked too many times throughout the years for him to just disappear without a trace, saying he was married with kids.

It was bullshit.

Where did this woman even come from? Azriel had said very little about his past through the years, about the women he had dated before. All she knew was that he hadn’t seen anyone, at least not seriously, throughout the time she’d known him. Then, he comes home for a funeral, is gone for hardly any time at all, and comes back to New York, rejects her, and has a wife, a kid, and another on the way?

Something didn’t seem right.

She had come here for a job, that much was true. The modeling shoot had lasted less than a day and when the agency asked when to book her flight back, she told them she’d pay for her own flight, as she didn’t intend to return yet.

Because she wouldn’t be returning alone.

#lost time #snacmc #snelbz tacmc collab #elriel lost time #elriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #feysand #nessian

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redex-writes · 4 years ago

Note

If you are still doing fic request, AWO , Vincent/Leo Adopting a rescue dog( can be any breed)

Me, sobbing: please just let me write some short fluff This prompt, holding a gun to my head: plot or perish.

I’m sorry for making this so long ^^’ Anyways, this prompt killed me in every conceivable way, so thank you! It was genuinely fun to write, and I hope you like it!!

CW: (Very brief) description of animal neglect

“Leo, what the hell is this?”

Leo blinked at him, for all the world looking like an innocent man—despite the sopping wet, blanket-wrapped retriever he had just returned home with.

“I know it’s been like eighty years since you were in school,” he said, “but this, Vincent, is what they call a dog.”

“Funny,” Vincent deadpanned. He closed the door behind Leo to keep out the nearly torrential rain, grimacing when Leo knelt to place the shivering dog on the ground.

“May I ask why you thought it would be a good idea to bring a stranger’s dog into our house in the middle of a record-breaking rainstorm?”

Leo was already discarding the filthy blue blanket, tossing it to the side; it landed with a wet plop by Vincent’s feet, and he cringed.

“I don’t think she belongs to anyone,” he said, carefully running his fingers through the matted fur around the dog’s neck. “No collar. Besides, just look at her.”

Vincent had to admit that the dog did look rather worse for wear; its fur was tangled and muddy, and it was definitely quite thin. It looked up at him with big brown eyes, as if it were agreeing with Leo.

“Still,” he said, eyeing it warily, “you don’t know where it’s been. It could have fleas, or rabies, or god knows what else.”

Leo looked up at him, and Vincent was caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“So what, you wanna just kick her back out on the street into the rain?”

“Christ--no, Leo.” Vincent frowned, feeling a bit like he was being scolded. “But you need to think about stuff like this before you do it. We should take it to the shelter.”

Leo gave him an incredulous look.

“Are you kidding? Vince, half the city’s shut down from this rain; even if the shelter was open, there’s no way we’d be able to get there in this weather.”

“Well, we can’t just keep it here!”

“Why not?”

Vincent grit his teeth, resisting the urge to snap at him.

“Well, number one, we’re renting this house. Do you even know what the policy is on pets?”

“Do you?” Leo countered. Vincent took a deep breath.

“Number two: if it was a stray, there’s no telling what it could’ve picked up out there.”

“I’m not asking you to stick your head in her mouth,” Leo snapped. “We wash our hands regularly and make sure she doesn’t get into any of the food.”

Vincent pointed at him.

“Three: what will we feed it? It’s not like we keep dog food laying around.”

Leo huffed.

“Dogs can eat other stuff too, you know. And as soon as the rain dies down, I can run to the store and pick something up.”

“As soon as the rain dies down, we’re taking it to a shelter,” Vincent said firmly.

They stood in tense silence for a few moments, glaring. Finally, Leo sighed.

“Fine. But until then, she stays here.”

Vincent pursed his lips. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t like there was much of a choice.

“Fine.”

Leo insisted on giving the dog a bath that night, which Vincent didn’t protest--if they were going to be keeping it in the house, it might as well not be dripping mud everywhere.

Deciding to make himself useful, he opened the linen closet and started rifling through it to find some old towels or sheets they could use for a makeshift bed. Once he’d gathered a suitable pile, he made his way back down the hall. Passing the partly-open bathroom door, the sound of laughter caught his attention, and he peeked inside.

The bathroom was positively soaked--the floor, the towels, and Leo himself. He was kneeling next to the bathtub, holding a bottle of dish soap in one hand and trying to keep the dog at bay with the other. It had obviously perked up since coming into the warm house, trying to lick at Leo’s face while he scrubbed it down.

“C’mon, cut it out,” Vincent heard him chuckle. “Gotta get you all nice and clean, then you can have a little something to eat. That sound good to you?”

As if it could understand him, the dog’s tail gave a happy little wag. Leo grinned.

“Thought so.”

Vincent eased the door shut, a strange warmth in his chest.

To Vincent’s dismay, the rain hadn’t let up by the next morning. If anything it had gotten worse, dark clouds hanging low in the sky and the almost constant sound of rain against the windows echoing through the house.

“Said on the news that lots of roads are flooded,” Leo told him as he sat down with his toast and coffee. Vincent grimaced.

“No doubt. At this rate, even when it clears up it’s going to be a few days before everything’s dry again; not to mention how many basements have flooded, too.”

“At least we don’t have a basement to flood,” Leo joked. Vincent rolled his eyes, hiding his fond smile behind his cup of coffee.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt something furry brush against his bare foot. He looked under the table to see the dog laying curled against Leo’s feet, sleeping quietly.

“Leo, why is it under the table?”

Leo shrugged.

“She wandered in while I was making breakfast. I think the storm’s scaring her; she hasn’t let me out of her sight since I got up.”

Vincent sighed, taking another look under the table. The dog definitely looked better since Leo gave it a good clean up the night before, and he figured that with some proper food and rest it would start to look like itself again.

Once they got it to the shelter, of course.

As if reading his mind, Leo piped up.

“She’s brightened up a bit since I found her. And she’s housetrained, which means someone did own her at one point.”

Vincent hummed, frowning.

“Wonder why they’d just abandon it like that.”

Leo huffed.

“I don’t know, but if I ever find them I’m going to kick their ass so hard they’ll be shitting out of their ears.”

Vincent snorted, failing to hide his grin.

“Classy.”

“I’m just saying,” Leo defended, raising his hands, “anyone who does that shit deserves to be put in their goddamn place.”

“Agreed.” While Vincent may not have been thrilled about their unexpected house guest, he wasn’t a monster.

The dog snuffled in its sleep, its tail flopping against Vincent’s foot.

“Vincent!”

Leo’s call rang out from the living room. Startled, Vincent poked his head inside.

“What?”

He was sitting on the couch, grinning excitedly and holding the old banjo they’d fixed up some months prior. The dog was sitting a few feet away, and it cocked its head curiously as Vincent entered the room.

“Watch this.”

Leo began to strum the banjo, playing a simple tune. As Vincent watched, the dog cautiously started walking towards the couch. Leo paused, and the dog stopped, then started again when he continued to play. He did that a few times, playing some sort of musical ‘red light, green light’ with the dog, until it was right at his feet. It laid its head on Leo’s knees, looking up at him as he finished the tune with a mellow strum.

Vincent couldn’t deny the way his heart warmed at the sight, but he still clapped sarcastically.

“Congratulations. You’re the pied piper of stray dogs.”

Leo didn’t react to the teasing as he scratched behind both of the dog’s ears, grinning at the happy thump of its tail against the carpet.

“Y’know, she looks like a Banjo.”

Vincent stared at him. “Leo, we’ve been rained in for less than a day. It’s way too early for you to be confusing animals with musical instruments.”

Leo gave him a look. It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, but when it did, Vincent’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, no. No, no no no. Leo, you are not naming it.”

“Why?” Leo ruffled the dog’s ears.

“Because we’re not keeping it.”

Tension thickened the air, the only sound the rain pounding against the window. Leo set his jaw.

“Yeah, you’ve made that plenty clear by now.”

Something in his voice made Vincent falter, but before he could analyze it, Leo was standing and brushing past him out of the room, leaving him alone with the dog.

Vincent sighed. The dog looked up at him, and Vincent had the distinct feeling he was being judged.

“Shut up,” he muttered to no one in particular.

Leo avoided him the rest of the day. By the time Vincent was able to get him to stay in the same room, he had already fallen asleep on the couch. The dog was, of course, laying on the floor next to him; it looked up when Vincent walked over.

He sighed, sinking down to the floor and leaning against the couch. Leo’s hand was hanging down by his face, and he gently lifted it and placed it on the cushion beside his head, giving it a fond pat.

A weight in his lap startled him. He looked down to see the dog looking up at him with big brown eyes, and he gave a reluctant smile.

“It’s not your fault,” he muttered, giving the dog a few gentle pats. “I’m...not used to dogs.”

The dog, of course, just stared. Vincent laughed under his breath.

“He loves you already, though. You must not be so bad.”

His smile fell, and he sighed.

“Though, maybe I’m not the best example.”

As if she could sense his sadness, the dog nuzzled closer to him and closed her eyes. With a soft hum, Vincent scratched her behind the ear as he leaned back against the couch.

“Not so bad at all.”

Despite Vincent being the one who fell asleep on the floor, Leo looked like the walking dead as he dragged himself into the kitchen the next morning. Vincent looked up at him from where he leaned against the counter, giving him an amused once-over.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Leo grumbled. Vincent chuckled into his cup of coffee--at least he didn’t seem upset anymore.

“I hope you’re planning on changing your clothes before we go.”

Leo frowned at him, blearily rubbing his eyes.

“What?”

Vincent gestured to the window, where the heavy rainclouds had been replaced by a bright blue sky.

“Rain’s let up, and I called ahead to the shelter.”

Leo seemed to deflate.

“Oh. Right.”

“...They redirected me to the veterinarian, but luckily they’re open too.”

Vincent had to work to keep his straight face as he watched Leo process the words.

“What? Why?”

Vincent took a sip of his coffee.

“Well, they don’t do vaccinations at the shelter, and she should get a checkup and maybe some vitamins.” He nodded to the dog, who had padded into the room to sniff at Leo’s socked feet when she’d heard him walk in.

Leo looked at him suspiciously, but Vincent could see the faintest trace of hope in his eyes.

“Why do we need all that?”

Vincent let himself break into a grin then.

“As much as I love you, I think we could both do with the help of a trained professional to take care of our dog.”

Leo stared at him for a few long moments, face blank. Then he crossed the floor in three big steps, grabbed Vincent’s face, and kissed him hard.

“You mean it?” he asked breathlessly, a brilliant grin on his face. “We’re keeping her?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Fucking--yes, of course! Oh my god--”

Vincent laughed as Leo kissed him again.

“Go change,” he said, gently pushing him back. “Don’t want the vet mistaking you for the stray.”

“Fuck off,” Leo laughed. He gave Vincent one last peck on the lips before hurrying off to their bedroom.

Vincent set his coffee down on the counter, still smiling. A gentle nudge at his leg made him look down.

“Don’t worry, Banjo,” he said softly, reaching down to ruffle her ears. “You’re home now.”

#a way out fanfic #a way out oneshot #vincent x leo #vincent/leo #reqs

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

15. Nymph SternClay alternately, Stern is a Dryad residing in a huge forest where a strange creature, similar to humans but different (aka Bigfoot) wanders alone. Ever curious, Stern seeks to understand why this beautiful creature doesn’t seem to have anyone else, and even tries to hide from the few humans who venture deep enough into the woods. Can they be alone together?

Here you go! It’s SFW

Joseph knows he can’t spend every hour in the Great Oak, reading and researching the movements of humans. He still struggles to justify his fascination with creatures that have little contact with his kind. Some of his peers go so far as to insist humans are a myth, or the result of the odd dryad or naiad seeing a bear from the wrong angle.

This is false, of course, and humans have been getting bold lately, making paths and taking walks deeper and deeper into the trees. This means that dryads assigned to security roles must spend at least six hours a day in their tree to make sure no one threatens their home. Joseph is in a Copper Beech not far from the GreenBriar river, mentally drawing up his to-do list for the week, when heavy footsteps catch his attention.

At first he thinks it’s a particularly hairy human tromping through the underbrush, decked out in a ratty flannel shirt and what he’s heard humans refer to as “sweatpants.” But his feet are bare, his limbs and face covered in dark, copper-flecked fur, and his ears are more pointed than those of a human. He leans against Josephs’ tree, drumming his fingers on it as he surveys the area, massive back-pack slung over his shoulders. There’s a flat patch of grass twenty yards away, and this is where the visitor eventually settles. Within fifteen minutes, a small tent sits on the grass. When the creature crawls inside and lays down, his feet stick out of the flap.

Once snoring filters into the air, Joseph slips from the tree, conjures a blanket from moss, and sets it across his feet. It gets cold here at night.

His kind gesture does not go as planned.

The instant the fabric hits skin, the figure in the tent jolts upright, growling. Joseph sits back as his guest's head bursts into the open. Then their positions instantly reverse, the other creature scrambling backwards in alarm.

“What the fuck? Where, where’d you come from, I didn’t hear you, didn’t even smell you sneaking up on me.”

Joseph raises his eyebrows, “Probably because I smell like bark and my footsteps are no different from falling leaves.” He holds out his hand for the creature to shark, “Joseph Stern, dryad.”

“O-kay, so why is a dryad trying to…” he looks at the blanket for the first time, “tuck me in?”

“You’re new to woodland living, I take it?”

“Not really.”

Joseph sighs, “There are specific rules that govern this forest. One of them is that dryads are responsible for everything within a two mile radius of their base” he points to the Beech, “including any residents, visitors, or refugees. Which means you’re my responsibility.”

“Uh, I’m good, you don’t need to, like, babysit me.”

The dryad produces a notebook from his pocket, flipping to the section for his resident intake form, “I’m not babysitting you, I just need some information for my records. Name?”

Deep brown eyes blink, perplexed, and then his guest shrugs, “Barclay.”

“Species?”

“No fucking idea.” Barclay picks up the moss blanket, folding it and setting it next to the tent.

“Purpose of stay?”

“To get some peace and quiet.” He turns a pointed glare at Joseph. Even with the glower, he’s the most handsome creature the dryad has ever seen.

“Um. Right. I’ll just fill in the rest myself. If you need anything, I’m just over there.” He walks briskly away, managing to only look over his shoulder once. Barclay is watching him, looking for all the world like a hare waiting for the fox to pounce.

It’s only when he’s back in the tree that he realizes having a resident will cut down on his research time. Then again, his guest is far more intriguing than any human could ever be.

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

Barclay was so ready to stop feeling bad. He feels bad for stealing the tent from a guy he scared off his campsite two towns back. Bad for yanking clothes off the clothing line of rural houses so he could have two sets to rotate instead of a filthy, single shirt and shorts combo. Bad because it’s been months since he ate anything but MREs, granola bars, and day olds salvaged from dumpsters.

Now he gets to add “feel bad because you’re crashing on some guys front lawn” to that list. He didn’t even know nymphs were a thing; he thought he was the only weird semi-human in the world. Yet here’s Joseph, hair as dark and shiny as the leaves on his home tree, skin the color of bark, and vines occasionally twining up his arms and legs. Unlike Barclay, his inhuman features make him beautiful, not beastly.

Barclay came here to be alone.

Barclay hates being alone. He wants a house full of warmth and voices mingling over a kitchen table, wants people to care for and who care about him. So when Joseph appears the next morning near his small fire and it’s boiling pot of foraged tea, he offers the dryad some.

They sit, awkwardly sipping from their mugs, when he decides to take advantage of his host.

“I, uh, don’t suppose there’s any herbs growing around here? Like mint, or maybe alliaria? I wanna catch fish for dinner, but they taste better if I can season them.”

“I think there’s some growing upstream. Do you want me to show you?”

“Uh, no, that’s fine. I’m used to finding stuff on my own.”

Joseph nods, finishes his tea, and magics the cup clean before handing it back to Barclay.

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

“What...what’s all this?” Barclay stares, stunned, at the pile of goods sitting by his firepit. He counts a camp stove, teapot, and two boxes of fresh food, including bread and cheese,

Joseph looks up from organizing the supplies, “A few friends of mine, plus the Ashroot Market.” He smiles, Barclay’s stomach flipping like a flapjack when he does, “did you think we live on berries and air?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Barclay rubs his arm, embarrassed, “thanks, Joseph. I, uh, I don’t really have money, so maybe I can pay you back with-” he trails off as the nymph stands and sets a hand on his shoulder.

“Barclay, you don’t owe me anything. I did this because you keep saying how much you miss cooking from a real pantry and, um, I thought it’d make you happy to have some options.”

“It does.” He freezes as Joseph strokes the fur poking through a hole in shirt, “I can restock your sewing kit the next time, if you want.”

“That’d be great.” He wants so badly to touch him back, to see if he shudders away from his claws or holds his hand.

Josephs arm drops back to his side, “Ned has a surprising number of camping supplies. I suspect he stole them from humans, which is technically against the rules but” he indicates the stove, “I’ll let it slide for now.”

A conspiratorial wink and Barclay rumbles out a purr, catching it before Joseph notices.

“Will, uh, will you at least let me make you dinner as a thank you?”

The dryad nods, “That sounds perfect, big guy.”

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

Barclay doesn’t howl often; it draws unwanted attention and there’s no one like him out there to answer anyway. Tonight he couldn’t help it, the loneliness tearing him to bits on it’s climb up his throat. He’s cross-legged on the ground, face to the stars, when Joseph sits down beside him.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Thought you were out.”

“I was reading.” Joseph scoots closer, rubbing Barclay’s back, “and I can tell you’re lying.”

Barclay delays answering, fixes his gaze on the Beech where Joseph lives. Nymph homes occupy liminal spaces, fitting an entire domiciles within trees. His current hobby is imagining what it looks like on the inside; whether there are books stacked neatly everywhere, whether there’s a nice kitchen, how big the bed is, what the view from the bed is like…

He’s never going to know, Joseph made that clear.

“It’s not that no other creature is allowed in a nymph home, more that getting them in there takes a dangerous amount of energy.”

“Barclay?” Joseph rests his head on his shoulder, “have you always been alone?”

“No. Or, well, I don’t think so. I get flashes of memory from when I was really little. Like there’s this big house with lots people who look like me, and they’re talking and keep passing me around so the grown-ups can ruffle my fur and make this, this sort of” he breaks off into the low, soft hoots that echo down through the years, “and then...then there’s this gap and the next thing I remember is being dumped on the side of the road somewhere in central California, more or less an adult myself. I spent so long looking for my family, for anyone who looked like or could give me answers and all I got was some scars and a bunch of T.V shows about hunting me.”

“That sounds awful. I, um, I’m glad you stumbled into my neck of the woods. I know I’m not always the best company and ask more questions about living around humans than you’d probably like but, um, you deserve to have at least one person on your side.”

“Thanks” Barclay tips his head sideways so it’s resting against Josephs’, “Uh if, if you ever want to, we could have a dinner here with Duck and them. I like cooking for people; one of those things I know about myself even if I can’t remember why.”

He must imagine the lips brushing his forehead as Joseph sits up, “I’ll invite everyone first thing tomorrow.”

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

A danger of sleeping in Joseph’s clearing is that Barclay feels safe. Starts sleeping like he has nothing to fear.

The voices in the distance, jarring him awake in the dead of night, remind him of the truth.

“Shit” he scrambles out of the tent, piles it and all his other possessions into a hollow log and throws the moss blanket over it just to be safe. Then the worst sound in the world reaches him: barking. Not only are the hunters close, they have dogs. And, his acute hearing informs him, he’s their prey.

Fuck, his scent and fur are all over this part of the woods, no wonder they’re honing in on him so fast. His best chance is to run and cross the river, but there’s an open stretch on the other side, so unless he’s lucky they’ll still spot him.

“Hey! I think something is moving over here!”

He flattens against the Copper Beech, narrowly dodging the beam of a flashlight.

“Shit, shit” he doesn’t want to fight, doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He doesn’t want to be caught. Inhaling, he readies himself to give the loudest roar of his life.

Then the world tips and twists and he’s no longer in the woods. He is, however, in a tree, if the view from the window is anything to go by.

Gasping sends his attention to the floor and he drops to his knees, scooping a limp, pale Joseph into his arms.

“Wel, welcome to my house. Sorry it’s such a, a mess.”

He glances at the polished furniture, the neatly stacked books, and the spotless floor.

“Seriously, babe? That’s the first thing you say after saving my neck?” He giggles, tipping towards hysteria.

“I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

“You could have died.” Barclay adjusts him so he’s mostly upright and hugs him close, “I coulda lost you why, why did you-”

His question is lost in the clumsy kiss Joseph pulls him into. Barclay’s body gives up on adapting to anymore surprises and he falls onto his back, the nymph weakly petting his cheeks as he tries, clearly exhausted, to continue kissing him.

“You’re the most incredible being in the forest and, and I’ve been so happy since you came to stay. My entire body feels like a leaf beaten limp by the rain and I’d do the same spell this instant, without hesitation, if that’s what it took to keep you safe. Keep you with me.”

Carefully, Barclay guides him into another kiss, vines curling up them both the more he pours all his affection and thanks into the nymphs mouth. When Joseph finally pulls away, he nestles down on Barclays chest, running his fingers through his fur.

“You, um, you may be here awhile. I’m not sure if I can get you out safely or if Dani and the others will have to help me.”

“No complaints here.” Barclay strokes his hair, which feels like soft leaves and normal locks all at once.

Joseph answers a few more logistical questions before falling asleep in his arms, which is plenty of answers for one night. And in the morning, when the nymph rolls over to smile at him, he can confirm; the view from the bed is beautiful.

#sternclay #agent stern/barclay #monster march #reader requests #taz amnesty

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theycallmebecca · 5 years ago

Text

Drabble: Quarantining

I teased this drabble last night, but I’m finally getting around to posting it. It’s not a prompt based drabble, but I’m including it in my Stay Home, Read Drabbles collection anyway.

Shout out to @nomadicpixel who helped me brain storm for this last night.

Title: Quarantining

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Because of how tumblr can be silly about links, I will reblog this post with links to the masterlist and the prompt list.

With stay at home in full effect in Massachusetts, you had been prepared to spend the foreseeable future alone in your apartment. Then Chris, your boyfriend of six months, invited you to come stay at his house so you wouldn't be alone and you had agreed.

That had been almost four weeks ago. Almost 30 days of spending every day with Chris, his brother, and Dodger. You had enjoyed it, but at the same time, you missed the peace and quiet that was your apartment. Not to mention all the stuff you had left behind.

Your feelings for Chris were strong; you weren't quite ready to tell him that you loved him, but that's where things were headed. But you weren't sure where Chris visioned your relationship going, though, because he was being pretty quiet on the subject.

There had been a point just before the world had shut down that you thought something might happen, but then everything had gone upside down and his brother had come home on the heels of a breakup. You had to believe that whatever Chris had been planning was on the back burner for the sake of his brother and the uncertainty of the future only, especially since he'd invited you to stay with them through it all.

A very loud sneeze that sent dog saliva everywhere reminded you of your cuddle companion and you looked down at Dodger, who laid curled up at your side on Chris's bed. Normally, the dog never let Chris out of his sight, but this morning, you'd been his chosen human.

"Bless you," you told the dog as you used the bedsheet to wipe off the aftermath of his sneeze from your face. Dodger lifted his head and nuzzled your chin before licking you. Laughing, you rubbed his head. "Yes, I forgive you."

"There you two are," a warm voice said from the doorway.

Dodger let out a happy bark and you felt his tail thumping against your leg at the sound of Chris's voice, but he didn't leave your side as Chris made his way over to the bed. The dog looked at you and waited for you to nod your head before he crawled over to Chris, rolling onto his back almost immediately for tummy rubs.

"You ok?" Chris asked you, concern etched into his handsome face as he petted Dodger. "You've been quiet today."

"Just need a break from everything," you replied, gesturing to the main part of the house.

Chris nodded in understanding. "I admit going from an empty house to a full-ish house has been an adjustment," he agreed. "But I'm certain Dodger thinks it's the best thing ever."

You couldn't help but smile as the dog let out a happy bark, as if confirming that statement.

"You're happy here, right?" Chris asked, after several minutes of silence. "With me. Us."

"I am," you assured him. "It's just, I'm used to having my own space, my own things. And right now, I'm living out of my suitcases." Looking up, you saw worry start to work itself across his face and knew you had to ease his mind. "I'm much happier here with you guys than I would have been all by myself, but sometimes I need the quiet and the space."

"I understand," he replied and you could tell he did, but you could still see that hint of worry lingering in his eyes. "Do you want me to sleep -"

"No!" you said, quickly. "No, I don't want you or me to sleep somewhere else."

"Good, but if that changes, let me know," he said, reaching over and squeezing your hand. "Scott mentioned wanting to go over to Ma's for a bit. So maybe we'll go do that and let you stay here, have some peace and quiet."

"The kids would love that," you said with a smile, remembering the last time the three of you had gone over to his mom's house to play with his niece and nephews. "And maybe I'll take a nap or something."

"Well now I'm jealous." Chris chuckled as he leaned over Dodger to give you a quick kiss, only to end up with a face full of fur when Dodger interfered with that plan.

Laughing, you sat up while Chris sputtered.

"Not funny," Chris muttered, but there was a grin spreading across his face regardless. Looking down at his dog, he asked, "Are you going to let me kiss her goodbye?"

Dodger let out a sigh and dropped his snout onto your thigh, making you and Chris both chortle. Tilting your head towards Chris, you accepted his quick kiss before you laid back against the pillows.

Getting off the bed, Chris stretched and then looked at Dodger, who was now laying curled up against you again. "Guess you're staying here to nap, too, then?" he asked. The dog let out a small huff. "Alright, I'll see you two later."

You watched Chris leave the bedroom, blowing him a kiss when he paused in the doorway. Then you closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep.

------

Coming out of the bedroom, Chris passed one of the two guestrooms in his house and then circled back to it. The room housed a spare trundle bed from his mom's house on one wall and some storage stuff in the closet, but other than that was a blank slate. He'd meant to let the kids use it as a room when they stayed the night, but that hadn't happened yet.

Leaving the room, he sought out his brother, finding him in the kitchen making a sandwich.

"Did you find them?" Scott asked, looking up.

"Yeah, they're in the bedroom," Chris replied as he started to make himself a sandwich. He wasn't exactly hungry, but he needed to do something with his hands while he worked everything out in his head. "They're going to take a nap."

"Is she ok?" Scott asked him. "She's seemed kind of down the last couple of days."

"I think she is feeling the pressure of being cooped up with us for the last four weeks," Chris replied with a sigh. "You and I are used to a semi-nomadic lifestyle and she isn't. She misses having a space to call her own."

"If only you had thought to ask her to move in with you, oh, I don't know, six weeks ago," Scott said in a sarcastic tone. "Oh wait, you did. But you chickened out."

"I didn't chicken out," Chris replied, glaring at his brother. "You showed up on my doorstep fresh off a breakup. I wasn't going to rub my relationship in your face."

"That's bullshit," Scott stated, pointing his finger at his brother. "Especially since you then invited your lovely girlfriend to come stay with us anyway."

Chris sighed, knowing his brother was right. He'd meant to ask her to move in with him in late February and then everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. He'd had a whole thing planned, he was going to tell her that he loved her and ask her to move in with him. Then chaos had hit and he hadn't wanted her to think he was only making such declarations because of what was happening.

Scott let out an 'mmmhmm' noise that was similar to the one their mom made when her point had been proven.

It was time to step up, Chris decided.

"Did you already text mom and tell her we were coming over?" Chris asked his brother.

"No, I was going to wait until after lunch," Scott replied. "Why?"

"Because I have an idea and I need your help," Chris told him.

------

The house was quiet when you and Dodger exited the bedroom an hour or so later. You followed him outside for a few minutes while he did his business and then the two of you came back into the house. You made lunch and he kept you company while you ate, his tail thumping on the ground as he waited to see if you might drop anything. You didn't, but rewarded his good behavior with a treat.

By the time you finished cleaning up your lunch mess, you were starting to miss Chris and Scott. The brothers were alike in so many ways, but different at the same time. They didn't necessarily fight, but they enjoyed pushing each other's buttons from time to time. Or jumping out to scare each other, which often led to you being scared by accident.

Taking your phone out of your pocket, you sent Chris a text:

Having fun?

With this motley crew? Always.

You smiled. His relationship with his family was one of the things you loved most about him.

Are you guys staying for dinner or should I start something?

Takeout? Be home soon.

Takeout works for me. See you soon.

He and Scott got home about an hour later, just as you and Dodger were getting ready to go on a walk to burn off some energy. You invited them to join, but Scott begged off, saying he had to do a few things before dinner.

Taking Dodger's leash in one hand and yours in the other, Chris led you down the long driveway of his property and out to the main road. The three of you walked for half of a mile or so before dark clouds began to roll in.

"Guess I should have looked at a weather app before I decided to do this," you said with a laugh as the rain started to fall.

With no sidewalks, the edge of the road was mostly dirt, gravel or grass, which meant that by the time the three of you made it back to the house, you were all wet and muddy. Instead of using the front door, Chris led Dodger into the mudroom off the garage while you went in through the patio door off the master bedroom.

Teeth chattering, you hurried into the bathroom and stripped off your wet, muddy clothes before getting into the shower. You half expected Chris to join you at some point, but he didn't. Instead, you showered alone and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel before venturing into the bedroom.

You made your way to the corner of the room where your suitcases had been living, but froze when you realized that they were missing. Turning to look around the room for them, you saw that the small set of wicker drawers from your apartment was next to Chris's dresser, which had a couple drawers partially open, revealing some of your stuff.

Still confused, you dressed quickly and then left the bedroom, looking for Chris. You walked right past the guestroom closest to his room and only stopped when you heard him call your name.

You turned to find him in the doorway of the room, blocking your view.

"I have a surprise for you," he said as he stepped out of the way and motioned you into the room.

Confused, you stepped into the room, but as soon as you saw that ugly lamp from your living room sitting on a table from his living room, you felt tears start to pool in your eyes. Then you noticed that the daybed with the trundle under it had your throw pillows and your favorite soft blanket on it. Looking around the room, you saw a bunch of little things that reminded you of home and it made you feel at peace.

With blurry eyes, you went to Chris and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Thank you," you said, your words shaky from emotion.

"It's all I can do right now," he said, brushing away your tears with his thumbs.

"It's perfect," you assured him with a smile.

"There's something else," he said, holding onto your hands. "Something I meant to do six weeks ago."

You felt your heart thumping in your chest and you knew right then and there that you loved him. There was no doubt about it.

"I love you."

You said it.

He said it.

At the same time.

And then you both laughed and he kissed you again.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," he said with a smile. "Because there was one other thing I was going to do six weeks ago and as Scott pointed out to me earlier, it would have made this quarantine thing a lot easier on you." He gestured to the bedroom and your stuff. "I would love it if you would move in with me. Permanently."

A bark from your feet made you both look down. Dodger bumped his head against Chris's knee.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dodger and I would love it," Chris amended. He glanced down at the dog, who let out a cheerful bark.

"I'd love to move in with you two," you told him.

"Please don't kiss again," Scott said from the doorway.

You chuckled while Chris glared at his brother.

"What? I just came to tell you that dinner is here," Scott replied. "But if you two want to starve, that's on you." He winked at you before he disappeared down the hall.

"Maybe we should quarantine at your place," Chris muttered in your ear.

"And miss out on all this fun? Never," you replied. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and then left the room with Dodger following.

#theycallmebecca #theycallmebeccawrites #becca writes drabbles #stay home read drabbles #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #reader insert

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strayen-fx · 5 years ago

Text

My Roommate is a Demon | Part II

Genre: Fluff, angst

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: trauma, road accident, mention of death, panic attack

A/N: I've finally finished it! Hope you guys like it 🥺

"That's your delaying tactic, huh?"

Minho paused from petting Doongie and looked up at me, confusion written on his face. "What?"

I stood beside the TV, my arms across my chest, eyeing the demon who was sitting on my apartment floor. There was a reason why I never looked for a roommate -- I'd rather choose to pay an expensive rent than live with a total stranger that may/may not be a psycho, or worse, a jerk who doesn't know how to segregate biodegradable waste from non-biodegradable.

And yet, here I am: stuck with someone who was literally spawned by hell.

"How long do you intend to stay in my house?"

"Until you've told me your wish," Minho answered with a wide grin. He brought his attention back to Doongie and resumed attacking a bag of chips. "Until then, I'll be leeching off of you like the handsome demon that I am."

That's his third bag of chips for the day. "I already told you my wish," I pointed out. "Wishes, actually. But you never did any of them. So tell me -- are you toying with me? Just so you could stay here and play with my cats all day?" I eyed him suspiciously. "Are you running away from your tasks down in your place or something?"

Minho glared at me. "Your previous wishes wouldn't even count as wishes. You called for a demon, not a genie in a bottle," he scoffed. "You were supposed to ask for evil, injurious, hostile, insidious, destructive stuffs. And you asked me to give you an unlimited supply of pizza?"

"That's not the only wish I've told you," I argued.

Minho rolled his eyes. At this point in time, I am already used to seeing that affectionate gesture. "Right. You asked me to duct-tape Chan's laptop. You also asked me to trip Jisung. And you asked me to steal Changbin's plushie. Right. You have an absolutely terrifying and lethal mind, Y/N."

"Playing with Chan's equipment is evil," I reasoned out. I have actually witnessed Chan going nuts when he thought he lost his hard drive, and I swore to myself I would never want to see him furious again. It was the epitome of danger.

"...Are you for real?" Minho asked flatly. "That's, like, one of the top 100 lamest pranks I have ever heard. We're supposed to do crimes, not petty pranks on your kid neighbor."

"Can I just wish for you to leave?"

"Nope. Next question?"

"What am I supposed to do, then?" I whined. "I can't exactly wish for a random explosion in the streets, can I?"

Minho contemplated the idea for a few seconds. "That's not evil enough. We need something impactful -- I need something gold on my resume."

"...Resume?"

"Relevant experience, duh. I'm a hardworking employee. I need promotions."

I groaned, totally done and pissed and just generally going crazy about my whole predicament. How am I going to shake off my cat-loving demon roommate?

Minho grinned once more, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Guess that means you'll be spending an eternity with me."

°°°°°°°°°

"Can you burn my uni down?"

"That's not even an evil request. That's called service to the student body."

"Can you kill all the bugs in my city?"

"I may be a demon, but I do not intervene with the ecosystem. I'm done with you mortals ruining the planet. It's getting bad for my skin."

I frowned at Minho, who insisted on walking me to campus. He said he wanted to see my uni, but I'm pretty sure he's got some underlying intention he's not telling me. I felt wary for a sudden ambush.

"Can you give my professor the flu?"

"If we're talking about the flu that escalates into world destruction, then I guess we can get down to business--"

Minho suddenly stopped walking. He remained rooted on the road, staring at a middle distance. There was a look of worry in his eyes.

"H-hey, is something wrong?" I asked.

"I-I gotta go," Minho said hurriedly. He then sped off, almost tripping on his own feet. "I'LL SEE YOU AT HOME!" he shouted over his shoulders.

I don't know why, but the way he worded it made me feel a major blush creeping on my cheek. "YOU DON'T NEED TO GO BACK!"

°°°°°°°°°

"Where on earth did that demon go?"

My classes have already ended. Chan, Jisung and Changbin were all busy creating new tracks for the upcoming music fest, so I was forced to walk home alone. They were too busy these past few days, I hadn't gotten the chance to update them on the crazy scenarios unfolding in my life. They didn't even know I had a demon for a roommate. They didn't even know I've gotten a roommate, in the first place -- I bet they'd go crazy on their next visit.

That is, if I'd still have a roommate by that time.

"He said he'll see me at home," I mumbled. "Or did he just say that? Did he go back to wherever he came from? Without even informing me?"

As if on cue, I heard rustling of bushes from somewhere in front of me. I initially thought it was a thief. I was prepared to sprint off, but just then, Minho slowly walked into view, holding his hands against his stomach.

"You're here," I said quietly. Was that relief I just felt? Well, I guess I did feel relief knowing there wasn't a thief in front of me (but a demon instead. The irony.)

"Yeah," Minho smiled sheepishly. "I'm, uhh, just about to go home."

I gave him a weird look. "It has been hours since you walked me to school, and you're still here outside? You're just going home?" I noticed a few leaves that got stuck on his hair plus a few scratches along his forearm. My brow shot up. "By any chance... did you... get lost?"

A faint blush formed on the demon's cheeks. "I'm not used to human civilization, okay? I don't know your freak symbols. All the roads look the same -- how am I supposed to know where I am supposed to go?"

I tried to swallow the laughter bubbling in my stomach. "So you did get lost. I thought you're a demon? Can't you track me home with your demon powers or something?"

"I can only track your presence; ever wonder why I'm here in front of you? Your house is another thing. My powers aren't that strong yet." He began striding off to the direction opposite my house. I jogged after him, trying to match his long strides.

"Ya Minho. Are you sure of where you're-- Hey, what's that... thing on your belly?" I pointed at the weird spherical bulge on his stomach. He was wearing a baggy shirt, but the shape was still pretty much evident. It looked like a soft round pillow underneath his clothes. "Are you pregnant?"

"What are y-- I'M NOT PREGNANT, OKAY?" Minho's ears burned red, and he looked absolutely flustered.

"Would you care to explain, then, what--"

"Meow~"

"Did you just meow at me, Lee Minho?"

"MEOW~"

The thing under Minho's shirt suddenly moved, protesting against the hands holding him. Minho was taken by surprise -- he wasn't able to stop the little cat from breaking free from his hiding spot.

"You brought a--"

"Meow~" The cat landed on my feet. He is so small, probably just a month old. He had grey and white fur, and his meow sounded soft and sweet. He looked up at me expectantly, as if assessing the possible danger I held against him. It then brushed its body against my legs, marking me as his human.

"You brought a cat?"

"What do you expect me to do?" Minho whined. "I heared him meowing and crying desperately for help. I can't just leave him alone in the street, he's too young!"

"That's why you scampered off earlier?" I stiffled a laugh. "Are you sure you're a demon? Didn't you send your application to the wrong agency?"

"Shut up. Let's bring Dori home, alright? He's hungry."

"You even named him already."

"I said shut up."

We began walking to my apartment -- the correct direction this time -- while Minho carried Dori in his arms. I had to admit: they looked adorable. Minho looked so soft while cradling the baby cat, and Dori looked comfortable in the hands of his new owner.

And then I thought: Once Minho leaves, who's going to take care of Dori?

Nah, I could definitely take care of another cat at home.

But Minho is the one who found Dori. He is the parent, not you.

Minho has to leave soon -- I can handle Dori on my own.

Okay.

...

You're not gonna miss him?

...Of course not.

...

But Minho--

Shut up.

We were only a couple blocks away from my apartment. We were approaching a pastry shop which sells delicious cheesecake when suddenly, Dori jumped down from Minho's hold. The cat quickly ran off to the shop, carelessly crossing the street with her tiny paws.

"Dori!" Minho immediately ran after him, not even bothering to check the road for approaching vehicles.

A huge van was approaching fast. The driver probably didn't notice that someone was crossing the road -- he wasn't slowing down even one bit. His headlights blared, bright and harsh and ominous.

My brother. His bicycle. Blood. Van. Shattered glass. Smoke. Blood, everywhere. My brother, limp, unmoving. Blood. He was coughing blood. And his eyes... his eyes were blank. He wasn't blinking. He was staring at me with vacant eyes. He was bleeding. He--

"MINHO!"

The vehicle barely missed Minho by an inch. He successfully retrieved Dori. He looked back at me and smiled reassuringly, his hand held up in a thumbs-up.

My knees felt weak. I fell on the sidewalk, my heart thumping at a hundred beats per second. I couldn't feel my fingers. It felt as if I was dunked head-first into a pool of ice. Tears began welling in my eyes, making my surroundings blurry.

The next thing I knew, Minho was kneeling on my side. He was asking me a lot of questions, but I couldn't understand any of it. My heart was beating crazily in my chest. It was beating in my throat. It was beating in my ears. Dori was standing at my feet, carefully licking at my exposed skin.

"Minho..."

"I'm here," he answered.

"Don't leave me. Never leave me."

He fell quiet for a few moments. And then: "You know that wish is against the rules of hell, right?"

I looked at him, trying to read the emotion in his caramel eyes. There was a look of genuine concern in them.

"We are not allowed to stay with humans for a period longer than our mission. Your wish breaks the most important rule for demon interns like me, which means that it's an evil wish." Minho smiled softly. "Is that the wish you are going to ask from your demon?"

I nodded. I pulled him into a tight hug, not even caring about my unflattering appearance on the side of the road. "Stay with me."

"I've heard your wish loud and clear," he declared. Minho carefully patted my head as he tightened his hold on me, lending me warmth from his embrace. I can actually feel him smiling. "We have a 'no return, no exchange' policy. Whether you like it or you like it, you're now stuck with your demon roommate forever."

°°° °°° °°°

°°°

A/N: Please stop me from giving this a steamy part three

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