#holy shit me and my husband have said exactly this about name of the wind especially book 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thatsgay-writes · 3 years ago

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Could I possibly request an alternate ending to Angella x daughter reader part 2. Like instead of Glimmer teloporting reader to perfumas kingdom. Glimmer teloports reader to the middle of the fright zone and reader gets captured by shadoweaver. Shadoweaver blocks her memories of earth and angella, as she makes her a soldier.

(My memory is a little foggy about the show as write this, but I'm setting it so that Catra and Scorpia left the Horde before the whole Horde Prime issue and that Micah returned to Bright moon before getting mind controlled. The story may not line up exactly with the the show but it should stay relatively similar.)

The walk out of the woods was a little awkward to say the least. The group that had surrounded you still seemed a little uneasy by your presence. Well all of them except for two girls named Perfuma and Scorpia… Weird names. “Where are you from?” The blonde asks as she puts together some flowers. “Umm, Oakridge.” The other one, Scorpia, looked at you with wide and curious eyes. “Where’s that at? What’s it like?” “Hell.” You answer without thinking, that’s just what you’ve always thought of the place. “What’s hell?” You feel yourself physically facepalm as you remembered that hell wasn’t a universally known thing. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” You try and look forwards, hoping to get Angella’s attention to get you out of the conversation but she is too busy speaking to Glimmer. Which you understand.

You hear flapping from above and watch as a horse lands in front of the group. “I told you all not to leave without me! I was in the middle of a conversation. Oh Spirits! Queen Angella!” The white horse said. Said!? “Holy shit! Do all horses talk on this planet?” You accidentally blurt out, completely shocked. Angella looks back at you with a hand covering her mouth to hide her laughter at your completely dumbfounded face. “No, Swift Wind, here is the only one that can.” You walk up slowly to the horse, Swift Wind. “Can I touch it?” You ask, still completely gobsmacked. “I am not an it. But yes you can pet me.” “This is so cool.” You whisper as you pet his wings, missing how Angella stares at you with a motherly look, while Glimmer glares at you for taking her mother’s attention away from her.

—

“Ok, mom, I have a big surprise for you.” Glimmer tells her mom as the group finally reaches the castle. On the whole walk there, you had managed to befriend everyone except for Glimmer. You even got along with the scary cat girl and the emo mermaid. “That would be great Glimmer, but I want to rest. Teleporting across worlds is not as easy as it sounds. I also need to get y/n set up in a room.” Angella responds, causing Glimmer to roll her eyes at your name. “Trust me, you’ll want to see this.” Glimmer reiterates as she pulls her mom farther away from the group and into the castle.

You got the vibe that Glimmer didn’t like you much and you didn’t want to follow her, “So what do you guys do for fun around here?”

—

“Micah?” Angella says as Glimmer finally stops pulling her. There, in the war room, looking at something on the table was her “dead” husband. “My eyes must be deceiving me.” Angella says as she rubs here eyes, thinking he’ll be gone when she reopens them. “You… I…” Angella doesn’t know what to say. She had been dreaming of seeing him again for years. Always planning what she was going to say, how she was going to apologize for sending him to fight. “Hey Angie…” The former king says as he gets closer to his wife, never thinking he would see her again after Glimmer told him what happened. Angella tosses any sense of formality aside and pulled her husband in for a long hug. “How… When… Why…” She sobs out as he rubs her back in hopes of calming her down. “Shh… It’s okay. We have much to talk about.

—

After spending a few minutes attempting to catch up with her family, Angella remembered that she still hadn’t show you to your room. "Oh dear… Come with me, I want you to meet the person who helped me out those two years I was gone.” Angella says as she grabs Micah and Glimmer’s hands. “If I know her, she’ll probably be on the training grounds.” She mumbles off handedly. And she was correct, the sound of grunts and hits could be heard from down the hall as you and Adora battled it out. Adora wasn’t in her She-ra form of course. The royal family walked in right as you slid between Adora’s legs and kicked her in the back, causing her to fall. “I win.” You say with a smirk as you help Adora up. “Y/n.” “Yeah, mom?” You respond to Angella, missing the way everyone looked at you in shock, Glimmer glaring at you. “I would like you to meet my husband, Micah.” You hold out your hand in greeting and receive a hug in return. “Ok, big guy, I don’t really do touching.” You tell Micah as you awkwardly pat his back and let out a sigh of relief when he lets go of you. “Sorry but I just wanted to thank you for helping out Angella while she was stuck on your world.” “It’s fine, the least I could do.”

—

It had been a few weeks since Angella and you arrived in Etheria and things were going well. Angella got to see how fast Glimmer had grown into a good Queen and play catch up with her and Micah. You were fitting in pretty good as well. You managed to befriend each of the princesses, plus Bow and Sea Hawk, and learned as much as you could about Etheria. The only thing you were having problems with was getting to know Glimmer. You figured that since Angella was important to the both of you, you would have something in common to get a friendship started. But Glimmer seemed absolutely opposed to that. She didn’t even seem to want you hanging out with her friends, mainly Bow, Adora, and Catra. Every time you would ask to hang out with one of them, Glimmer would teleport in and claim to need them for the most random reasons.

“Glimmer?” You knock on the door to the princess’s bedroom, finally wanting to know why the other girl detested you so much. “Come in!” She shouts and you enter the room slowly and close the door behind you. “Oh, it’s you.” She rolls her eyes and you get angry. You had been nothing but nice to everyone since you arrived and Glimmer had no reason to seemingly hate you this much. “What is your problem?” You ask and Glimmer can detect the anger in your voice. “What problem, I don’t have a problem.”

“You clearly have a problem with me. I have been nothing but nice since I arrived and have managed to befriend everyone here. But you have been nothing but rude and ruin any hang out plans I have with everyone almost all the time. What did I do wrong?” You ask, hoping Glimmer would finally give you an answer. “I have no clue what you are talking about. I have done nothing of the sort.” You stare at Glimmer completely gobsmacked, how could she be acting so dumb. “Stop bull shitting me! The way your mother talked about you made you seem like a kind and good hearted person, but all I see now is how much of a bitch you are!” You yell at her, completely done with her playing stupid act. “How dare you talk to your queen like that!” Glimmer yells, getting equally as angry as you are. “You are not my queen!” “Ahh!” Glimmer yells as she rushes at you. You block, expecting a hit to be sent your way, but instead you feel Glimmer grab you and teleport you somewhere.

---Difference Starts Here---

"Ahh!" You yell as you feel yourself suddenly falling. You tried to reach out towards Glimmer but she teleported away before you could grab her. You land on your back and lose your breath. "Where am I?" You mumble as you finally regain your breath and sit up. "Oh geez. Am I where I think I am?" Wherever Glimmer put you, looked exactly like the Fright Zone that Angella had described to you. "This is not goo-" You cut yourself off as you hear footsteps near by and run quickly to find somewhere to hide. "This way guys, I swear I heard something." You hear a males voice say. "I swear Kyle, you heard something last week as well!" "Lonnie I promise, it's actually something this time... Rogelio back me up." From what you can tell, it was a group of three. One girl, one male, and one... Something that growls.

"I can take them." You whisper to yourself, already planning what to do in your head. "I just got to get by them, find the woods, and find help... Which way is the forest?" As you mumble to yourself, you don't hear the footsteps grow closer until the piece of metal your hiding under is lifted and you are met with a boy, a girl, and a giant lizard? "Oh my god!" You yell as you back up quickly and look for something to defend yourself with. "First walking and talking cats, talking horses, and now human like lizards! I hate this planet!" You yell as you hold a metal pipe out in front of you. All three of the people in front of you give you a weird look. "Look, I don't know where I am. I have only been on this planet for a few weeks and barely left the castle!" The three in front of you share a look again before they approach you slowly. "Look, you're going to have to come with us. We have to take you to Shadow Weaver."

"Oh shit."

---

"Y/n?" Angella said as she knocked on you bedroom door. It had been a week since she had last seen you. She had sent people to check on you but they all had said you didn't answer. Since Angella was so preoccupied getting caught up with all this Horde stuff, she just figured you were finally letting the time travel and different planet information catch up and taking a well deserved rest. "I'm coming in." She announced still not having heard a peep out of you and her heart drops when she open the door. Your room looked completely empty, untouched. "What?" She asked herself as she walked into your room and touched your bed, that looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. "It's cold." Angella can feel her heart drop as she runs out of the room. She thought that maybe you had wanted space to get use to your new surroundings, but now she can see how totally wrong she was.

--- 1 Month Later---

"Good training today cadets." Shadow Weaver says as she stands in front of you and your cadets. "Hordak has actually assigned you all a mission under Force Captain Octavia. That will take place next week. Be prepared." She said before she she left the training room. "Did you guys hear that! Our first mission." You say happily as you all enter the locker room. "Well your first mission, we've been on tons already." You roll your eyes at your girlfriend. "Lonnie, baby, don't ruin this for me. I've been stuck in the fright zone for as long as I can remember."

"I just don't see what your so excited about. Octavia isn't the most fun force captain to be paired with." Kyle says nervously, as if someone was listening in to the conversation. You exit the small bathroom connected to the locker room. "Look all I'm saying is that we get to spend a few days outside of the fright zone. Maybe have to share our tents with someone else..." You smirk slightly as you see Kyle blush and send a quick glance at Rogelio, while you let your hand run up Lonnie's arm. Lonnie returns you smirk, ignoring the feeling of her face heating up. "Okay, maybe it won't be that bad."

---

"The front's secure. Don't see any sign of a princess." You say into your earpiece as you and Kyle scout out Plumeria. "We're moving in." It was a simple mission, sneak into Plumeria, get a piece of the magical tree, and get out. "Be careful okay?" You hear Lonnie say through your earpiece. "I'm always careful... Kyle, on the other hand." The boy next to you pretends to take offence to your statement and ends up stepping on a stick. Making a loud crack sound in the middle on the silent village. "Shit, hide." You say as you and Kyle scramble to find a place to lay low for a few seconds in case anyone decided to investigate the noise. After waiting a few beats, you step out from your hiding spot and continue on your way.

"Hey! Who are you?" Someone yells behind you and you turn around to see one of the people who lived in the village. Their face changed to fear and shock when they say the insignia on the shoulder of your shirt. "It's the Horde! The Horde! Someone get Princess Perfuma!" You and Kyle break out into a sprint, separating and trying to find a new hiding spot. "We've been spotted! I repeat we've been spotted." You take a second to catch your breath before taking a sharp left as you see more and more people exit their homes. "There should be enough of a distraction in the front for you and Rogelio to sneak in from the back and get the sample." You run straight into a warrior who starts to attack you. "I thought you guys were supposed to be peaceful or something!" You yell as you dodge a swing of their staff. "Y/n? Kyle? Are you guys okay?! We're coming to help!" You hear Lonnie say through the coms but her idea is quickly cut off. "That's a negative, they have all the attention in the front. You will grab a sample and return to base." You could imagine how pissed Lonnie was at Octavia's instructions.

"Just listen to her Lonnie. I'll grab Kyle and we'll meet you guys at the rendezvous point in half an hour." You say as you knock out the last guy you were fighting and run off in search of Kyle. You don't hear any response and assume she's following what she was instructed to do. When you finally find Kyle, you manage to knock out the man that had him pin and get away. "We got to meet the others at the rendezvous point okay? I'll distract them and you get away. If I'm not there within the hour, I've been captured. Go!" You tell Kyle as you push him towards the woods, just in time to dodge a swing from a vine. You turn to see Princess Perfuma standing tall with Scorpia at her side. "Y/n!?" They both say in shock as you get into a defensive position. "This is definitely not good."

---

"Queen Angella!" The head guard yelled as they ran into the throne room. Angella and Micah still held the title of King and Queen but let Glimmer continue to be the true Queen of Bright Moon. The guard bows to all three of the royals in the throne room. "Perfuma has found Princess Y/n." Angella stands up fast, "Where? Take me to her right now." "You'll have to wait my queen, Y/n isn't the same as she was before she disappeared." Angella and Micah share a confused looked, while Glimmer gets worried. Not about you but about what she did get out. "What do you mean?" The guard almost audibly gulps. "She was found while helping the Horde."

---

"Lonnie is gonna kill me..." You say with a groan as you throw your head back against the chair cushion. "Well... it isn't the worse place to be held prisoner." You note as you sit in a comfy room with your hands tied together by some rope. "Oh my god... I can already imagine the silent treatment I will receive... I'll probably have to sleep in my own bed." You let out a sigh, already thinking about what will happen when you escape or get rescued. The door to the room opens and you see a tall angel looking lady, a older man with a beard, and a shorter plump girl with short hair. "Ahhh, if it isn't the king and queens of Bright Moon." You say as you lean back more comfortably in your chair. "Why have you come to see such a lowly cadet such as myself?" You didn't know what to expect, you had been tortured before in the Fright Zone but you felt like that wasn't exactly the princess move. "Y/n... What did they do to you? Why would you join such evil people? I told you what they did to me and many families when we were on your planet."

You sent her a look of confusion. "Listen lady, I don't know what your trying to pull but I don't know you and you don't know me." "That's Queen to you." The short one says angrily as she balls her hand into a fist with sparkles coming out of it. Angella's looks crestfallen as not one ounce of recognition shone through your eyes. She walks up and presses her hand against the magical barrier that was keeping you trapped. "What have they done to you?"

#angella x reader #angella x daughter!reader #she ra and the princesses of power x reader #she ra and the princesses of power #spop #spop x reader #x reader

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ceealaina · 4 years ago

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Title: What's New Pussycat? Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card: 4008 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - Image: Uh, Kitties Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: Romantic Fluff, Domestic Summary: After crashing through a wall at the Bad Guy Lair of the Week, Tony finds cats. A lot of cats. And entire roomful of cats. Apparently Avengers Tower is now a shelter for cats as well as superheroes... Word Count: 1829

So maybe -- maybe -- Tony had just very slightly overestimated his abilities in handling this fight without backup. Or maybe he’d underestimated the number of bad guys. But either way it was okay. It was fine, he was fine, everything was fine. He had it all totally under control.

And he totally believed that. Right up until, in taking out what he really hoped was the last bad guy, he’d found himself thrown through a wall, because of course he had.

For a minute Tony just let his eyes fall shut beneath the faceplate, waiting for JARVIS to run scans and make sure there wasn’t somebody waiting to whallop him with a bulldozer, or something else stupid. It had been a long day and a longer fight, and while there were no serious injuries, he ached in places he hadn’t even known he’d had. All he wanted right now was to go home, have a drink, and then take a long, hot bath with the jets on extra strong, and then maybe sucker one of the various supersoldiers he had running around his house into giving him a backrub and --

“Uh, sir?”

JARVIS interrupted the very nice daydream Tony was developing with a tentative tone that had Tony groaning.

“What is it, J? Another five hundred of them in the basement?”

“Not exactly, sir.”

But before JARVIS could explain, Tony heard the sound for himself, faint little squeaking noises filtering through the speakers of the armour. He looked up and his eyes went wide as he took in what he was looking at.

“Uh, kitties?”

“It appears so.”

Lots and lots of kitties, in fact, perched in little cubbies lining the walls of the room he’d crashed into -- thankfully it didn’t seem any had been injured with his abrupt entrance, so there was that, at least. They were viewing him with various degrees of curiosity, and as Tony was still trying to get his bearings, one of them hopped down. He lifted his hand on instinct, and the cat wound her little body around him, rubbing her chin on his fingers. Tony blew out a breath.

“Oh boy.”

***

“Okay, so Honeybear, don’t be mad.”

Tony met Rhodey at the door with an extra-large coffee and his flirtiest smile; in retrospect probably not his best first move, because nothing was going to make Rhodey more suspicious.

Rhodey hesitated before stepping inside, eyes narrowed at Tony. “What did you do?”

“Seriously! Steve already yelled at me once today, which is just ridiculous really because I actually didn’t even do anything wrong this time, and it’s not like he still has allergies or anything. Really, if anyone’s the injured party here, it’s me.”

“I didn’t yell at you, Tony!” Steve called from somewhere near the kitchen. “We just had a serious conversation about making executive decisions without consulting the rest of the team.”

Tony waved an arm like that was the same thing. “Who pays the rent, Steven?” he shot back.

Rhodey just pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in a deep breath. “Tony,” he said, trying to get him to refocus on the actual issue at hand. “What. Did you. Do?”

Tony gave him a guilty smile in lieu of actually answering, and then started to lead him down the hall. “I just want you to know that I didn’t have a lot of other options. There was nowhere else to take them, Rhodey. I couldn’t just dump them all on the street. And they were doing weird things to them, Honeybear. Cloning them and god knows what else, and sure I took out the bad guys, but what if it was the shell of a larger company, huh? I wasn’t going to leave them there!”

Tony could tell that Rhodey was bracing himself for the worst, so rather than trying to explain further he just led Rhodey into the room he’d converted for his purposes. It was supposed to have been a gym, initially, but then he’d realized the extent of Steve’s abilities and he’d repurposed an entire floor for the gym instead, leaving this space empty. It had been mostly used for storage since, so it hadn’t been too hard to convert it into--

“Holy shit,” Rhodey muttered as he opened the door, revealing all the kitties, some of the playing, some of them eating, some of them snuggled up for a good, long nap, or perched on the window watching the day go by. “Tony, did you start a cat shelter?”

“Uh…” Tony couldn’t tell if Rhodey was impressed or horrified, which wasn’t a great start. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not exactly?”

Rhodey arched an eyebrow, but Tony was pretty sure he could see a slight smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “So what, exactly, is it?”

“I told you, I couldn’t just leave them there! And do you know how overcrowded the shelters are in this city? Nobody could take this kind of influx, not even if I spread it around. I could have covered the costs -- would have covered the costs -- but they still wouldn’t have the space. So… Easier to just keep them here, right?” He gave Rhodey his best smile. “Just think of it like a foster home, just until we find them all permanent homes.”

“We?”

“They!” Tony corrected quickly. “I’ve got a contact at the shelter. They’re working on it, but you know, there’s kinda a lot so it might take a bit. Come on Honeybear, it’s not like I’m going to keep them. You know me, I’m much better with electronic babies than real ones.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes, but he was fully grinning now, and when one of the cats came to wind herself around his ankles, he immediately reached down to give her neck scratches, setting off a loud barrage of purrs. “You’re such a doofus,” he told Tony, but his voice was all affection.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed, grinning back at him. “That’s what Steve said too.”

***

The thing was, while he never made a big deal about, Tony knew that Rhodey had always loved animals. He’d seen the monthly donations on Rhodey’s credit card bill (and had tripled them anonymously), he’d seen the way he’d choked up over the abandoned animals commercials on television, and he’d been in the car that time he’d nearly killed them while successfully avoiding a squirrel. (Rhodey swore that it hadn’t been that close, but Tony knew the truth.)

So it wasn’t exactly surprising when Rhodey “accidentally” got well and truly invested in taking care of all the cats, making sure they were fed and watered, that the bot Tony had designed kept their litter boxes cleaned, and that they had lots of play and snuggle time. Neither of them had ever had pets before -- it hadn’t really been conducive to their lifestyles -- but Tony loved watching Rhodey interact with them. He was already soft as hell for the man, falling more in love with him practically every time he looked at him, but something about watching Rhodey interact with the clowder of cats made Tony fall even that much harder.

He also wasn’t oblivious to the way Rhodey’s face would fall a little each time one of kitties left for their new home, the way he’d cuddle the remaining cats just a little closer the next time he was visiting them. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for them, of course he was. And of course deep down he’d know that they wouldn't all be able to stay. But Tony knew his husband, knew how little it took for him to adopt someone -- that was, after all, how they’d ended up together in the first place. So it wasn’t surprising that Rhodey had mentally adopted every single one of the cats.

They were down to only seven cats left when Tony snuck into the room one day, intending to ask Rhodey something that had seemed important at the time, only to find him sitting in an armchair, facing out over the city with his favourite kitty snuggled into his arms (not that he’d ever admit to having favourites, but Tony knew). He was talking away to her, telling her how beautiful she was, how they’d be sure to find her the best home, somewhere really special, and Tony felt his heart melt. He snuck right back out again, waiting until he was safely out of earshot before speaking up.

“JARVIS? I need you to order some supplies.”

***

It wasn’t too much longer before the rest of the cats had been adopted, all except for the one that definitely wasn’t Rhodey’s favourite, even though he kept turning down adopters for her, and had already named her Einstein. Tony loved Rhodey, but he was such a dumbass sometimes. (Yeah, yeah, pot, kettle, shut up JARVIS.)

Tony had waited until Rhodey had some meetings that he couldn’t put off, pretended he was on a lab binge, and then the second that Rhodey was gone he’d rushed down to the cat room to get everything ready. It didn’t take much to close everything up, sneak Einstein out -- she really was a sweet little thing -- and then plunk himself on the couch in time for Rhodey to get back.

As predicted, Rhodey headed for the cat room almost immediately upon his return, barely even offering Tony a wave on his way by. If Tony hadn’t known his husband so well, he might have been offended. Almost immediately Rhodey was sliding back out of the room, eyes wide.

“Tones? Have you seen Einstein?”

Tony feigned a neutral expression, but he knew he was doing a terrible job of hiding his dumbass smile, stupidly pleased with himself. “Oh, uh… She was adopted. While you were gone.”

Rhodey, apparently, had missed his smile altogether. “What? When? By who?? I’m supposed to have veto privileges. I didn’t even meet them, Tones!” o

“Oh my god,” Tony groaned, rolling his eyes. “You ruin everything.” He was still grinning through, and he got up to reach behind the couch, picking up the little cat pet that Einstein was snoozing in, all dressed up with a red and yellow ribbon. “She was adopted by you, dipshit. Surprise.”

Rhodey stopped dead. “Oh,” he managed. And then he broke out into a wide smile, moving to take Einstein, now blinking at him sleepily. “Wait, really? She’s ours?”

“Ye-es…” Tony narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. “You’re in charge of her litter box, though. I’m not doing that.”

Rhodey just burst out laughing, bright and happy, and Tony couldn’t help beaming at the sound of it. “God, I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too.” Tony stuck his tongue out at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute though, cause god, you’re dumb.”

Rhodey didn’t even protest, just reached out and hauled Tony in for a tight hug, holding him close until Einstein gave an indignant meow of protest from between them.

@tonystarkbingo

#tonystarkbingomiv #tsbmiv #ironhusbands #tony stark #james rhodes #fluff #romance #domestic #fic #my fic

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puckngrind · 4 years ago

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What’s In a Name: Finale- J. Toews

Chapter 16.

Where we left off: Jon and Bekah got married in Sedona and are off to their honeymoon after the Blackhawks convention.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 4,390

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Final.

When Jon finally let it slip they were honeymooning in Iceland after the convention, Bekah was unsure of her husband’s thought process. She expected some beach vacation with their own bungalow but what she got was way more their style. They stayed up to take in the midnight sun, snorkeled in a fault line, skinny dipped in a natural hot spring and made out like no one was watching under a waterfall. They were so hot for each other the couple even missed a guided tour simply because they lost track of time and didn’t get out of bed. Married life was good even with the season starting. Right before training camp Jon drops a package on the counter and retreats to the fridge.

“Tae, whatcha order?” Bekah sipped one her later afternoon coffee.

“Rings.” Jon’s voice echoed from inside the fridge.

“Huh?”

“Take a look Beks.” Jon closes the door and motions towards the package. Inside were maybe a dozen or more silicone bands. “For practice and games, working out... you know when I have the potential of ripping off my finger with the real one.”

“Jon, you didn’t have to... I mean, it’s fine if you go ringless at work.” Bekah sips her coffee and smiles. “As long as you only come home to me.” Jon rounded the counter, pulls out one of the silicone bands, removes his wedding ring and places it on his left ring finger.

“It’s only been you since 2015, Beks, and it will only be you until the day I die.” His lips press firmly onto hers. “I want to have the constant reminder that I have the best wife ever to come home to.” His lips graze hers again.

“Not sure I deserve that reward yet, maybe in a year?” Bekah giggles into Jon’s skin.

Brynn came with Derek when the Blue Jackets played in Chicago. The two hadn’t seen each other since they left Arizona in July. “I still cannot believe you two are married, so damn in love it’s sick, and have these breathtaking wedding pictures already hanging up. I think it took a month to even get our proofs back let alone a framed picture and you have this on a giant canvas.” Brynn’s finger points to Bekah’s favorite picture. Jon’s arms wrapped her, lips pressed to her cheek as her vail flies in the wind. The fact that she doubted being about to get to the spot where they took the picture is funny looking back. She was thankful Jon pushed for it.

It was Christmas before they knew it. The families decided to give the newlyweds the actual holiday to themselves again and came together the weekend before. Bekah told Jon there better not be any surprise gifts in, on, or under the tree. On Christmas Eve she came down the steps to see a blanket laid out in front of the tree with the fire going.

“What’s this Tae?” She kisses her husband who looked pleased with himself.

“I thought we should have our own Christmas tradition that we could do when we have kids.” He dips down and scoops up the wine glasses. “Maybe without the wine.” Bekah sips her glass and takes in the small details Jon put into this picnic.

“Sounds perfect!” They sat down and talked all about the holidays, break, and how the season was going.

“I know you are going home for New Years but very much want my wife with me in Calgary to ring in 2020.” Jon stands to move the plates and wine glasses.

“J, I don’t see why I couldn’t just cut my home trip short?” Bekah leans on her hands watching Jon’s reaction.

“Really? I know you miss it.” He kneels next to her.

“Not as much as I did. Plus, I want to ring in 2020 with you just didn’t want to mess up team bonding.” Jon laughs a little and moves his body on top of hers.

“I think the guys will understand why.” Jon presses his lips to hers and Bekah moans out.

“Wanna go upstairs?” She whispers when their lips break for air.

“Fuck no.” Jon lifts up and pulls off both of their clothes wasting no time making sure Bekah was ready before pressing into her. His movements were slow and intentional. Pulling Bekah’s legs high up so she had to move her hands from pulling at his back to holding her legs up. Jon humming in pure love of the moment. Taking in their highs together Jon still holding tight into his wife.

“So is this also a Christmas tradition there, Tae?” Bekah’s breaths were short as she laughed.

“I think so. Maybe before Santa arrives.” He snickers as he lifts up and grabs another blanket to wrap around them.

“Is Santa coming to our house this year? Dropping off any surprises?” Bekah combs her fingers through Jon’s hair as he lays on her chest.

“Nope. Well, house hunting...” Jon felt Bekah’s reaction to his statement. “We can stay here if you want. It’s up to you.”

They didn’t. Soon after Jon and Bekah returned from Columbus and Calgary the couple found the perfect house close to the city. Moving during the season seemed to be a daunting task but Bekah managed to get the essentials unpacked and hired painters and such to make their home feel like them. All-Star weekend the couple found themselves at home in Winnipeg.

“Beks?” Jon called out after coming in from a run. Bekah told Jon she was going to make cookies while he was gone. “Babe?” He wandered the house and sees her still with her shoes on in bed asleep. He sits down next to her and brushes the hair out of her face. “You okay?” His eyebrows knit together knowing his wife was not a nap type of person however many times he begged her to nap pre-game with him.

“Yeah, just got super tired that’s all.” Bekah’s voice was groggy.

“Yeah, you left the dough out on the counter.” Jon slips back behind her. “Do you think you are coming down with something?” He presses his lips to the back of her head.

“I don’t think so. Maybe... oh... well. Um. Shit. What day is it?” Bekah lifts up suddenly.

“The 23rd. Why Bekah?” Jon sits up behind her.

“I’m two weeks late.” Bekah’s hand covers her mouth realizing what that could mean.

“You mean like late late? As in...” Jon’s arms wrap around Bekah.

“Like maybe you would go get a test... or three.” She looks back at him and she shuffles to his feet and heads to the store. The smell of cookies hit his nose when he walked back in the door. Bekah icing the batch that had cooled.

“So, I know we said we would let nature take its course but that was in November.” Bekah nods, licks the icing off her finger and grabs the bag.

The two waited for the longest two minutes of their lives sitting on the bathroom floor. Bekah’s head rested on Jon’s shoulder. Jon’s hand picked up the stick from the counter. “Ready...” he whispers and Bekah’s shoulders shrug. “Pregnant. Beks!” Jon’s voice picked up and he jumped to his feet placing the test on the counter and scooping his wife into his arms kissing her skin as he walks.

“Tae, what are you doing?” Bekah questions.

“Celebrating knocking my sexy wife up in the first try!” Jon drops Bekah onto the bed and crowds her. Ridding himself of his shirt and pulling on hers.

“It could be a false positive.” Bekah’s hands land on Jon’s chest.

“It’s not.” Jon retorts. “For as long I’ve known you, your cycle has been the most predictable thing about you.” Jon manages to pull Bekah’s shirt off and kisses down to her stomach. “Salut bébé, c'est ton papa.” He whispers into her skin the looks up to see Bekah’s face. “Sorry, maybe I should...” Jon goes to move thinking he changed the mood and Bekah’s hands catch his shoulders.

“Tae, that was a damn turn on. Please... continue.” Jon winks up at her and presses his tongue to her folds lapping up how incredibly wet she was. Bekah’s orgasm ripping through her body like a ball of fire. Her body jolting up away from his mouth which was still working it’s magic.

“Holy shit. J, I need more.” Bekah panted out and Jon’s mouth met her chest as he laid her back down pressing his length deep inside eliciting moans as he rocked.

“Oh. Beks. Beks. I...” Jon huffs as Bekah pulls her body up into his and feels him explode deep inside of her sending shockwaves through out her body. “I love you.” Jon whispers while crashing into her body.

“Same but you are crushing my pelvis.” Bekah wiggles and Jon jumps off her quickly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You are carrying our child.” His hand grazes her stomach.

“Potentially. I need to schedule an appointment for when we are back.” She reaches for her phone and Jon’s hand catches her arm.

“Does your brain ever shut off My Love?” Jon kisses her. “No is the answer. And I want to go. Can you schedule around me?”

Soon after their return home, Jon and Bekah found themselves in her OBGYN’s office listening to their child’s heartbeat. A tear streaming down Jon’s face as Bekah held his hand tight. On the drive home, Bekah broke the comfortable silence. “Can we wait to tell people including family until the second trimester?” Jon’s thumb rubs the back of her hand as he drives.

“Whenever you want Beks.” Jon’s delight evident in his tone.

“I want to tell Rin first but don’t exactly know how.” Bekah inhales quickly as Jon sighs. Brynn and Derek would be the perfect parents but after too many miscarriages to count and an undetermined infertility diagnosis they just stopped trying. Getting pregnant so quickly was going to crush her best friend and she knew it. She watched Brynn at coworker’s baby showers. She hid the pain well but Bekah saw it.

She wanted to tell her best friend in person. What she didn’t expect was the pause and quarantine. Jon came home early March talking about the NHLPA and on the phone not realizing Bekah was laying in the middle of the floor. He stands over her and smiles. “My beautiful wife okay down there?”

“Fat wife that is. And no. They said you could have morning sickness and mine was mid-afternoon sickness which is for the birds THEN they said you feel better in your second trimester and welp... my body feels like I ran a damn marathon and I just moved the rug three feet over. How was your discussion with those people?” Bekah waves her hand around and Jon laughs.

“They want to start zoom calls so I have to think where I could do it here. Plus I think we can go home to Manitoba for a bit if you feel already.”

“Yeah, do it in the kitchen so you don’t have the blow job angle your team Canada buddy did yesterday. I need to call Rin. My body isn’t hiding this baby much longer.” Jon lays down next to her and kisses her cheek.

“Blow job angles. Funny. I don’t need anyone but you thinking of that.” He rolls her body on top of his and she sits up with his hands on her hips. “And you, Mrs. Toews and more beautiful now than the day we met.” Jon’s thumbs rub the small bump appearing on her lower abdomen.

Bekah buzzed around the house while Jon sat on the zoom call. She dropped her phone when she heard him answer the question about what he’s been up to since the last game. After the call ended she stands next to him. “When is that call being published?” Bekah asks with an annoyance in her voice.

“They said in a few days, why Beks?” Jon pulls her into his lap.

“Because you just fucking told the world I’m pregnant and I haven’t even told our families.” Jon’s eyes blow wide.

“Oh fuck! I... I... I didn’t even think about it.” His hand covers his face.

“I need to go FaceTime Rin.” Bekah kissed her regretful husband and retreated to their bedroom.

“How’s my bestie doing in quarantine?” Brynn didn’t even say hi. “What’s that face for?” Bekah sighed.

“I wanted to do this in person so I could hold your hand but damn Covid and shit.” Bekah starts.

“You are pregnant aren’t you?” Brynn pulls a smile across her face.

“How did ya?” Bekah’s eyebrow shoots up. “I am. Due mid-September.”

“I knew you looked different in December but couldn’t place it. You were barely pregnant weren’t you?” Brynn feels the tears coming.

“Yeah. Rin. I... I... I’m sorry.” Bekah whispers.

“Bekah, you don’t have to be sorry. I’m so happy for you and cannot wait to be Auntie Rin!” Brynn wipes her eyes.

“Oh Rin.” Bekah sniffles. “I didn’t know how you would take this.” The friends talked a little more before Bekah hung up and called Kelly who squealed while jumping then realized Bekah’s odd questions in February were pregnancy related. When she returned to Jon he was laying on the couch she asked him to move. “Your parents or mine first?”

“Together?” Jon laughed and they both FaceTimed their mom’s who were overjoyed at the news about being grandparents. Marie had tons of questions regarding Bekah and the baby’s safety while the Toews were busy talking to Jon about their trip home and if Bekah would be safe on the lake’s ice.

With permission from her doctor, the couple returned to Canada and Jon enjoyed rare times with his family but soon realized the couple needed to return to the states. Jon was constantly on the phone with negotiations about return to play throughout the summer. Laying in bed one night with his head on her growing belly, Bekah could feel he was holding something back.

“Tae, talk. What’s up? She ran her hands through his growing hair that she secretly loved while everything was shut down.

“We’ve been talking about a return to play and that players could opt out. I think I should since with the baby coming. I would be gone for most of your last trimester.” Jon kisses and turns his attention. “Momma won’t let me open the envelope that says if you are a boy or girl. Maybe you could help me out, huh?” Bekah laughs hard that her belly moves.

“I told you with everything else the way it is having a little surprise wouldn’t hurt anyone. We bought the essentials and Kelly swears her kids were in the white onesies, or naked and wrapped up in a blanket for the first few weeks. Eating, pooping, and sleeping.” Jon looks up resting his chin on her stomach.

“Fine. I’ll wait. We already have enough Hawks stuff to last about a week. Plus the girls are ready to socially distance pounce on you once the baby does come. I do have an important question for you?”

“Yeah?”

“When is sex off the table?” He bites his lip and Bekah shakes her head.

“Depends on how I feel and where the baby is plus you don’t want to induce labor too early.”

“Soooo.... we can still?” Jon’s eyebrows dance.

“You want to sex this up? With my swollen ankles and clothes that no longer fit...”

“You don’t need clothes for what I want to do with you.” Jon lays next to his wife and pulls her face to his. “You are beautiful.” He deepens his kiss and she moans.

“I just look fat Tae.” Bekah recoils. “Plus, I need a shower.” She moves and Jon follows.

“I’ll join you.” He pulls her body into his while walking to their shower.

“You seriously want to have sex with me?” She looks at her naked body in the mirror and over to Jon noticing he was already hard.

“Not much has changed from last week when I wore your thighs at earmuffs.” Jon turned on the shower and lead her under the water. He could physically see Bekah’s shoulders relax under the warm water. Pulling her breasts into his hands he massaged gently. “Tell me if it’s too much okay Beks” He kissed the back of her neck and his fingers found her entrance. Using the edge of the shower, Bekah pulled her leg up for easier access to her clit as Jon kissed her skin.

“Tae.” She breathed out feeling an orgasm building then she felt the baby. “Jon!” Her hand went to her stomach. “Feel.” She brought his hand to her belly and Jon felt their child kick his hand.

“Oh wow! That is maybe the coolest feeling ever.” Jon kisses Bekah and she feels his hardened cock on her back. “Does that mean we stop, because...”

“No. I want you to fuck me.” Bekah turns around and Jon pulls her body up and slides her onto his length but cannot get situated enough. “take me to be bed.” She breathed out.

“Wet?” He questioned as he pulls out.

“Yes.” She wraps her arms around him and he carries them to the bed. Laying her down carefully and pressing into her as she moves her legs to feel all of him. With just a few thrusts, Bekah’s orgasm crashes over her and she feels the baby fluttering inside. “Can I finish you off orally?” She pants.

“You don’t have to Beks. I’m fine.” She wiggled from under him and he falls onto the mattress. “Beks... really... I’m... holy fuck. Don’t stop.” Jon soon changed his mind when Bekah’s lips wrapped tight around him and he hit the back of her throat. Sliding easily up and down his length Jon breathed out his approval of her actions and quickly spilled down her throat. Bekah pops her lips and wipes her mouth as she retreats. “I have no words.” Jon huffs out and stares up at Bekah who is now rubbing her stomach.

“Now can you get up so we can change the sheets and go to bed. This momma to be is tired.” Bekah stands and Jon strips the wet bed before cuddling his wife.

With somewhat of an argument, Brynn came to Chicago as Jon entered the bubble. Jon kissed Bekah’s belly as was leaving, “You cannot make an entrance into the world until Daddy returns or Momma enters the bubble. Either way, hang out. Make sure Momma listens to Auntie Rin and cheer on the Hawks.” Jon lifts up and wraps his arms around his wife. “Tu es toujours avec moi, mes amours.” Jon kisses her then pulls away to see the tears build in her eyes. “Always with me.” Jon gives instructions to Brynn to make sure Bekah keeps to the doctor’s orders and she calls him if anything happens.

“Go kick some Oiler ass Babe!” Bekah giggles trying to contain her emotions.

“Why does he have to look so damn sexy and I cannot touch him. You know these girls are falling all over him.” Bekah watched the coverage of Jon walking into the arena while Brynn painted her toe nails.

“And that man only has eyes for you.” Brynn smiled seeing the the way Bekah contorts her face.

“Yeah, some hot ass media girl is much sexier than the fat cow he left at home.” Bekah rubs her belly that has grown to the point that she cannot see her feet.

“Sorry friend, this whole negative self talk has to be your hormones because everyone in the world knows how much that man loves you. Did you see the picture from last game? You could see your wedding picture on his lock screen.”

“Did he look that good when he left? And the way he is playing is so fucking sexy.” Bekah looks at her phone. “Sorry, baby bird. Momma will be filtering herself when you arrive next month.” Brynn laughs.

“He will call. He always does.” And like magic Bekah’s phone rings. Since entering the bubble Jon calls to talk to the baby once a day, and will call Bekah before she goes to bed and before he goes on the ice.

“There is my girl!” Jon’s voice booms out of the speaker.

“Hey Tae! Could you talk to the league and see if they could I don’t know, move your game’s start time before my bedtime?” This makes both Jon and Brynn laugh. “I watch you when I get up to pee at around 11 but I hate missing the games live.

“Sure, I’ll just call Gary myself and request a game time change.” The three laugh.

“I love you, Tae. Good luck tonight and go kick some ass.” She kisses at the phone.

“I love you, two.” He blows her a kiss and hangs up to the sounds of heaving coming from Bekah’s feet.

“Yeah, if they lose and he comes home I foresee your labor starting.”

“Rin, that would be a month early!” Bekah squeaks out.

“I call it like I see it. And that man is gonna want his wife when he returns.” Bekah covered her eyes then starts googling sex in the third trimester.

Jon was home three and a half weeks after he left for Edmonton. Brynn stayed through the week and then drove back to Ohio with the promise she would be back when Baby Toews was born. Bekah’s due date came and she was still pregnant.

“This baby is NEVER leaving.” Bekah walked the stairs for the 10th time that day.

“You’ve made it comfortable. They want to stay FOREVER.” Jon laughs while he indulges in his dessert concoction he only eats off season.

“I think I’ve tried everything but sex.” Bekah leans on the counter and presses her hips back to relive the pressure. Jon drops the spoon from his mouth.

“Well, I can fucking help with that.” He pulls Bekah’s arm and practically pushes her up the stairs. Leaning against the headboard he pats his lap. “Climb aboard the let’s meet our baby Jonny train.” He laughs and Bekah scoffs.

“Your dad jokes are just gonna get worse, aren’t they?” She removes her shorts and climbs onto Jon’s lap.

“Yup! Now, can we get rid of this?” He pulls off her old t-shirt that is stretched around her belly. “And can I play with these? I don’t think they will belong to me soon.” Jon leans up to suck in her nipple while cupping her other breast. Bekah lets go of a gasp.

“Too much.” She whispered and lifts herself up. Jon’s hands hold her helps as she lowers herself onto his length. She presses her hips forward with a sound that was both pleasure and pain. “It’s not gonna take much to make me.” “Oh good. Me either.” Jon pulls her hips forward as her belly hits his abs. He thrusts slightly up and Bekah goes to move.

“I think if we stand.” She stands to her feet and Jon comes behind her.

“Ready?” He whispered and she nods. The grunts and moans fill the room quickly. The pain of her hips and full term baby sitting on her organs was forgotten as their highs crash over them. Jon leans over and kisses her shoulder blades while he pulls out. The two stand there for a moment evening out their breaths. “Beks, did you just pee?” Jon jumps back.

“No. My water just broke.” Bekah turns and gives Jon a look. “I need to shower I cannot give birth smelling like sex.” Jon laughs.

“You do that, I’ll go load the car. Unless you need me?” He had slight panic sound in his voice that was laced with excitement. Bekah giggled as she waddled to the shower and Jon grabbed the bags out of the nursery Brynn helped finish while he was gone.

The hospital was waiting for them as they arrived. Jon started a group text to their moms, Brynn, Kelly, and Alyssa. Jon sat in the rocking chair waiting for her next contraction. “You are a rockstar you know?” Bekah looks over at him while flipping the channel on the tv. “Nothing like the movies or tv. You haven’t called me a bastard or anything.” He smirks at her.

“While I don’t plan on it... I have pushed this giant headed Toews baby out my vagina yet.” Bekah sees Jon’s Adam’s apple bob. “And for the sake of our sex life, maybe you shouldn’t watch.” Jon stands and hold her hand preparing for the next contraction. She squeezes.

“Oh no, I want to see it all. Cut the cord. And I’ll still find you sexy as hell. You are bringing our child into the world. I will be impatiently waiting for the doctor to clear you.” Bekah rolls her eyes as the doctor comes in.

“It’s go time here!” The doctor looks up and Jon and and Bekah look each other with excitement. Bringing a child into the world during a pandemic was difficult but when the moment came and it was just the two of them there was a calmness washed over them. Bekah crushed Jon’s hand and forearm pushing but he didn’t mind. When the doctor said one more for the shoulders, Jon leaned over his wife’s leg and watched the most incredible thing in the entire world. In a spilt second his world completely changed.

“Tae, is it a boy or a girl?” Bekah whispers out of breath looking at Jon’s face and the tears welling up.

“It’s a boy, Beks.” He was handed the scissors and cut the cord. The nurse patted him dry and goes to hand him to Bekah. “Daddy holds him first.” She points and the nurse places Jon’s son in his arms.

“Time of birth, 1am, September 19th.” The nurse announces.

“It’s the 19th, Jon!” Bekah looks up at Jon as he passes the baby to his wif. She holds her son to her chest and kisses his head.

“Does baby boy Toews have a name?” The doctor asks as the couple looks at each other and in unison answer...

“Lincoln.”

The End.

#What's in a name fic #WIAN #WIAN finale #tazer me 19 #love a damn blackhawk 🤦🏻‍♀️#jonathan toews #Jonathan Toews fic #j toews #happens in the 2019-2020 season

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amanda-teaches · 5 years ago

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Til Death Do Us Part? (3)

Series Summary: At a work party with your best friend, Dean, you panic when your new boss asks if you’re couple. Lying to protect your promotion, you wind up fake engaged before you can take it back. When Dean agrees to go along with your lie for a weekend retreat, you end up finding something neither of you had bargained for: love.

Chapter Summary: After your near kiss on the horses, you are more awkward than ever around Dean. What will the arrival of the executives bring? Surprisingly, just the thing you need to push your relationship to the next level.

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Square filled: Mutual Pining for @spnfluffbingo

Word Count: 2220

Warnings: Swearing, a touch of angst, fluff, Dean cuteness, YEARNING, kissing

A/N: Okay, it’s Chapter 3 and we’re finally getting somewhere! But, don’t worry if you love the slow burn, because these two are idiots, so it isn’t anywhere near over yet. Let me know what you think! I’d love to see your thoughts on what’s been happening and where you think it’s going. Tags are open for this series!

Til Death Do Us Part? Masterlist

The first part of your ride back to the hotel was spent in relative silence, the awkwardness from the meadow still lingering in the air, but, true to form, Dean quickly perked up, moving past it to start a long, passionate rant about one of his favorite Western shows, The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s got everything, cowboys, bounty hunters, weird futuristic technology used by a evil guy to take over the world.” He paused dramatically, giving you a pointed look. “John Astin. Listen, Y/N/N, it’s criminally underrated.”

You laughed, mostly humoring him because this was far from the first time you’d heard this particular rant. “I’m sure it is, Dean.”

The stables, and hotel in the distance, came into view, and you hesitated, wondering if you should broach the topic of your near kiss before the ride ended. Glancing over at Dean, you quickly reconsidered and chickened out. For all you knew, he hadn’t interpreted it the same way at all and would be completely freaked out if you mentioned it. In fact, the more you thought about it, the more you were sure he hadn’t. Dean didn’t have any romantic feelings for you, so there was no way he’d really been just about to kiss you.

As your eyes shifted back to the horizon, the ring you were wearing caught the sunlight, and you felt a pit of guilt sink into your stomach. You couldn’t tell him. Dean had already done more than enough, and he certainly didn’t need or deserve to deal with whatever one-sided feelings you were developing.

Once you arrived at the stables, Dean helped you dismount, putting his hands on your waist to stabilize you while you jumped down. With Dean’s expert assistance, you quickly unsaddled and brushed down the horses, before putting them back into their stalls.

Dean grinned and grabbed your hand as you stepped outside the door for the short walk back to the hotel. He interlaced his fingers with yours, and you had to take a deep breath, reminding yourself that it was all just an act. He was just playing the part, a part that, for you at least, was blurring more and more with every touch.

When you got back to the hotel, you noticed that there were more cars parked outside, signalling that at least some of the executives had arrived. You tightened your hold on Dean’s hand, and he smiled back at you, helping to ease some of your nervousness.

Once you made it inside, you saw Clarissa right away, and she rushed over to you, her excitement practically spilling over. “Y/N! You made it!”

“Yes,” you said, your voice spiking a little as she pulled you into an unexpected hug. “Um, you remember my fiance, Dean.” You couldn’t help but relish the way those words sounded on your tongue.

“Yes, yes!” she exclaimed, pulling a stiffened Dean into his own hug. “And, this is my husband, Robert,” she continued, waving over a stately looking man in his 50s, his hair tinged with gray.

“Clari, baby, stop stifling the kids. Your smothering is going to scare them right off.” His welcoming smile and twinkling eyes made you warm to him right away. “Don’t mind my wife. She gets a little overzealous when she’s vacationing on company time.”

“Don’t we all,” you laughed, happy just from the fact that you were the one on the receiving end of your boss’ excitement instead of Stuart. You could handle a few extra hugs this weekend if that’s what it took to get your promotion.

Clarissa clapped her hands together, ignoring her husband’s jokey apology all together. “Oh, Y/N, Dean, I have to introduce you to the other couples!”

She grabbed your hand before you could say anything and dragged you over towards the group on the other side of the lobby. You looked pleadingly over your shoulder at Dean for help, but he just raised his eyebrows at you, smiling amusedly, and shrugged, choosing to hang back with the relative safety of Robert instead.

Traitor.

You were pretty sure you got whiplash with how fast Clarissa skidded to a stop, her hold on your hand sending you lurching forward. Thankfully, you caught yourself and straightened up. As you stared at the six people gathered in front of you, the only thought you had was that you hoped to God your sweat from the horse ride had dried.

“Y/N, this is Joshua Klein, our head of operations, and his wife Delia, Amy Dunn, our management director, and her husband, Thomas, and, of course, you know our company president, Ben Yates, and his husband, Oliver.”

You nodded, still a little too starstruck to respond. You had no idea the company retreat with the “higher ups” would include the head of the company himself.

Ben reached out his hand, shaking yours with a warm smile. “Y/N, it’s so good to meet you. Clarissa’s been telling us some wonderful things. She seems to think you’re quite the rising star in our company.”

Holy shit, he knew your name.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Stunned, you blinked a few times, trying to think of a response, any response other than unintelligible noises, but nothing came out. Luckily, Dean was there to save you.

“Yeah, she’s something else alright,” he chuckled, moving to stand beside you. “I’m pretty sure she lives and breathes work. You wouldn’t believe how many dinners I’ve lost to talk about project ideas and client needs.”

Ben’s husband, Oliver, laughed heartily. “Now, that’s something I can relate to.”

Everyone joined in, and Dean put his hand on the small of your back, giving you an anchor as he continued to talk, charming his way into the group with ease. You looked up at him, smiling softly, and you knew you’d definitely done one thing right this weekend. You’d picked him as your fiance.

That night, you were standing in your room, freshly showered and changed for dinner, but you didn’t make any effort to leave and join Dean and the others. Instead, you stared blankly into the mirror, frozen and wavering, unsure if you could really do this.

After a few minutes of silence, Dean opened the door and popped his head in to investigate your absence, concern flickering in his eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

You smiled, trying to put on a brave face, but the second you saw him, your walls crumbled. “Noo…” you stammered out, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this.”

He was by your side in a flash. “Hey, hey,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. You placed your head against his chest and began to cry, all of the stress and fear just pouring out of you. “Is this about the lie?”

“A little,” you choked out. “It’s everything. I mean, the freakin’ president of the company is here for, God’s sake. All the other couples are high level executives, and I’m just...me. I wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t lied, I shouldn’t be here.” Your voice dropped to a shame-filled whisper. “I don’t deserve to be here.”

“Hold up,” he said earnestly, stepping back slightly to look at you, his hands gripping your shoulders. “That’s a bunch of fucking bullshit, and you know it.”

That hadn’t been the response you expected at all, and the surprise of it startled out of your self-pity, your eyes widening at his bluntness. “But…”

He shook his head. “No buts. Y/N, you are the smartest, hardest working person I have ever met. Maybe you did have to tell a little white lie to get in here, but that has nothing to do with how fucking awesome you are at your job. Don’t you dare start to question yourself or your worth. You 100% deserve to be here. Do you think I’d be doing all this if I thought you didn’t?”

You considered his words for a second and shook your head, earning a smile from Dean.

“Damn straight. Now, you’re going to wipe your tears, go out there, and show those big shots exactly who you are, got it?”

“Got it,” you echoed, Dean’s tough love cutting right through and revitalizing you.

“Awesome,” he grinned, dropping his hands from your shoulders and spinning around to make his way back towards the door. He paused before he reached it, looking back at you with a smirk. “Oh, by the way, you look gorgeous.”

You beamed as he winked at you and left, and you knew you couldn’t wipe that smile off your face if you tried.

Dinner was a huge success.

Dean was there to back you up, of course, but you didn’t need him, impressing the group all on your own. You captivated their attention, with your big ideas about the company, passion for its clients, and quick humor. By the end of the night, all eight of them were eating out of the palm of your hand.

After dinner, the ten of you relocated to the lounge, Oliver pouring out drinks for everybody. You sat on the loveseat, and Dean sat down next to you, slinging his arm over your shoulders. You curled into him, the warmth from the alcohol making you feel just relaxed enough to let your guard down.

The company president, Ben, sat down across from you, regarding you with a reassuring smile. He exchanged knowing looks with Joshua, Amy, and Clarissa, who all smiled in return. “Y/N, I’m going to be frank with you. We had a lot of expectations coming into this trip. We’d heard good things about you, but all of us wanted to hold off and wait to see it for ourselves. And, I gotta say…” He paused so long, you were pretty sure he was deliberately trying to give you a heart attack. “You’ve blown them all away.”

Your eyes widened to match his smile, surprise finding its way to your face. “Really?”

Ben nodded, and the others all echoed the action, confirming his statement. “Really. In fact, we all discussed it, and we’d love it if you could be our new Vice President of Client Relations. You’d be working directly under Clarissa, managing all client relations teams and projects.”

This was it, your promotion, the one you’d been dreaming about and working towards for the past three years. It was really happening. You realized after Dean nudged you, that you hadn’t said anything, and you straightened up, busting yourself out of your shock. “Yes, yes! I would be honored. Thank you, thank you so much.”

“You earned it,” Joshua said with a sincere, kind smile. “Long before this trip.”

You turned to Dean, completely elated, and his grin was so proud and heartfelt, it made your heart swell even more. “You did it, Y/N/N! Guess I’m not the only one who believes in you.”

Instinctively, you leaned in to hug him, but you stopped, suddenly remembering your audience. That’s when you heard a soft chuckle from behind you.

“Oh, don’t stop on our account! This is your big moment. Go ahead and kiss him.”

Your eyes, still connected with Dean’s, flickered with a deep-rooted uncertainty, and you started to give into your fear, pulling back. But, before you could, you saw a flash of yearning dart through Dean’s eyes, like he was fighting to hold himself back just as much as you were. You resisted it, trying to convince yourself your mind was playing tricks on, but in the thrill of the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from giving in.

Knowing this might be your only chance, you threw caution to the wind, letting your feelings take over for once in your life. You grabbed his cheeks, pulling him closer until your lips met his. The second they connected, it felt like fireworks going off. Your whole body responded, and you tugged at his lower lip, moaning so softly, only he could hear. Your fingers tightened on his cheek, and he groaned deep in his throat, parting his lips before quickly moving them, pressing and pulling eagerly at yours.

You felt helpless and strong all at the same time to be able to get him to respond like that. He turned your brain and your body to mush, but you had enough frame of mind to pull back as his hand landed on your thigh, remembering where you were.

You looked around frantically at the others in the room, but if they’d seen how quickly the kiss escalated, they didn’t mention it, instead talking quietly amongst themselves. When you turned back to Dean, he was breathing heavily and staring at you, dumbfounded.

Unable to imagine his reaction as anything but appalled at the line you’d just crossed, you panicked, closing yourself off and sliding away from him, letting his hands fall from their places on your shoulder and thigh. Everything in you wanted to look back at him, to tell him how you felt, but you couldn’t, so you kept on staring straight ahead, willing your heartbeat to slow.

What you didn’t know was that, if you’d looked into Dean’s eyes at that very moment, you would’ve seen the exact same desire staring right back at you.

Forevers- @atc74 @babypieandwhiskey @be-amaziing @carryonmywaywardcaptain @deans-dirty-writer @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @dolphincliffs @edgeofreality35 @emoryhemsworth @focusonspn @hannahindie @heyitscam99 @impala-dreamer @impandagrl @karikatz12481 @katymacsupernatural @maddiepants @masksandtruths @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @mysterious-398 @ohmychuckitssamanddean @pinknerdpanda @roxyspearing @spnbaby-67 @squirrel-moose-winchester @wi-deangirl77 @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Dean Tags - @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @alexwinchester23 @dean-winchesters-bacon @flamencodiva @squirrelnotsam

Til Death Do Us Part?- @vicmc624 @wayward-gypsy @compresshischest09 @lottieellz101 @roonyxx @marvelouslysherlockedhunter @hardcoresupernatural

#spnfluffbingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean fluff #til death do us part?

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antique-traveler · 5 years ago

Text

your hand in my hand, so still and discreet

sequel to this post

Jaskier had gone to bed that night feeling rather queasy, to be frank. Although, to be even franker, he usually felt queasy after leaving a town the way they just had. In fairness, how was he possibly to know that that woman was married? And how in the world was he supposed to intuit that her husband would be 2 metres of solid muscle and ale stench? Really, he had no idea why everyone was so upset about the whole ordeal, it was only three nights, and only eight rounds, what was the big fuss? Especially Geralt. Jaskier didn’t have the slightest inkling as to why Geralt was angry with him (beyond the usual, of course: talking too much, touching too much, being a general nuisance). It wasn’t like Jaskier hadn’t had affairs before, or rather, like Jaskier hadn’t been the subject of the affairs before. Greta, or Nadia, or whatever her name was was merely another woman added to his long, long, oh-so-long list of conquests. Nonetheless, he, Geralt, and Roach had had to leave the village in a rush, no doubt leaving several things behind.

They ate their meager supper in silence, as they often did after departing in such a rush, and set up their bedrolls on opposite sides of their roaring campfire. Jaskier could feel Geralt’s eyes on his back for the entire night, and oh, such eyes. Such glimmering, smoldering, sparkling golden eyes that lay beneath his brows like nuggets of gold ore deep in a dwarven mine, surrounded by coarse stone and gravel, yet begging to be unearthed and shown to the world. Jaskier often wondered if Geralt noticed how much time he spent looking at those eyes- at all of him, really. True, he had those tricky Witcher senses that could hear two mice fucking three kilometres away, but he was also the most oblivious idiot to ever walk the Continent.

That night he revisited an old recurring dream, one that he hadn’t had in a long while, years, probably. He was a child, no more than a toddler, and his mother was placing something around his neck. Just as she finished, she was grabbed from behind and dragged into the flames surrounding them, screams echoing in his ears for what felt like months, clutching onto the token on his neck like it was his heart, like it was his life.

He woke up to his name.

“Jaskier!”

He opened his eyes with a grumble to see a very sharp sword pointed straight at his nose. He saw that Geralt was attached to the other end of it, and he recognized the hilt and the knuckleguard, but something was off about the blade itself. It was radiating this, this warmth and energy like it had just been pulled out of the forge. It scared Jaskier. Not quite as much as the look in Geralt’s eyes, though.

“Woah, Geralt! Don’t you think it’s a little early for this?”

“Fucking get up.” Something was wrong. As blunt and severe as Geralt was prone to be, he was never commanding to Jaskier. Never spoke to him as if he were a piece of livestock with a tendency to leave the herd and meander amongst the grasses of another shepherd’s pasture.

“I- I don’t understand what’s going on...”

“I said get up!” Okay, right, he means business. Jaskier pushed a hand under himself and tried to roll onto the balls of his feet, but something was immediately off. Instead of springing up with all the grace of a newborn giraffe as he usually did, he promptly fell backwards onto the ground, a strange new weight having attached itself to his back. As he let out a poignant and dignified “ow, shit!” he craned his neck to peek over his shoulders as best he could in his prone position.

Yeah, definitely something wrong. There was a large brown mound connected to each of his shoulders, each weighing twenty pounds at the very least. He pushed himself off the ground (compensating for the extra weight this time) and realized the only possible explanation: he’d been attacked by some vengeful monster attempting to wreak havoc on a Witcher and his poor bard as repayment for the slaying of his brethren. Jaskier, ever the poet, cried out, “What the fuck? Geralt, Geralt, get it off of me! What is this, a fucking drowner?” as he tried to rid himself of the pest by spinning himself around in graceful, nimble circles.

Geralt, stoic as ever, merely commanded, “Jaskier, shut the fuck up and look.”

Twirling himself around a few more times for flair and flair alone, Jaskier finally stood still and really studied the attachments to his back. Sure enough, it wasn’t a drowner (to be completely honest, Jaskier still didn’t quite know what a drowner looked like, even after all those years), wasn’t really anything he could identify before he tensed a muscle in his back. By the gods themselves, the thing moved with it. He tensed it some more, hardly even sparing it a thought, and the thing unfolded itself into a broad, feathered wing. He didn’t even realize his hands had drifted to his face until his hot breath reflected back into his already steaming eyes. He looked over the other shoulder and, sure enough, another wing unfolded itself entirely in accordance with Jaskier's will. He shuddered as he felt the breeze rush through the feathers and flow around the massive limbs expanding themselves from his back. His ear twitched and he noticed Geralt shift.

He lowered his hands and looked at his Witcher, not even bothering to hide the fear in his eyes. “Geralt, what happened to me?” Surely this had to be a curse, or a hex, or a jinx, or whatever other word there was for magical vengeance. Surely this had to be someone acting unfairly in anger and damning him to this freakish fate.

Geralt softened, rather uncharacteristically. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

All Jaskier could do now was keep doing what he could with these new wings, seeing if maybe they’d go away if he’d just flex hard enough. “I- I- I-”

Geralt dropped his sword and approached him tenderly. “Are you in pain?” Jaskier wasn’t expecting any sort of question like that. Accusations of lying? Certainly. Swearing and blame for this curse? Most definitely. But concern? Worry? Very bottom of Jaskier’s list of possible outcomes, that was for sure.

For a moment he pondered the question. Was he in pain? Was the adrenaline of this surprise clouding his senses and shielding him from agony? Or did this weight actually feel comfortable, familiar even? Did moving these wings come just as easily as dancing his fingers along his lute, or spilling nonsense words out into the air in the hopes that Geralt would take enough notice to even tell him off? Was not the feeling of the wind between his feathers an intimate, natural sensation? Jaskier searched for the words with which to present his thoughts. “I… no…” He looked up at Geralt in unashamed desperation. “It feels as if I’ve had them my whole life, really.”

Geralt sighed and ran a hand along his face while Jaskier trembled where he stood. “Did you make anyone particularly angry recently?” Like that was at all a helpful question. The day no one was mad at Jaskier was the day that Hell froze over and Geralt laughed. “Are you- are you missing anything?”.

Jaskier felt himself pale as he grappled for the medallion that once hung around his neck. He felt pieces to a puzzle revealing themselves in his brain, but he couldn’t connect them, couldn’t quite define their shape or what they might form. “Yes… yes, I had a- a medallion, my mother gave it to me.” He gave up all pretense of grace and composure and searched frantically amongst his and Geralt’s things. He looked under bedrolls, between doublets, within pockets, trying to remember its weight around his neck and its cool smoothness between his fingers.

“Jas- Jaskier,” Geralt coughed and looked away, showing embarrassment that Jaskier rarely got to see, “you might want to check your… arse.”

Exactly what he needed right now. An arse joke. The one time Geralt cracks wise and it’s during a time of significant emotional turmoil. “Geralt, I hardly think this is the time for joking-” He humoured Geralt by reaching onto his bum, but dropped his offended disposition as soon as he felt what Geralt was referring to. He reached down the waistline of his trousers and pulled out, inch by inch, a long brown tail, equal in length to his legs and covered in the sort of short hair that covers a horse, only with a graceful tuft of fur at the tip. He flexed the muscles in his lower back just as he had when he realized his control of his wings, and felt the humanity drip from his body onto the forest floor below as the tail swished and swayed behind his legs.

“Holy shit.” Just like before with his feathers, the brush of his tail against his calves was disturbingly familiar, unearthing emotions not quite yet remembered, but carrying with them a sense of yearning for a home long lost.

Geralt spoke up with astounding gentleness. “I’d guess there are two possible explanations here: either you’ve been cursed by some poor victim of your exploits, or that medallion was more important than you thought.”

“What are you saying, Geralt?”

“I’m saying that that might have been a glamour.”

Jaskier tried his very best to be threatening by unfolding his wings behind him and swishing his tail about. “A what?”

“A glamour. Like a… magical disguise.”

“A magical disguise for being what, a fucking bird?”

“No way to be sure for now, but we’d better find a mage to see if that’s the case.” The nerve on this man, insinuating that he was anything less than human. Although, in fairness, what little humanity he had left seemed to be disappearing before his very eyes.

Jaskier stood nearly frozen while Geralt packed their things. A breeze blew from behind him and brushed through his fingers and onto his recently-exposed bottom. He realized that half of his arse had been left hanging out of his breeches after he pulled his tail out and flushed with embarrassment. He meant to move swiftly and with grace as he pulled his dagger out from his pack, but he could feel how slowly he was moving, as if every hair- and feather- on his body had been chained to the ground, weighing him down with the reality of his predicament. He sliced into his breeches along the seam of the seat and pulled his tail through, hardly even registering his actions as real. Jaskier could feel Geralt’s eyes burning into him from where he crouched, shoving things haphazardly into a leather satchel. He was probably contemplating ways to kill this new monster he’d discovered. Imagining how he would wear a necklace adorned with feathers from the rare species Jaskier bardum. Whatever he was plotting, Jaskier didn’t want those eyes to leave him. He wanted to savour being looked at for once. No matter Geralt’s definite ill will, Jaskier was willing to bask in his attention. Appreciated while it lasted. While he lasted.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and Jaskier whipped around to see those gold, gold eyes staring into him. “Are you okay, Jas?”

Jaskier knew that Geralt would see (and smell) through his facade in an instant, but why not at least pretend to have some dignity left? “Yeah! Tip-top.” He had felt his teeth growing and sharpening in his mouth as he waited for Geralt to finish packing, and now only feared that Geralt saw them as he grinned a farce.

“We should start on the way to the next town if we want to make it there before nightfall.”

“Right. Yes. Of course. Lead the way.”

...

The road to Milgrove was long and uninteresting. Jaskier thought that he might be able to write a song about the flowers on the trees if only he had an ounce of happiness in him. He didn’t bother trying to hide his crying every time he bit his lip with those new sharp teeth of his, or felt his tail brush against his calves, or tickled himself with his feathers. He felt Geralt look at him awkwardly every time he sniffled or gasped, and treasured each accidental touch on a wing, however uncomfortable it made him. A few hours in (Jaskier didn’t bother trying to keep track of time, he knew he would probably be killed once they figured out what he was, and he wanted to savour his life while it lasted), Geralt cleared his throat abruptly.

“Um, Jaskier, you…” He touched his temples, looking just above Jaskier’s eyes in confusion and disbelief. Jaskier’s heart pounded as he reached a hand up to his forehead, afraid of what he might find. His heart dropped as his fingers brushed against something smooth and solid protruding from his temples, curving slightly and coming to a point a few inches up.

He stopped walking and let himself collapse onto the dirt road, holding his head in his hands (careful not to touch his horns for fear of making them real) and sheltered himself with his wings. This was it. He’d reached his breaking point. He might as well drop his walls and let it all come out in heaving, wet sobs.

“What’s happening to me Geralt? Why me, why now?” There was silence for a moment before Jaskier felt a gloved hand come to rest solidly upon his back, just between his wings. This was new. Geralt had touched him plenty of times, pulling him out of rivers, dragging him away from monsters, punching him in the fucking bollocks, but never gently like this. Never with so noble a goal as comforting a broken, deformed bard such as he.

“Jaskier, it’ll be alright. We’ll fix this.”

He only cried more, forcing words out of his throat with great difficulty. “And if we can’t?”

He felt the silence between them as Geralt paused, contemplating his next sentence. “If it’s not something we can fix, then it must not have needed fixing in the first place.”

…

Jaskier stood in the forest, fully aware of the elven mage’s eyes on him. He had said his name was Enleim a few minutes before, not even bothering with a handshake as he began to survey Jaskier with a twinkle in his eye.

“Hmm… and you said you lost a medallion, yes?”

Jaskier tried to imagine its weight around his neck and its texture upon his sternum, but he couldn’t. “Yes, it was my mother’s. Haven’t taken it off since she died.”

Enleim made another low circle around Jaskier, ducking under his wings and stepping over his tail before bringing himself back up to eye level. He squinted slightly, “How old are you, Jaskier?” His thick, runny accent hung in the air with the strangeness of his question.

“I’m th- thirty-seven.”

“Now, surely you don’t believe that. Nearly forty and yet you still have the face of a babe.” Jaskier looked up at Geralt for some answers, but was disappointed. “No, I suspect you are much older. Who knows? Maybe even older than your Witcher there.”

He retreated into himself, scared of confronting the implications of the mage’s remarks. “I… what are you saying?”

“Well, if my suspicions are correct- and they usually are- then I don’t think you’re human. If I were a betting man, I’d say you were a Fae.”

Fae. Ff-ay-ee. Jaskier sounded it out in his mind, rolling it over his tongue and tossing it between his ears, not bothering to realize what it meant, shielding himself off from what was happening around him.

Distantly, as if he were underwater, Jaskier heard Geralt speak, “Fae don’t exist anymore. They’re a myth.”

“Well, perhaps they aren’t being born anymore, but they live a long time, as evidenced by your friend.”

Jaskier stared at his hands, tracing their lines with his eyes, with his human-not-human, never-human, never-normal, now-a-monster eyes. He felt something clawing at his throat. Tears? Words? A scream loud enough to deafen everyone in the next three towns? “I don’t understand. I- I’m just…” What was he? Who was he now that he was not Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount of Lettenhove? Who was he if not the little boy who played knucklebones with the maids’ children, or the young man who lusted after everyone with pretty eyes, or the bard who decided to fall in love with someone who would never love him back? Without all that, he was just… “Jaskier.”

…

Jaskier had lost whatever dignity he had left that night, sobbing into Geralt’s armor. He was painfully aware of the weight of the wings on his back, and his sharp teeth in his mouth, and the touch of his tail against his legs. He had spent the whole day praying for a cure, for some potion or surgery that could rid him of these marks of inhumanity, only to be told that, not only was he never getting rid of them, but he’d had them all along. Throughout all of his blubbering, though, Geralt held firm. He stroked Jaskier’s hair, hushed his sobs, tried to lay a hand on his wing, but removed it once it only made him weep more.

After a few hours, he stopped crying and resigned himself to merely stare at the stars, trying- and failing- to distract himself from his body. He remembered the previous night’s dream, each moment coming more and more into focus the more he connected the day’s events to his childhood. He saw the shape of his mother’s horns, the touch of his mother’s wings against his, the glint of her fangs when she smiled.

“Before my mother died, I remember a fire. I must’ve been… three, at most, though who knows how true to reality that is. There were people screaming and running- I think they were family and neighbors- and my mother placed the medallion around my neck. It was a buttercup, encased in this… crystal. And then there were arms around her, and she was pulled away, and she was… screaming…” Jaskier scoured the sky for familiar constellations, trying to remember the nights his father spent showing him the shapes their ancestors had traced in the heavens. “It really all makes sense. I- I mean, I know I’m thirty-seven, I met you when I was eighteen and I’ve been with you nineteen years since, and yet, I haven’t changed, have I? Hell, I still have trouble growing a beard.” He struggled with the mental maths. Had he been eighteen when they met? How many years had he spent with the viscount before he left? How many times had he seen his nannies pregnant, how many grey hairs had his governess grown before she retired and was replaced?

He looked at his feet. They seemed to be the only human part left of him. “After that I moved in with the Viscount Pankratz and his wife. And-and I know that Enleim said the glamour could affect my memory, but-but I’ve never been anything but human since! I mean, I get hungry, I bleed, I fuck, I cry, I play my lute... and now all of a sudden… I’m not anymore.” Silence hung between them for a moment, Jaskier massaging his own fingers while Geralt breathed.

The silence was broken by Geralt’s coarse voice. “Before the Trials I had parents. I’m not sure if they loved me, but I had them. They sent me off to Kaer Morhen, and I… changed. They mutated me, forced me to turn inhuman. After a few years, I returned to Rivia to hunt a bruxae, and my parents didn’t even recognize me until I said my name. They were afraid of me, said Witchers were dirty monsters. After I told them who I was, they didn’t speak to me at all.”

Jaskier took a deep breath. He dropped his head against Geralt’s armoured shoulder, trying to ignore the way his horns brushed against Geralt’s jaw. Emboldened by Geralt’s lack of complaints, Jaskier unfolded a wing and wrapped it around them like a muscular, feathered blanket.

They sat like this for a moment, Jaskier contemplating how he’d say goodbye when Geralt finally decided to unsheath his silver sword, when he felt a hand come to rest upon his thigh. He removed his head from Geralt’s shoulder and stared into those wide, amber eyes. For the first time in nineteen years, Geralt looked almost panicked.

Suddenly Jaskier was thrust into the back of his own brain, and watched as his hands came to cup Geralt’s jaw and pull him into a kiss. Distantly, beneath the sound of his pounding heart, he heard Geralt let out a rather soft sound for a Witcher, and he felt hands find their way to his waist. Geralt parted his lips, and Jaskier invited him in, tasting this man with an inhuman tongue and hearing his breath with pointed ears. They moved together, one set of hands pushing their way up a chemise, another tangling themselves in soft white hair.

Jaskier came up for air and stared at Geralt, eyes wide and mouth agape. What words could follow that? How could he defend himself, explain himself? “I… I thought you wouldn’t want me because I’m- I was- human.” Jaskier had to stop and remind himself that he wasn’t human, never had been. He pushed that thought aside for later. “I was too fragile, too emotional for you.”

Geralt let out a gruff chuckle, “I thought you wouldn’t want me because I’m not human.”

Jaskier closed his eyes and tried to rest his forehead upon Geralt’s, but settled for mere proximity when he found that his horns got in the way. “What do you know? We’ve both been proven wrong. In more ways than one.”

#fic #the witcher #jaskier #creature jaskier #fae jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier

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harveywritings92 · 5 years ago

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When someone flirts/Asks you out in front of them: Altair,Malik.

Altair Modern AU: Y/n was taking community college courses for her job, She were currently on her free period before going home when her husband decided to stop by on his way home from work,And holy hell was he exhausted! The y/nat could see the bags under his eyes; poor thing looked dead on his feet! So, the y/hc woman told him to sit down and have a little rest and She'll drive them both home when she was done studying.

Altair was reluctant at first he wasn't really big on PDA let alone napping in public! but after some coaxing he agreed and His wife scooted forward on her chair letting him sit behind her, the Arab man wrapped his arms around her waist with his head resting on her shoulder,he gave her neck a small peck and relaxed.

Y/n didn't know how much time had passed, but she was suddenly brought out of her study trance by a coffee cup being put down, next to her laptop which confused her, Altair was still sleeping on her back. the y/ht woman a brow and looked to see who brought it and saw one of her classmates standing there with a eager smile. She couldn't remember his name. but knew he was in her class, He had a I'm better than you air which made Y/n mentally grimace...

She then heard chuckling and noticed the guys group of D-bag friends one of whom was a nasty girl,[NG/n] that just didn't like Y/n for some reason, the group was snickering at them. It took a moment for the y/wt woman to realize what was going on; because this was how she met Altair! through a cruel bet that backfired when he got to know Y/n and fell for her for real... When the truth came out, It took him nearly a year to win her back! and here they are four years later married.

She gave the guy a tight smile and asked what she could do for him? She mentally cringed as the guy gave her a false confession almost identical to Altair's saying he's noticed her from afar for a while now and wondered if she was free tonight? Y/n felt her husband tense up and his arms tighten around her waist he lifted head up and his golden eyes glared up at D-bag alight with murderous intent.

D-bag hadn't even noticed Altair he thought the mass behind Y/n was a hoodie laying over her backpack. So, when he found out it was a man he nearly jumped out of his shoes. "Holy shit who the fu-" D-bag yelped when the Arab man grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

"I'm only going to say this once..." Altair huffed as he rose to his full height lifting D-bag off his feet in the process said jerk looked ready to pissed himself. "Stay away from my wife..." Altair hissed loud for D-bag's friends to hear they all blanched as their stooge was thrown to the floor, Before Altair grabbed Y/n who just barely manage to put her things away as her Husband dragged her out of the library, He got them to the car and well....

Altair had a bit of meltdown! ranting about how shallow people can be, how arrogant, immature and miserable does one have to be to play with a girl's heart like that?!...And how stupid it was that He used be like that! He slammed his fist on the dash as his temper simmered only to be blindsided when Y/n gave him a small peck on the lips.

"No, You were never like that." His brows furrowed bemused wondering exactly where her mind was right now. "When you first approached me you were blank and hollow, nothing was there when you smiled." Y/n trailed off then watched some leaves swirl around in the wind outside. "I think it was right after you told me about the bet that I noticed the change..that desperation and raw emotion when ever you tried talking to me,That's what drew back to y-" She cut off now by Altair passing out on her lap, a small smile stretched on his scarred lips, the poor dear really was exhausted! "I'll tell you later, Rest well sweetie." Y/n cooed patting his head.

______________________________________________________________

Malik Modern AU: Y/n and Malik were at the movies waiting for some of her work friends, but the couple were confused why only one showed up, a man named Ryan who was dressed a little to nice for just watching the movies with friends...

while you and Ryan chatted Malik scanned to street trying to pinpoint were the rest of the group was? he saw someone duck behind a car. His eyes narrowed something fishy was going on here....

He was brought out of his thoughts by Y/n grabbing his hand and leading him inside during the entire movie Malik noticed the same group from outside hiding waay back in the theater, a frowned graced his lips and was about to tell Y/n to be cautious, when she suddenly leaned close to him while giving Ryan an uncomfortable look.

Her fiancee gave the man a pointed look causing him to sink into his chair, then he noticed Ryan kept trying to hold the y/hc woman's hand or put his arm around her he whispered something to her that made her grimace Malik tapped her on the shoulder and gave her a look that said *Do you want to switch?* she nodded timidly and the couple switched seats. Ryan frowned annoyed then took out his phone he didn't even try to hide it, as Malik read the texts.

(Ryan){Yo, does Y/n volunteer at hospital for amputees or something? Cus this guy will not Fcking leave!]

(Geoff)[Hey yur the one who pussy'd out and said it was group thing, just tell her it was date when you drop the guy off and ask 4 a do over or something...}

(Katty) [Wait...ur on a date with Y/n? ...Y/N L/n from [job department]?}

(Ryan) { Yeh Why?]

(Katty) [ Ya'll know she's getting married next week right?}

Malik resisted the urge to burst out laughing at Ryan's face as the ginger haired man scrutinized the text, like he wasn't reading it right then looked at the Arab man sitting next to him who seemed focused on the movie before going back to his phone.

(Ryan) {what does her fiancee look like?]

(Katty) [tall, middle eastern, black hair, has a prosthetic arm in a sling...I think his name is Milkweed?}

(Katty) [Malik*....damn phone.}

(Geoff) [Dude abort! get the hell outta there!}

Ryan blanched and gawked at Malik who was now staring right at him. "Everything okay Ryan?" he asked trying not to laugh as Y/n looked over her fiancee's shoulder, to see what her co-worker was doing? the ginger haired man coughed then sputtered something about needing the bathroom and ran out of the theater like the bat out of hell, knocking a few things out of peoples laps in the process, causing them to cuss him out.

"What was that that about?" She asked bemused why Ryan ran out here like someone told him his house was on fire? Malik just put his arm around her shoulder while watching the rest of the movie. "Oh nothing, he just forgot to do his homework." the brown eyed man mused pulling her close.

#assassin's creed x reader #Altair x Y/n #malik al sayf #Malik x y/n #Assassin's creed #modern au #scenario

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im-not-a-satanist-i-swear · 5 years ago

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How (Not) To Catch A Deer

Chapter 1: How Could Anyone Look At That Face And Be Okay?

Notes: This isn't exactly a slow burn, but it's not one of those 'Hey let's fuck, oh by the way, I don't know your name' ones either. The hardest part about this was probably choosing the chapter title, because I came up with a bunch and had trouble picking. If anyone's even reading this, I'll add the alternate titles I came up with in the notes at the end of this chapter, and lemme know which one you liked best. Check me out on Wattpad @ninjapickles49 Thanks, and enjoy.

Wade wasn't addicted.

That was the one thing he was sure of because, firstly, his healing factor prevented him from getting addicted to anything. And second, he would never let himself want something he couldn't have—

[Liar.]

—no matter what White said. It was unprofessional.

He wasn't addicted.

And yet, here he was, for some reason, on the subway for the millionth time, going somewhere he didn't need to go for the millionth time. Hiding his face in the shadow of his hood, trying not to bump into strangers for the millionth time. Attempting to swallow his anxiety and the creeping feeling of claustrophobia for the millionth time.

All so he could stand there and watch—

[Stalk, you mean.]

{Admire!}

—the figure on the other end of the subway car.

Wade had lost count of how many days or weeks it had been. It probably wasn't that many, but it seemed like he had been coming here forever. Getting on the subway every morning of every weekday, sitting or standing on the opposite end of where the object of his obsession always sat. Trying to stifle his slowly building panic as more and more people crowded on, headed to their jobs. Then came the moment of relief, the deep calming sigh Wade always released as soon as he was the familiar mop of hair and scuffed satchel. He remembered the first time he had seen that satchel and hair, unusually clearly.

Wade getting on the subway that day had been a complete random choice. He had realized—quite suddenly—that after all the time he'd spent in New York, he had never seen the Statue of Liberty. Not up close. It was a split-second decision to hop on a subway that went across the city; he didn't have any plans that day. And for once he thought it'd better to go in his civilian clothes.

He would draw less attention that way, melding into the crowd of people; almost like he was one of them.

[Almost.]

And it was less likely that he'd be attacked, threatened, or banned from the place that way. Some people didn't respond well to a large, loud man in a red leather suit and mask, even if he left most of his weapons at home.

So there he was, standing in the corner of the subway car, keeping his head down, face hidden under the hood except to glance around and make a mental note of the people getting on and off and how many there were.

White was lecturing him about being stupid while Yellow sang Crazy Train very off-key and the people around him were talking as they filed in from the station. Wade was inching away from people that got too close, beginning to think this was a bad idea without his suit, and a few seconds from bolting out the doors—Statue of Liberty be damned—when his gave happened to land on one of the people shuffling in and Wade's whole world stopped.

His panic fizzled out, the babble of voices around him fading to a distant hum. Even the boxes grew quiet as they tried to figure out what had captured his attention while Wade's eyes remained glued to the figure who had just sat down on the other end of the car.

Yellow just let out a small gasp. {Oh my god...}

White just sighed. [Oh no.]

Wade just stared. Holy fuck.

Shaggy brown hair—thoroughly ruffled on the top, like fingers were dragged through it a lot—hung down into chocolate-colored doe eyes that seemed almost too big for the narrow pale face. The cute upturned nose, red at the tip, the full lips, and sharp jawline only made it that much more stunning. And to top it all off, the beautiful eyes were framed by black glasses; the modern thick plastic kind that Wade didn't even know he liked that much until now.

{Guess we can add glasses to the kink list.}

The guy was...

{Absolutely fucking adorable?! A hipster Adonis?! Our future husband?!}

[Way out of your league, not to mention almost definitely straight,] White snorted.

That had wiped the breathless smile off of Wade's face. He knew, of course, the White was right. He already knew that; he didn't need to be reminded.

{Yeah, don't ruin this, White. We can dream!}

[That's all it is though: a dream. And when you're forced, eventually, to return to the real world, the reality of your situation will hurt more. Dreams are for children.]

Wade felt his mood dropping even as he continued to watch the gorgeous guy.

{Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time? Now he's sad again, and so am I!}

"I'm fine, Yellow," Wade muttered. "White's right anyway."

{No, he's not! Dreams are the only reason we're—well, you're alive. I think White lost his, along with his soul and sense of humor...}

[I never had a soul to begin with, you idiot. Neither of us have one; we're not even technically alive, so you have nothing to dream about.] White was obviously getting irritated; his comments biting deeper.

{But Wade does,} Yellow insisted. {And our life kinda sucks anyway, so let him dream... for all of us.}

"Who are you and what have you done with Yellow?" Wade had just enough presence of mind to turn to the wall as he spoke, hiding his face and hopefully muffling his voice.

{What?}

"When did you get so deep?"

There was a low snicker. {Well, I have been stretching myself out—}

[And he's back,] White interrupted tiredly over the sound of Yellow cackling.

The sound of the subway slowing down brought Wade out of his thoughts with a jolt and he glanced at where the adorable stranger had been sitting, panicking when he realized he was no longer there. He scanned the small crowd of people leaving the car—using his height to his advantage—and breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the guy.

He was hard to spot; he wasn't very tall—

{Size difference! One of my kinks!}

[Shut up. Don't encourage him.]

—and Wade strained to get a last glimpse of that face and those eyes, knowing he'd almost definitely never see the guy again. And when the doors slid shut behind the slim figure, Wade felt something drop in his chest as a foreign feeling curled through his body, warm and painful all at the same time. But he couldn't figure out if the emotion meant something was ending... or just beginning.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a haze of faces and emotions, the boxes lecturing and encouraging over each other, getting louder and louder until Wade's head hurt.

He didn't go to see the Statue of Liberty. But that was the only place he was sure he didn't wind up in, because he spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar streets and neighborhoods, his mind a whirlwind. He didn't even know where all he went, hands in pockets, face hidden under his trusty hood as he tried to figure out how the hell a random—albeit very attractive—stranger, who hadn't even looked at or talked to him, had managed to get under his skin so fast.

By the time the sun was going down, he was no less confused, and was lucky to even find his way back to the subway station. If anything, he felt even more muddled, but now he just had a headache as well.

He got into the same car as last time, hating himself for even glancing hopefully at the seat the stranger had occupied as he made his way to the corner once more.

The next couple stops were spent staring into space, zoned out, muttering to White and Yellow, and clutching his head when they got really loud. And even though it was stupid—which White very helpfully reminded him of—he still paid attention when the subway stopped at the station the guy had gotten off at.

{Maybe he takes the same one home?} Yellow sounded hopeful.

[Even if he does, the chances of him getting on here the same time as we're here is very small. Look around; it's late. The mass majority of sheep went home hours ago. Either way, you're not gonna see—]

Yellow cut him off, letting out a squeal so loud and shrill, Wade had to resist the urge to double over or hit his head on something. {OMIGOD HE'S HERE.}

[Are you shitting me?]

Wade stared, shocked, as the beautiful stranger from that morning shuffled into the car, looking considerably more exhausted, but still just as gorgeous as Wade remember. Better, even.

{Did we just call a guy gorgeous and beautiful in the same sentence? That's gay,} Yellow giggled, sounding giddy.

[No, it's fucking stupid is what it is,] White snapped.

{Shut up, White! He's back and even you can't ruin the mood!}

White and Yellow started going at it once more, but Wade did his best to ignore them, fixing his attention on the guy. If this was all he could have, that was okay; it was all he deserved, but he was going to at least enjoy it. There were only a few other people in the car, and Wade shrunk into his corner a bit more, feeling exposed. If the stranger looked up, he'd see him.

But that didn't stop Wade from watching him the entire way back. He didn't even know why, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the guy.

And when the train stopped and Gorgeous Stranger Guy stood up, looking like he could drop on the spot, Wade felt a sense of dread wash over him. This was it, the last time he would ever see this random adorable person who somehow made his stomach feel weird and he hadn't even spoken to him. The doors slid closed, sealing his misery as he watched the slim figure leaving.

{But...} Yellow sounded thoughtful.

[There's a first time for everything, I guess,] White snarked. [Yellow's never thought before.]

{What if you could?} Yellow finished, ignoring White, sounding sly and tempting and way too fucking pleased with himself as Wade's heart leapt.

What if he could?

* * *

So here we are, back in the present, where Wade was spending—

[Wasting.]

—another day on the subway, just to watch the guy he had become so—

[Obsessed with.]

—interested in.

There was just something about him—not just his looks—that fascinated Wade.

He was always polite, giving up his seat if someone needed it, and apologizing to people if they bumped into him, or knocked one of the books that he always seemed to reading out of his hands. Wade had the very strong urge to take a swing at them, then make them apologize, but he never realistically, he couldn't. He just had to grit his teeth every time it happened and Adorable Stranger Guy just smiled and apologized.

But sometimes, when the guy thought he was alone in the crowd, unobserved and unnoticed, his polite mask would slip, a flicker of emotion crossing his face that he usually quickly stifled soon after. It happened mostly at night, when he was tired, and their were few people on the subway, all lost in their own worlds—except Wade, who wanted to do something every time he saw that emotion in the guy's eyes. Because he knew feeling better than any other, recognized it from the rare times he looked in the mirror without his mask; felt it nearly every second of every day.

It was loneliness.

And he knew how much it hurt; how it settled in your bones, tightened around your throat. Curled through your body, leaving a trail of ice in its wake until you felt like you'd never be warm again.

It was almost enough for Wade to go talk to the guy, but something—usually White—always seemed to stop him. Just because someone was lonely did not mean they needed Wade Wilson in their life.

[They'd be better off alone than with you.]

{Shut up, he's already brooding; you don't need to make it worse.}

And there were other things as well. Adorable Stranger Guy was always exhausted, even in the morning, leading Wade to believe this was not his only job. And he obviously wasn't very well off, if the neat but threadbare clothes, tattered Vans, and scuffed up satchel were anything to go by. And Wade was pretty sure in the first week or so of his subway rides, he'd already seen the full rotation of the guy's wardrobe.

The guy—

*insert record scratch noise here*

{Okay, we can't just keep calling him 'the guy' or 'the stranger' or even 'Adorable Stranger Guy'. The readers will eventually get pissed if we don't come up with something better, and they'll leave!}

[Wade is such dumbass in this story, I don't doubt they'll leave anyway. Can you say 'BAD WRITING'?]

{Come on, White, help!}

[Shorty, Bedhead, Ragtag, Urchin, Andrew Garfield Wannabe...]

{OOH OOH I GOT ONE I GOT ONE! Okay, here we go.}

*insert whatever the fuck the opposite of a record scratch sound is*

The guy—Wade had taken to calling him Bambi in his head, based on his eyes; he couldn't call him 'the guy' forever, that would be boring—

[Nice save, Yellow.]

—always seemed perpetually hungry, the signs also recognized by Wade who remembered the feeling all too well. He was tempted to just give the guy some food, or leave it on his chair or something, but he knew logically that wouldn't go over well. For one, he'd have to explain himself—meaning he'd have to talk to Bambi—and there'd be questions. And Wade didn't want him to think he was a charity case; he seemed like the type who would get offended by that. And Bambi didn't seem dangerously underweight; despite the small frame and narrow build, Wade caught glimpses of lean muscles and toned arms under the baggy clothes and oversized hoodies.

{He's still hungry though. Can we just take him home and feed him or something?}

[That's kidnapping.]

{Nothing we haven't done before,} Yellow muttered sulkily.

"Hey, hey, bastard pedophiles don't count," Wade muttered.

[The answer is still no. Why are we even still here?]

{Because WaAaaAAAdde's in looOOOoooOOve!} White giggled, his mood changing abruptly like it always did.

[Bullshit. This isn't love. This doesn't even qualify as a crush. It's not even anything remotely romantic. You're lonely and bored and looking for something to focus your attention and time on; to obsess over.]

{No, this is different...}

[No, it's not. That's my point. And I wouldn't expect you to be able to tell the difference even if there was one. You're so desperate for attention and affection that you've deluded yourself.]

Yellow didn't reply.

Wade wasn't sure if White's biting remarks were directed toward Yellow or himself, but it didn't matter; he was right either way. He sighed, glancing toward the quiet beauty with his nose in a book as usual, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Wade wondered absently what he was reading right then.

"You're probably right, White, but... just let me have this. Please."

White was silent for a long moment, before sighing heavily. [Go ahead. Waste your time pining after something you can never have. I can't stop you, but... I also sure as hell won't help you break your own heart. Not again.]

Wade didn't say anything else, fixing his eyes on Bambi once more. He wasn't sure whether to thank White or curse him, so he remained silent. All the way home.

* * *

[We can't keep this up forever.]

{Why the hell not? We don't have a life.}

[Wade, what are you going to do on the day he doesn't get on this subway?]

{Why would he stop?} Yellow sounded confused, and a little frightened by the idea.

[What if he moves? Gets a car? Quits his job? Life changes. People change. You're the only one who doesn't.]

"What happened to keeping your non-existent nose out of it?" Wade mumbled, watching as—for the millionth time—Bambi got on and plopped down, looking even worse for wear than usual.

[I said I wouldn't help you break your own heart.]

{Yeah, we remember; that was only like, nine paragraphs ago. So why are you back to being an ass?}

[I'm trying to save him—and you—from your own stupidity... again. This happens every time; it's a cycle. You—Wade—find someone, get obsessed, then rejected, then heartbroken, until you die enough times to finally move on. And it repeats. It's stupid, not to mention unhealthy.]

{But... what if this is where it stops?} Yellow sounded sickeningly hopeful.

[Yes—] White's every word dripped with sarcasm [—I'm sure this very attractive man who probably has a line of people throwing themselves at him—if he's not already in a relationship—will see your face and fall instantly in love with you... Grow up, Yellow.]

There was a very long silence filled with hurt and awkwardness that Wade did his best to ignore while he watched the people stream in—much more than usual—all on their way to their mundane jobs, where they got a mundane salary, and got to go home to their mundane suburban house and kiss their spouses and hug their kids...

Wade cut off that line of thought; it was too painful. Because as much as he wanted to pretend he didn't have a care in the world, and the thought of normal people and boring families made him ill... he secretly wanted it more than anything in the world. And the realization he could never have it, no matter how many lifetimes he lived, never hurt any less.

[We can't keep doing this, Wade,] White said finally, his tone gentler. [You said I was right. You know I'm right. This only ever ends one way.]

{No, don't listen to him! He has no heart—}

[This needs to be the last day. You can have this, but after today, it needs to be done.]

Wade heard a shocked gasp, and he honestly wasn't sure if it was him or Yellow.

"Why?" he whispered. "We—we're not hurting anyone."

[You're hurting yourself, and Yellow, by continuing this.]

{Ya know what?!} Yellow bellowed suddenly, causing Wade to flinch. {Screw you, White! You never shut up until you ruin everything and he does exactly what you want! I never to get to decide anything! So, if today's our last day, we're doing it my way!}

[What did you have in mind?] White asked dryly, not sounding as if he cared much.

{Go sit next to him.} Yellow sounded triumphant.

"What?" Wade froze, anxiety creeping through him at just the thought. He glanced over at the empty seat next to Bambi, who was reading, as usual.

{This is the last time we're ever going to see him,} Yellow said mournfully, {and you don't even know his real name. You're gonna regret it forever if you never get the chance to talk to him.}

"No, I don't... I can't..."

{GO SIT NEXT TO HIM OR I SWEAR I WILL SING BABY SHARK ON REPEAT FOR THE NEXT MONTH!}

[Oh... god no. Wade, just do it. I will not listen to that song ever again.]

"Have you guys lost your minds?" Wade hissed, looking the other way quickly as several people glanced his way.

{I'll do it, I swear on... chimichangas and tacos... and katanas!}

[Wade, if it comes down to it, I'm going to make you kill us until I can finally die and be rid of you or until he stops. Just do it, for fuck's sake; you're never gonna see the guy again.]

{Do it!}

[Do it.]

Well, fuck.

The boxes very rarely ever agreed on anything, and the few times they did, that meant it was important enough and Wade needed to listen. If they ever agreed against him, it meant he was wrong. If they ever had the same advice or answer, Wade always listened.

He was so used to doing it, the next thing he knew, he was crossing the subway car on shaky legs, closer and closer to the beautiful Bambi until—it felt like years, decades later—he sank into the seat next to the guy.

Once he got there, he came very quickly to the conclusion that White and Yellow were absolute idiots and what did he just do? He couldn't leave now, if Bambi noticed, he'd think Wade was being rude. And besides, it'd attract more attention to leave the seat for the corner now.

So, breathing shallow and heart beating faster than normal, he turned his head slowly under the hood, until he could just peek at Bambi. And he wasn't sure if the breath he released was one of relief or vague irritation when he saw the earbuds in Bambi's ears.

{Are you kidding me?! We came all this ass way—and he has earbuds in?}

[This is good. Now we don't have to try to make conversation, and he may not even notice your face, Wade.]

Wade's social anxiety and loneliness warred inside him as he took quick peeks at Bambi, until he wasn't sure if he wanted to yank the guy's earbuds out and introduce himself, or get off at the next station just to be able to get away from the crowds and people so he could calm down.

[I vote for the latter. This is getting ridiculous.]

{It's your last chance to talk to him!}

"What am I gonna do, tap him on the shoulder just to say hello? Earbuds are the universal 'leave me alone' sign," Wade murmured, barely audible even to himself.

[Not to mention probably traumatizing him when he sees your face.]

{It's not bad today. Less Deadpool suit means more good skin days.}

[Yay. So we've gone from open sores to just regular mangled-looking avocado skin. Such an improvement.]

{Maybe... he won't mind? Bambi seems like the type of person who wouldn't care about—}

[Now you're really grasping. How could anyone look at that face and be okay? It doesn't matter if he's a literal angel; you have the face of a demon. You have a face not even a mother could love.]

{You said... you said you'd let us have this.} Yellow's voice was small.

[Well, this is why you're a comedy relief character who doesn't make any important choices. Wade, either talk to him or leave. But you'd better make up your mind soon; his stop's coming.]

That jerked Wade out of his head and he glanced up to see the subway just starting to slow down.

Fuck.

{TALK TO HIM!}

[It's too late now.]

Wade sunk lower in his seat, misery already beginning to seep through him as he waited for Bambi to stand up and join the crowd waiting for the doors to open.

[Like sheep.]

When a minute had passed and Bambi still hadn't moved, Wade turned his head a tiny bit to glance at him.

{Awww...}

The guy still had his book open, but he was slumped forward slightly, eyes gradually drifting shut as his fingers started to loosen around the book.

[He's going to miss his stop.]

{Now you have an excuse!}

[Whatever gets us out of here quicker.]

{Just poke him or nudge him or something! Anyone would do it!}

"What if he finds it weird I know where he gets off?"

[You're on here every day; you don't have to lie about that. And he has no idea he's the one you're stalking, so just tell him you're observant.]

{Hurry up, the subway stopped!}

[I refuse to listen to Baby Shark; just do it.]

Wade reached over hesitantly, breath caught in his throat. His fingers hovered for a moment, trembling, before he took a deep breath and shook the guy very gently—although you wouldn't have known it by Bambi's reaction.

Brown eyes snapped open as he jumped in his seat, breathing hard as his gaze darted around, finally settling on Wade, who was frozen, arm still outstretched, heart racing. Wade kept his head down, hidden in the shadow of his hood, hoping it'd be enough.

He could feel Bambi staring at him, confused but expectant.

"Sorry, but isn't this your stop?" Wade asked in a low voice, hating how rough his voice sounded. He cleared his throat quietly, daring to glance up as the guy looked around, at the people starting to file slowly out.

"Uh, yeah, it is, actually. Wow, thanks... how'd you know?"

{Don't mess this up.} Yellow sounded ecstatic, but nervous.

"I'm... I'm on here pretty much every day. I just payed attention..." Wade trailed off.

"Oh yeah, I think I've seen you on here before, once or twice."

{Omigod HE NOTICED US}

"Thank you so much though, seriously; I would have completely missed it." Bambi stood up. There as a short silence which made Wade think for a moment he had left. Then a hand appeared in front of his face, startling him into looking up.

Bambi was right in front of him, and as Wade tilted his head up, he felt the light hit his face.

Shit.

He was about to duck back into hiding but stopped, surprised beyond words when he realized Bambi was still smiling gratefully, arm outstretched towards him. His bright gaze flickered briefly across Wade's face, probably watching the shifting scars, but if he was disgusted, he didn't show it. Wade, stunned by his reaction—or lack thereof—found himself reaching for and shaking the slender hand with long delicate, but chilly fingers.

"I'm Peter," Bambi said softly, his eyes glowing softly, like melting chocolate. He was still looking at Wade like Wade was a completely normal person and not a walking disaster, and he didn't know what to think.

"Wade," he heard himself breathe out, still captivated by that face, too shocked to do anything but stare when Bam—Peter shouldered his beat up satchel and smiled that beautiful soft smile again. "Thanks again; it was nice to meet you. Guess I'll see you around, Wade."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wade—and the boxes—reeling.

White recovered first. [What the fuck.]

{That was actually... omigod, my heart's racing.}

"You don't have one," Wade replied absently, even as he reached up to feel his own thundering heartbeat.

[Okay... that was weird.] White sounded like he was trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. [But Wade, remember, we had a deal.]

{Even you can't ruin this, White. The Adonis talked to us and didn't even throw up or anything.}

"And now I know his name," Wade added, still feeling stunned. The adorable stranger on the subway, Bambi, who had actually talked to him and looked at him and didn't recoil from his face or skin... was Peter. It fit doe-eyes perfectly.

He smiled to himself, tuning out the beginning of White's lecture as best he could.

Peter.

Notes: I'm kinda proud of the title, but I was afraid nobody would get it, so I'm gonna explain it. So White tells Wade his face is hideous and Wade thinks Peter has the most beautiful face, so the title could mean good or bad... it could be White talking to Wade or Wade talking about Peter. I just liked how it would work either way. But if nobody else got it, then sorry. And I'm also a little worried because the title sounds like it's to a super angsty story and I haven't gotten that far yet. Okay, I'll stop talking now; here are the alternate titles:

Bambi (Then the next chapter would be Peter, and the one after that would be Spider-Man)

How Many Times Can I Say 'Subway' In This Chapter?

Stalking a Deer

How (Not) To Catch a Deer

White's a DICK (who let Yellow title this one?!) (I really liked this one too tbh)

#spideypool #fluff #gay #peterparker #spiderman #wadewilson #deadpool #fanfiction #fanfic #the next chapter will be better i promise

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anotherdayinchuckletown · 5 years ago

Text

They’re Funny That Way, Chapter 1

Hey, guys! How’s it going? I’ve been writing for about ten years now, but this is only the second ever fic I’ve shared anywhere, so I’m super nervous!!!

This is basically my take on a Harley Quinn origin story tailored to the universe of Joker (2019). It’s going to be Harley like we’ve never seen her before, with lots of Arthur, lots of Sophie, lots of original characters, and lots of twists and turns.

I’m SO beyond excited to finally share this with you guys, and I hope you all enjoy! Please like, comment, reblog if you do so that I know if you guys love reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it! This fic is also posted to my AO3 account (https://archiveofourown.org/users/marie_deneuve), so you can also read it there if you’d like!

Without further ado, heeeere we go!!

Chapter 1

The apartment building at Eleven-Forty Anderson Avenue is an eyesore situated in the midst of a likewise ugly city called Gotham. A pimple on a face only a mother could love. A pariah among pariahs.

Management has long since stopped caring about its maintenance, leaving it a patchwork of leaking ceilings, cracking foundations, and broken windows haphazardly boarded shut. Even the most seasoned resident of Gotham City would quicken his pace when passing the telltale archways which separate the apartments from the rest of the city.

Sophie Dumond is currently doing her best to avoid saying any of that out loud.

“It’s really not that bad,” she lies. “Definitely a far cry from where you’re living now, but once you get used to it, it’s not the worst.” Although she is on the phone, she looks down at her shoes anyway, so as not to look her guilt in the face. A crack in the tile beneath her feet stares back accusingly.

“Really? My brother told me his appliances never work, and the maintenance crew is impossible to reach,” the voice on the other line replies skeptically. It belongs to another young woman by the name of Emma Boulanger – Emma Scott, actually, ever since her marriage – who has been Sophie’s best friend since the two of them met in elementary school. She is also the godmother of Sophie’s five-year-old daughter, which was an unpopular decision she had been made to justify more times than she would have liked (honestly, though, her sister could call her if she ever became less of a pretentious bitch).

This phone call marks the first time Sophie has heard from her in one month, two weeks, and six days. Not that she’s been counting or anything.

It’s just strange not to talk to her, as she’s always the first to know of any big changes in her friend’s life. Emma is certainly the first to know about changes in Sophie’s life as well. She’s there when they both open up their letters of acceptance into Gotham University, whooping and cheering and dreaming of finally, finally leaving this shithole, getting glamorous jobs in the big city. She’s there when Sophie is curled up on her bathroom floor, crying and clutching a positive pregnancy test, wanting the best for the child growing inside of her, yet fearing she would never be able to provide it.

That’s why it’s so odd when Emma’s twin brother is the one to mention in the hallway one day that his sister has filed for divorce. And furthermore, that she’s returning to Gotham to live with him until she gets back on her feet.

“Like I said, Emma, it’s not perfect,” she relents. “But hey, at least it’ll be nice to hang out again. It’s been way too long.”

“Yeah, it really has! I moved, what, almost two years ago?” Emma’s voice brightens marginally, and Sophie can nearly see the lopsided grin spreading across her face, so familiar is she with every tic, every tell, every minuscule inflection to her words. “Metropolis is boring as hell, by the way. I almost miss Gotham - call me crazy.”

Sophie huffs, knowing full well that Emma is playing it cool - trying not to let on how much she dreads moving back to a city she called a living, breathing prison for so many years. Best to keep things lighthearted then. Empathize with her, acknowledge her feelings, but never, never pity her. “You’re definitely crazy, Em,” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow. “What exactly does it for you, the enormous rats or the graffiti dicks?”

An almost imperceptible chuckle filters through the receiver. “Well, no one ever really escapes Gotham, do they? I figure I might as well develop a little Stockholm Syndrome.”

Sophie doesn’t immediately respond to the bleak sentiment. It’s simply a joke, of course, and as a matter of fact, very on-brand. But there’s enough truth to it to cause a momentary lapse in the lightness of their conversation.

Sophie has found gradually that Emma was right growing up. Gotham truly seems less like a place and more like an entity. It has a certain way of taking, taking, taking from a person, and when that person has nothing left to give, taking just a little bit more. The citizens meander like restless spirits, doomed to wander to and from their low-wage jobs for eternity. The air is heavier out there, tugging their faces down into sour expressions, aging them prematurely. A reflection of their surroundings.

Sophie often wonders if she looks the way they do.

If Emma notices the shift – which she certainly does, she always does – she politely ignores it. “I guess beggars can’t be choosers… It was nice of Eddie to let me stay with him on such short notice.” Fondly, she adds, “He may be a bit of a shithead, but he’s a good brother.”

Before Sophie can stop herself, she laughs aloud. “No comment. We do live on the same floor, you know.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Do you two ever hang out?”

“Not particularly.” Sophie doesn’t dislike Eddie – quite the opposite, in fact. She always chalks up her lack of chemistry with him to simply having nothing in common. He and Emma share nothing but a birthday, a head of golden hair, and a pair of striking ice-blue eyes.

Rapid footsteps make their way into the foyer, breaking Sophie out of her reverie. “Mommy, look what I drew!”

Muttering a quick “hang on a second” into the receiver, she turns toward the source of the sound, and a sheet of paper is practically shoved in her face from below. She is met with a mish-mosh of various shapes and colors, one large brown figure taking precedence in the middle of the page.

She smiles warmly. “Wow, that’s very good, Gigi! What’s that a picture of?”

The artist beams with pride. “It’s the roach you killed in the bathroom yesterday!”

Son of a bitch.

“Can we put it on the fridge, Mommy?”

Blinking owlishly, Sophie scrambles for a response. They really don’t teach her this shit in those parenting books she sometimes finds at Gotham Central Library.

She settles on, “Honey, you already have so many nice ones up there, I just can’t decide which ones to keep! Let’s put this one away for now, and I’ll think about it, okay?” She offers her free hand to take the drawing so that she can accidentally misplace it later.

It does the trick. “Okay!” her daughter chirps, proudly handing over her portrait. Encourage, then swiftly change the subject – a motherly sort of manipulation that works in everyone’s favor.

“Holy shit, I haven’t even asked about Gigi yet!” Emma exclaims. “God, she must be getting so big! She starts Kindergarten this year, right?”

“Yeah, in the fall. And she comes all the way up to my waist now, isn’t that insane?” Unmistakable pride colors Sophie’s response.

“That’s so awesome! Did she miss me at all?” comes over the receiver as Gigi simultaneously begins an onslaught of “who’s that, Mommy, who’s that?”

“Miss you? Are you kidding? Listen to this.” Sophie crouches next to her daughter, holding the phone away from her ear, but nearby so that Emma can hear. “Gigi, your Aunt Emma’s on the phone. She’s coming to live here again soon, isn’t that great?”

The resounding shriek is a good indicator that she agrees. And that Sophie is going to have to bring the neighbors another gift basket so they don’t complain about her to the landlord.

“Can I talk to Aunt Emma, Mommy? Can I, can I, please, please, please?” Tiny, impatient hands grapple for the phone as laughter pours in from the other line.

“Come on, if I let you talk to her now, we’ll be stuck here forever.” A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s nearing eight o'clock. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for bed soon?”

Gigi wrinkles her nose in distaste, and Sophie cuts her off before the complaints can begin. “No arguments, Gigi. Go start your bath – I’ll be there in just a minute.”

She receives a defiant huff; nevertheless, Gigi stomps her way to the bathroom, and Sophie waits for the sound of running water before she returns to the previous conversation.

“So anyway, Eddie tells me you’re holed up in a hotel room until the weekend. I’m guessing that Daniel didn’t take the…the breakup news very well?” she asks, somewhat cautiously. Talking about Emma’s husband – now ex-husband – is a mixed bag, even back when they were dating.

“You could say that,” Emma responds sheepishly. “It wasn’t pretty, let’s leave it at that. I thought it would be best for me to get out of the house right away, give him some time to himself.”

It makes Sophie nervous that she is skirting the question, but then again, Emma’s in a vulnerable position at the moment. And she’s rarely one to talk at length about her own emotions in the first place – she’s much more of a listener.

Sophie would like to ask what she means by “it wasn’t pretty”, but decides against prying. She would also like to ask why she ever married that jackass in the first place, since their relationship had been obviously strained from day one. It was always as if the two of them were tightrope walking over a volcano – bubbling quietly, boiling and threatening to swallow them both whole. The smallest change in the wind, the most harmless comment about Daniel not picking his towel up off the floor could send them tumbling into the inferno. She supposes one of them finally fell.

Something about that man has always creeped her out, but she gave up voicing her discontent with him after about the thirtieth time Emma brushed her off. She won’t say “I told you so”, since she wouldn’t want to belittle whatever pain Emma is going through. Still, she can’t help but feel a little relief – that doesn’t make her a terrible friend, right?

All of this can wait, though. It can wait until they’re seeing each other face-to-face again. Until Sophie isn’t on a strict time limit. She needs to wrap up the current conversation quickly because if she doesn’t, she could possibly be dealing with a flooded bathroom shortly. Five-year-olds do not generally care about the cost of repairing water damage if it seeps into the downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, with…you know…everything.”

“Of course!” Emma reassures her. “I’m perfectly fine. Like I said, I’m looking forward to being home. Honestly.”

Sophie is not convinced, and frankly, it sounds like Emma is not either. She wonders if her friend has been checking in on the worsening condition of their hometown from Metropolis. The homeless population is growing by the day, and the working class is becoming more and more restless due to low wages and poor working conditions in the inner city. Rumor has it that sanitation workers are chief among the dissatisfied, and a garbage strike is all but guaranteed by winter.

So much she wants to say. So much she can’t say. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

_______________________________________________________________

Emma remembers around this time last year taking a trip to Paris, France. She saw the premiere of a musical there called Les Misérables – it was based off of her favorite book by Victor Hugo, so naturally, she begged and begged to go.

And what a payoff! The show was spectacular, from the costumes to the stage design to the music. Oh, the music! Despite being there with her then-husband, she had the most fun she’d had in years, letting the melancholy chords turn her as light as the air and the lyrics carry her far, far away in the wind.

Even more than the music, she was captivated by the plot. She could practically feel the plight of the poverty-stricken citizens. One of the opening scenes depicted the starving masses singing of their grief over the way they were snubbed by the wealthy, left to rot in the streets.

That is the scene Emma finds herself stepping into today. Only this time, she is not a passive observer, watching the events unfold without being affected. From today on, she is one of the characters.

From the moment she arrives in downtown Gotham City by taxi, the tension claws at her with icy hands. It digs into her ribcage with each glare aimed her way, even in the mild September breeze. She knows she sticks out like a preacher at a Pride parade in her obviously expensive skirt and heels. It’s not like she had time to go digging around her closet for something more appropriate that night she left her house.

Handsomely tipping her driver, she climbs out of the car and rushes underneath a set of archways and inside the apartment building where she’ll be living for the foreseeable future. She doesn’t look very closely at it from the outside, so desperate is she to get off the street and away from whatever the hell that smell is.

Emma uses the opportunity to finally look around a bit, taking her surroundings in with narrowed eyes. The lobby is dimly-lit, with no color to it whatsoever. The walls are painted a chipped-up brownish yellow, which could have been white many years ago. It reeks of mold, to the point where the smell outside might be the lesser of the two evils.

Leaning carefully against the nearest wall, she mutters, “Not that bad, my ass.” From her purse, she retrieves her recently-purchased copy of a new novel titled Jumanji, and she waits.

And waits.

…

Emma’s eyes snap open - she hadn’t consciously closed them to begin with. She realizes with embarrassment that she almost fell asleep standing up. God, she’s more exhausted than she thought. How long has she been standing down here anyway?

“I’ll be home from work around four; I just need a little time to tidy up before you head over,” Eddie had said on the phone the night before. “I’ll meet you in the lobby and walk you up at six, okay?”

“That works,” Emma had replied. “As long as you’re actually there at six.”

“Hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve never exactly had a reputation for being punctual.”

“Jesus, Em. You think I’m gonna leave you hanging out down there alone?”

“We’ll see.”

Shutting her book, Emma checks her watch.

Six forty-five. That fucking flake forgot.

She groans, pushing herself languidly off the wall and scanning the room for assistance. No one at the front desk - in fact, there hasn’t been anyone there since she arrived, making her wonder briefly if she’s even in the right building.

Her eyes next land on the myriad of mailboxes against the opposite wall, closed off from the rest of the lobby by rusted wrought-iron bars, most likely to protect the postman. She walks through the open gate tentatively, and upon closer inspection, each mailbox has a sticker labeling the residents by apartment number. Bingo!

It doesn’t take long to find what she’s looking for. On the eighth floor, perfectly spelled out for her, she sees both S. Dumond in 8B and E. Boulanger in 8H. Why not visit the one who didn’t leave her stranded for an hour first? She could always call Eddie on Sophie’s phone anyway - the asshole probably smoked a joint as soon as he got home and passed out on the couch watching Magnum, P.I.

She heads for the elevator and presses the call button. As it whines slowly and almost menacingly down the shaft, she hears someone softly trudging along behind her, the very first sign of another life in here. As she enters the elevator, she politely holds the door open, and makes room for the clown getting on after her.

No, not a silly person. An actual clown. Painted face, red nose, neon green hair and all.

Of all the weird people she might expect to see in a place like this… Not even two hours in Gotham, and the evening is already shaping up to be quite the roller coaster.

Emma can’t help but stare as the doors shut and the clown punches the button for, coincidentally, the eighth floor. She settles into the far corner as she discreetly analyzes him. His posture, his defeated gait, the pitiful expression underneath his painted-on smile… His aura permeates the entire space, seemingly enough to weigh them both down, causing the elevator to drag slowly up the shaft like molasses, screeching all the way.

This is without a doubt the saddest clown Emma has ever seen. And she’s seen Pagliacci.

Around the third floor, there’s one long, particularly loud screech. Emma’s heart leaps to her throat as their ascent suddenly comes to a complete halt, and the lights in the tiny elevator space flicker on and off once. Is a three-story drop enough to kill a person her size? She prays that this isn’t how it ends - in this dingy elevator, terrified, with no one but a fucking clown. A clown who hasn’t moved an inch this entire time.

Thankfully, after a few seconds that seem to drag on for a lifetime, they start to slowly crawl up the shaft once more. Emma breathes an audible sigh of relief, and the clown seems to finally notice her, tossing a quick look of sympathy in her general direction.

Once she’s certain she can speak without her voice quivering, she does so. “Does…that happen often?”

Her voice really gets his attention. He whips his head around so fast she almost worries his little hat will come flying off like a frisbee. He blinks at her once, then twice, as if processing the fact that she is addressing him. For a split second, it looks like he’s going to say something.

Then, remembering himself, he simply shrugs bashfully. Emma lets out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s been holding.

She notices the decorative red flower adorning his lapel, one of those prop flowers that’s actually a tiny water gun. Smiling in a way that she hopes is charming instead of ill-at-ease, she points to it. “I, uh…I like your flower. It’s very pretty.”

The clown tilts his head curiously. After a beat, he wordlessly reaches up and into his bright plaid coat, holding said flower slightly out toward her. Offering for her to come closer, to lean in and smell it.

Emboldened, she grins, shaking her head at him. “No way, mister. I know how that trick ends.” She’s kidding around with him, but she really can’t afford to get her clothes wet right now; she only has the ones on her back, after all.

Still, his lips at last curl upward, a real smile that reaches the lights of his eyes. And it’s then that Emma can see the color in them, an enchanting seafoam green that inexplicably draws her in, pulling her away from the corner and toward his side. He watches her carefully and intensely with an expression she can’t quite read. When he turns to face the doors once more, it’s not without keeping her settled in his periphery.

Most people would probably be a bit nervous being…examined so thoroughly. However, Emma finds his mannerisms endearing in an odd way. She’s never cared much for clowns before, but this one doesn’t seem so bad.

They ride in comfortable silence for another few moments. When they reach their destination, Emma is the first to exit.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely taking the stairs from now on,” she says.

The clown nods in response as he exits behind her, giant red and blue shoes flopping comically over the threshold.

The hallway is a bit noisy, voices of the residents drifting through the paper-thin walls like a mist, creating a fine haze over everything. The walls are just a touch too close together, making Emma claustrophobic and urging her to get to 8B as quickly as possible.

Not wanting to come off as rude, she introduces herself. “I’m new to the building, by the way - my name’s Emma. It’s a pleasure.” She extends a hand to shake.

The clown does return the gesture, but not before staring her hand down for an abnormally long period of time. And his grip through the rough material of his gloves is so soft and careful, it’s as if it’s barely there.

She’d honestly like to chat with this fascinating new neighbor of hers a bit longer, but instead, she pulls her hand away, settling for a polite nod and a cheerful “good night”.

She does not look back to see that the clown’s unwavering gaze follows her all the way down the hall.

#joker 2019 #Joker (2019)#joker #arthur fleck #sophie dumond #harley quinn #my fic #joaquin phoenix joker

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partyinthemysterymachine · 5 years ago

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🌻🌻🌻🌻 🚜 it's like a little garden!

hello lil garden <3 im gonna pick all the floweurs :3

there are like two dreams i remember pretty vividly: one, i had stigmata. (fun fact: i’m a jew) i woke up and i could feel the pain in my palms and feet. i was like. maybe in fifth or sixth grade. everything happens when i’m 13 or 14 because i have exactly zero memory and Bad Brain Disorder Origin Years just makes everything a sad mockery of mashed potatoes

the second dream i remember vividly was essentially that i discovered a door to Wonderland (and listen here u lil shits: i’m not a big Wonderland person, not even a Mad Hatter kinda gal despite whatever my past has said about me, and also my Jervis Tetch is super valid and prob one of the best out there you’re welcome) in this honestly gorgeous old mansion. the kind that’s just. tons of dark wood, narrow halls, winding and yet there’s a lot of natural light, like gorgeous. and i found a door to Wonderland and holy fucking shit

what i would give to actually find a door to that Wonderland, bye y’all peace it’s been a gas but i gotta run

so after i left i wanted to go back, and i had a rough time finding the portal and ok long story short it turned out i had to go deal with a unicorn cult (it was more intense than that but hey, cults amirite) in order to get the reagents to go back to Wonderland and i suddenly found myself falling in a huge cave and the spirit healer from WoW was there so that says a lot about where i was in my life at the time

still tryna go back to Wonderland

i made this guy in Sims4 and he’s really fuckin cute and i named him Lane Morgans. i’m gonna put his tag on this post so maybe you’ll go take a look at him and see how amazing he is but i’m just gonna jerk myself off here too

(also sidenote, Salutations (my farmer in sdv, also top notch) is his uncle and when i wrote up his first char sheet i fucked up his last name bc his last name can’t be Morgans, but i’ll give him another one Soon(tm) (no i won’t))

Lane is a retired rollercoaster engineer who is now writing romance novels. he’s doing absolutely amazingly and his twitter a mess in a good way. he wishes he was Chuck Tingle’s bff. his novels aren’t modeled after Tingle’s (hehe), he writes very well rounded, interesting, and diverse romance that doesn’t take itself seriously. because i do what i want, he’s pretty well known and on several bestsellers.

he’s like in his 40s by now i think and he’s a late transitioner. he’s a divorcee (he and his ex wife are really good friends it’s all good) and he had his son Ellis awhile back (who is just a whole dutch cookie tin of crayons and then some). at a singles mixer he met a gardener who would be his future husband and everything is amazing now

also side braids and ponytails run in the family i guess

(actually Salutations has been side ponytail like all his life and Lane was enchanted by it so he side braids. Salutations is very proud)

i still think about it honestly i was really into keeping up to date with junk food news and food product for a while there but the popular sites were starting to piss me off with their rating systems and reviews like holy entitlement and superiority complex, batman! so i dropped out of it, like the only one that is still super valid is onsecondscoop.com tho it’s been a real hot minute since

i have a lot of my parents’ vinyls and that includes The Beatles white album with some water damage bc i guess my dad knocked something over at some point but also the good stuff like Fleetwood Mac, Linda Ronstadt, America, Seals and Crofts, a lot of musicals, James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot, Cat Stevens (now Yusuf), Earth, Wind, and Fire, Marvin Gaye and more!!! (and i left a whole shitload in chicago too) and it’s very telling about my musical tastes.

i had ordered Arctic Monkeys’s AM album and it skipped on No. 1 Party Anthem and some other song and so i was like :\ and ordered another and you’ll never guess,

a few songs stand out to me:

Gordon Lightfoot’s Approaching Lavender

Seals and Crofts’s Hummingbird

Fleetwood Mac’s Silver Springs

James Taylor’s Never Die Young, Line ‘Em Up, Shower The People

(the Fleetwood Mac and James Taylor songs are specifically the ones i was introduced to with, as in the Live versions of Silver Springs and Shower The People)

for those who don’t know i’m also a huge Enya fan (LOTR was good to me) and Dark Sky Island was sick af btw, and also Donna Lewis’s entire Now In A Minute album is pretty fuckin close to my soul

however probably my favorite song, most sacred to me, hard to explain it but just the. whew the memories attached is I Love You Always Forever

furthermore a song that still really creeps me out (that also has an origin story attached to it) is 98 Degrees a cappella cover of She’s Out Of My Life (yep! still no thanks)

i grew up around a cappella since my mom is like a lifetime member of the Sweet Adelines womens a cappella organization or w/e so yeah and i’m not ognna link this on bc it’s a bitch to find just by itself, but Lida Rose from The Music Man is also a fist clench...

now on a more depressing note but one i have mention, Spice Girls’s Viva Forever is uuuhhh hhhhhhhhh hhhhhhnnnnmmmmmmmmmmm

anyway my dad used to travel overseas for work and when i was younger he went to Germany (and he’d go back there several times after) and he brought me back my first jar of Nutella. naturally i lost my entire shit, and imagine my surprise when Nutella got really big in America lmao he’d brought that jar home like. uh. 7, 9 years prior?? idk guys, ages and math, but it was funny to me

best fucking gingerbread recipe is by Nigella Lawson and i found it in her book How To Be A Domestic Goddess and it’s right fucking here ur welcome

i’m definitely one of those people who picks a book with a cool cover, reads a couple pages and then decides if i’m taking it or not and that’s how i found like so many good books

ask me about The Passage series and how i am both in love with it and kinda mad (also lmao @ the failed TV show y’all fuckin dumb as hell)

#ches writes #oops this got hella long #does a little jig #ok i think it's about bedtime #i love u <3 #adreamingofguns

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thequeenofcronuts · 6 years ago

Text

Justify My Love - Chapter 6 - If We’re Honest, Chasing You

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Book: The Royal Romance Word Count: 3,380 -ish Pairing: Maxwell x MC (Kristina Hampshire), Hana, Drake, OCs Warnings - Language

Series Tags @littleblossom357 @alj4890 @cosigottahavefaith

A/N In this TRR Series (Where books 2 and 3 are thrown to the wind): Kristina (MC) decides she cannot stay in Cordonia after the events of the Coronation Ball. Not so much caring about her own reputation, but caring for the life of the man she has been falling for, which is not the prince. She returns to New York and is faced with her heartbreak and regret while Maxwell is left in Cordonia struggling to understand the truth behind his feelings. Will they let each other go?

**All characters and named places are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Rights to the songs lyrics and titles in this series belong to:

Justify My Love (Madonna) - Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group, Reach Music Publishing, BMG Rights Management

If We’re Honest (Francesca Battistelli) - Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Chasing You (Jenn Johnson) - Bethel Music Publishing

——————————

Kristina’s POV

- If We’re Honest -

The three friends watch as Kristina completely falls apart in front of them. Finally, she is giving in to all of her emotions outside a random hotel room in Atlantic City. Lisa immediately kneels down to comfort the small, broken girl into deep, steady breaths worrying she will hyperventilate. “Kris, look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” She eventually talks her friend down enough to be breathing somewhat more evenly. Daniel helps her to her feet, supporting her weight. “Kris, I think it's time we talk.” She slowly nods in agreement while Stephen scoops her up in his arms and takes her into the room she and Lisa are sharing.

He gently sets her on one of the beds propping pillows behind her for support. Daniel grabs a box of the hotel’s tissues and sets them, and himself, to her left. Lisa cuddles up next to Kristina's right side, while Stephen sets himself at her feet. Kristina looks at her friend's eyes filled with concern and love. I can do this. I have to, it's time. It has to be now.

Lisa speaks, “Kris, we know the truth is harder than a lie. We so love you and are here for you, so trust us. Your truth is safe with us.” She reaches across her friend and places an arm around Kristina’s with her own tears trying to escape. She sees so much pain in Kristina's whole being and it's killing Lisa to watch. After Kristina takes a deep breath her first words croak from a broken and deep place inside her heart and soul.

She explains everything in detail from the night of the bachelor party to this minute with her finds. If I’m going to get help I can't hold anything back.

“So, the night and morning after the bachelor party…..”

“Flying to Cordonia looking for a fairytale…

“The Social Season in Cordonia is long and exasperating because…”

“Maxwell, who sponsored me as a suitor for his house…”

“At first Maxwell was like a brother, but his support was so genuine and he was always by my side. He made me laugh and so happy when he…”

“I was falling hard, and not for the prince like I should. I tried to tell Maxwell once that I was falling for someone else, but he reactions was…”

“I wasn't sure where to go next, the scandal with Tariq which wasn't even real. Tariq had…”

She filled in all the details as she recounted everything through the Coronation night. “And I was dragged from the palace and sent home. I was so in love, well I still am so in love with my sweet, crazy ball of energy, and being his little blossom is everything to me. But I lost my honor with the court, and gained a reputation that would only hurt him and his House. I couldn't stay knowing that I would hurt his future, and I would damage the reputation that I was asked to help save.”

“By the end of Social Season, I thought he may be feeling something too, but now I think I was so wrong. Like I explained, even though he is a goofy and foolhardy energy-filled sweetheart, he also is fiercely loyal. I felt even if some lost stars had actually aligned for us, he should be loyal to the responsibilities he had to his brother and his House. I couldn't ruin that by being selfish.”

“He chased after me to the airport, but the the men of the King’s Guard that were sent to make sure I got on that flight held him back. He couldn't run to me and while it hurt like hell hearing him yelling to me, I knew I needed to do what was right by him. I didn't know if he felt the same way about me, but I told myself I wasn't going to ruin his life, regardless.”

“So, here we are tonight and all this is why I’ve given up.” It's quiet for a long moment, almost too long. Kristina begins to panic thinking that maybe admitting all of her stupidity tonight has pushed her friends over an edge. Finally Stephen breaks the silence first. “Well holy shit Kris. First and foremost we love you and want to stand by you in all of your decisions, but I wonder if we should talk about them.” Lisa through her own tears holds Kristina as close as she can, “I never thought in a million years this kind of story was possible, to anyone really. But to you, well, whatever you need, I am here.” “Yeah,” a quiet Daniel is finally heard just above a whisper, “I obviously wasn't there, and can't understand it all, but Kris it sounds like you had amazing friends, best friends, taking care of my best friend. I would never be able to thank this Hana and Drake you told us about enough.” Daniel’s own tears dropping as he wish he could have been there for her, but was eternally grateful to the man and women he’ll never meet.

Stephen, the free spirit of the group is actually quite serious, “ Kris, I think you owe it to yourself and Maxwell to reconnect.” Kristina shakes her head vehemently. “No, there is no way I can without hurting him. I fucked up. I haven't read their texts or listened to any of their message, and none of them were from Maxwell anyway. He made his choice. And you all know I got a new number and phone to avoid what was going on in my life. No one has come looking for me. It's obvious that it's over.”

“Why? How? You can still contact them. You need to Kris. I can't watch you not living your life anymore. You're killing me.” Daniel looks down at his feet. “I’m so sorry Daniel, but I can't. I have to stay here so my problems can't ruin him. Plus I didn't move any of their numbers to my new phone. I can't find them.”

“FUCKING BULLSHIT KRISTINA!” She recoils at Stephen’s outburst and the his sudden use of her full first name.” “I have no idea how long it took you to really believe your own lie, but that's exactly what it is. You’ve hidden behind guilt and fear for too long. You don't even know if you did or didn't break his heart. You don't even know what he would have said before you got on that plane. And yet here you are still making up his own fucking mind for him. Stop it, no matter what is or isn't felt you can't be so selfish in this!”

Lisa is even hurt by her husband’s harshness. “What's done is done at this point Stephen, yelling at her doesn't accomplish a damn thing. All we can do is help and support her with whatever decisions she makes from now into the future!” Stephen groans. “Daniel, you’re awfully quite for being one of Kristina’s best friends.” She winces at the sound of Stephen using her full name again.

Daniel sits still for a minute more. “I can't be a ‘tie breaker’ here. Both you and Lisa have utterly strong points that are all valid.” He shifts turning to look deep into Kristina's red and puffy eyes. “Kris, you know your my best friend, and really more like a sister. I’m asking you to think hard about this, talk openly and honestly with me about it from here on out. We really are the only family each other has. I believe in my heart this isn't the end of this chapter in your life. I’m going to help you continue to write the next pages.” Kristina firmly hugs him. “We will too, Kris” Lisa nods to Stephen and he nods back. “Kris, lets talk about how to get your man back.”

The morning sun has been up for a while shining light into the darkness that was night. Taking Kristina by the hand, Lisa’s voice echoes though the room, “Lets get you a shower so you can be comfortable and get some sleep. We all need to get some needed sleep since we head home today. Stephen, would please you call down to the front desk and ask for late checkout. Daniel, make sure you sleep enough since you're the only driver on the car rental agreement. And Kris, your life begins again, now. We'll get him back.”

——————————

Maxwell's POV

- Chasing You -

“Thanks Bastien we’ll be at the townhouse shortly.” Drake ends the call and looks to Hana. “Bas looked at all of Tariq’s accounts in the last hour and everything in Tariq's spending points to him still being here in the same neighborhood.” “Drake?” “Yeah Hana? “You ever think about how scary it actually is that Bastien can find out almost everything about anyone?” Laughing Hana waits for Drake's response regarding the man that, for all intents and purposes, has been his father figure for so many years. “Well as long has he stays on our side and doesn't use his powers for evil”, they both smirk, “we should be okay.”

Maxwell begins to stir from his food induced coma, “That meal was incredibly remarkable! I would want to relive and revel in it with another go, but alas there are none in New York City. So, I will document it in my ‘Saving and Bringing My Kristina Home’ scrapbook. Which reminds me.” He grabs his phone. “Group selfie time. Say chheeeeessssseeeee.” Click. “Drake you look like we are driving to you to your own private hell… a night long ball. Look at least slightly less grumpy. This will go in Kristina's scrapbook and you want her look back fondly at her best friends in their quest.” “Fine. The things I do for her and you people.” “Here we go.” Click. “Awe Hana you look amazing! Drake you look, well like a somewhat less version of Grumpy Drake.”

“Lady Hana,” the driver addresses her, “as you requested we are arriving to the rendezvous point where you all will meet with the guards Bastien has sent to retrieve and return the subject.” “Thank you Rick.” Maxwell rubs his hands together. “So what's the plan guys? Kick down the door and take him out with blazing fists of glory? Or, Drake can use his mad defensive skills while I use my dancing skills to have the element of surprise and kick him down to pin him? Ooohhhh, are we crashing in through any windows, because if we are I wouldn't have worn one of my favorite shirts. You know fine fabric is no match for broken and shards of glass.”

“Maxwell, dear. We definitely appreciate your bold and vivacious desire to, um, handle Tariq-“ “But you’re not going.” Maxwell's face falls as he hears Drake's order. Thinking for a moment his face lights up again. “Great I idea Drake, I can get shots of the take down for the scrapbook from afar while no one notices. A perfectly covert operation. You guys are the best planners.”

Maxwell sees the frustration on Drake's face, which is now on the brink of anger. “EEPP!!” Maxwell squeaks and hides behind Hana the best he can in the car. Drake notices Hana's face light up like it does when she has a fabulous idea coming. “Drake, if Maxwell stays away and he can get some good pictures that might just help our cause. If Tariq comes willingly and it shows in the pictures, that could be used in the media for support of his statement.” “Ohhhhh, tricky Hana. I think you would be the quintessential spy. Oh my god, wait. Are you a spy Hana?” Maxwell's eyes widen as the realization hits him. Hana can't help but mess with him a little. “You’ll never know.” She winks. “That's exactly what a spy would say. Drake, keep an eye on her.”

Hana and Drake exit the car to get instructions from the guards and explain their plan of having Maxwell take pictures. “Please, please for the love of everything have someone be by Maxwell's side the whole time.” “We understand Mr. Walker,” Drake raises a hand, “just Drake.” “Yes, well Lady Hana and Drake we realize this will be our one and only chance here. None of us want to have to chase him again. Now if everyone is on the same page, the suspect will be arriving home in twenty minutes from retrieving his dinner and news periodicals. For someone who wishes to hide, he is rather predictable while keeping to an exact schedule. We won't be far from you two, and we have cast a wide net around the area in case he does run.”

Drake nods as he now has been given the entire plan. Hana begins to work into her extra charming character. “Right now I am so thankful for all the lessons to hide my true emotions. Rage on the inside, charm on the outside.” Everyone is in place with Maxwell complaining that he won't get any good shots from this angle and distance just when the expected return of Tariq is right on schedule. Hana and Drake wait for the signal to make their way and knock on the front door of the townhouse. After what feels like a lifetime with a few more knocks the door slowly opens.

‘Click’ Maxwell takes his first photo of the scene. The three have a moment of conversation on the porch then Tariq steps aside to let Hana and Drake in. ‘Click’. “Is that good or bad. Leaving them alone to just walk in like that? How can we know Tariq hasn't been planning something diabolical for a situation like this?” He asks the guard tasked with keeping him a safe distance away. “Please Lord Beaumont, I need to be able to listen for any calls on the radio.”

Minutes feel like hours. Maxwell checks the time. Only seven minutes have passed, though. Eventually the door opens again, Maxwell gets ready for more photos, but Hana and Drake walk out, alone. His heart sinks. Well assuredly will never get her to come back home without her name being cleared. Just as he is going to place his head in hands the townhouse door opens. Tariq has an overnight bag and walks with Hana and Drake. Oh my god! Oh my god! Maxwell almost drops his phone in astonishment but his hands move on their own and ‘click’ he gets the picture of the three as they walk toward the guards. It's another step in finding Kristina.

***************************

Hana, Drake, and Maxwell make the trek back to their hotel. Traffic isn't as bad as on the way to Tariq's, but still it's driving in LA. Maxwell asks a million questions on the way about their talk with Tariq. Of course in his excitement to really believe what's happening he asks some questions two or three times. Finally Hana and Drake get him to talk about their dinner plans and he agrees with his stomach growling. Room services it is again, as they pile into Hana's room.

As they eat Drake gets confirmation from Bastien regarding Tariq’s cooperation and getting on the plan, as well as the flight information for the three to head to New York in the morning. Liam also calls Drake with much appreciation and the promise of hearing everything about the day as soon as his schedule permits. While eating Maxwell knows the perfect song to add to his new playlist called ‘Bringing Kristina Home’. While immediately adding it, he sings to himself the first couple verses:

‘You hide, I want to find you Go, and I will follow you I want to be where you are As You move, I’m right beside you, love I’m running after you I want to be where You are’

‘I’m chasing You, I’m so in love Captivated, I just can’t get enough I’ll spend my days, running after Your heart Your heart, Your heart, whoa I’m chasing You, with all my love Captivated, I just can't get enough I’ll spend my days, running after Your heart Your heart, Your heart’

He feels a slight nudge. “Earth to Maxwell. Penny for your thoughts?” With the turn of his body towards Hana he can't contain the thrill of knowing he’ll be in New York tomorrow. He grabs her by the hand and moves her to the center of the room. She beams at him as they dance to only a rhythm he can hear with the song in his heart. “It's good to have to back, Maxwell.” She tells him as they sway.

‘Heart, You’ve won my heart and soul And where You lead I’ll go I want to be where You are From the moment I rise to the moment I sleep My affection is for you, and even as I dream I want to know you, I’m after Your heart’

‘I’m chasing You, I’m so in love Captivated, I just can’t get enough I’ll spend my days, running after Your heart Your heart, Your heart’

“While I can't believe I’m admitting this, out loud, but it's nice to see you being more you, Maxwell. But-“ “No, not tonight Drake. Can I hear the ‘but’ tomorrow?” Maxwell pleads. He stops dancing with Hana and looks out the window while Hana gives a nod to Drake for him to continue.

“Maxwell you need to know that while we are heading to New York tomorrow, Bastien hasn't been able to locate Kristina, and he knows more than we do. She closed all her accounts, let the lease on her apartment run out, and her phone seems to be disabled. He checked the bar but she isn't on the payroll. He made contact with the bar numerous times but each time he got the same answer, they have no idea where she is, they thought she was still in out of the country. That's when Liam knew that we had to take over completely ourselves. Bastien is needed for so many things for Liam and Cordonia. She could be in New York, or somewhere else entirely.”

“Maxwell, while everything Drake said is true, I know in my heart Kristina didn't leave New York. While I don't have proof right now, I know her best friend Daniel there is her only family. In America she has no one else.” Maxwell looks back at his friends. “I believe you're right Hana.” A smile creeping onto his face. “Drake, do we know how long Liam will cover this trip?” Letting out a rough breath and rubbing the back of his neck, “Honestly we don't. He wants her found and home as much as we do, but eventually…”

Maxwell beams, lighting up the entire room. “Well then, that's that. I believe what Hana knows and feels about Kristina, and for right now the three of us have unlimited resources. So I know in my heart we’ll find her, faster than you can imagine. My dreams are always big, and my determination to find her will never cease. Even if eventually I am on my own.” He dance walks to the door and heads out to the hall, but stops and spins back to his friends. “Get a good nights sleep and put those detective hats on kids, because we’ve got my lady to find.” He makes two guns with the fingers of his hands, pulls the triggers, and pretends to holster them. There is a skip in his step while he reaches his room. I’m coming for you, Kristina. Just wait for me.

‘This life, this love, was always meant to be A wild, crazy adventure discovering The thrill, the rush, the more of You I see The more it leaves me wanting You’re everything You’re everything’

‘I’m chasing You, I’m so in love Captivated, I just can’t get enough I’ll spend my days, running after Your heart Your heart, Your heart

#maxwell beaumont #maxwell x mc #the royal romance maxwell #trr maxwell #trr maxwell x mc #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices trr

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medschoolash · 7 years ago

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I wanted Jonerys to be canon since season 1 then season 7 happened and Dany pissed me off. I was introduced to Jonsa through your meta and it convinced me of Jonsa but let me tell you I haven't fully embraced them yet because I am skeptical. Most of the times the fans come up with these amazing metas only to be disappointed so I will not let myself get too attached to this ship. However what I want to know is that How did you start shipping Sansa and Jon? What made you see them as a couple?

First, sorry it took me forever to answer this ask. I’m so sorry, I got busy and I’m a terrible procrastinator.

I’m super honored that my little ole Jonsa meta introduced you to this ship and convinced you. You have no idea how happy that makes me. I don’t blame you for being skeptical tho anon. I’m used to shipping non-canon less obvious ships so it’s easy for me But I know a lot of people have a hard time latching on to things that are heavily built on subtext and go against what appears to be the more blatant direction the show or text wants you to go in. I’m a hoe for subtext and nuance so Jonsa was right up my alley but I know everyone isn’t like that So yeah I don’t blame you for not wanting to get attached because it’s hard to see good theories go to hell because sometimes viewers are smarter than the creators. I don’t think that’s the case with GOT/asoiaf which works in our favor.

So you want to know how did I start shipping Sansa and Jon and What made me see them as a couple. Here’s my journey:

When season 6 started I was looking forward to seeing what happened with Sansa. Last we saw her she was jumping off the walls of Winterfell with Theon. I knew it was inevitable that if she Survived the jump she would make her way to the wall and Jon. I had been waiting for a stark reunion for seasons and even tho Jon and Sansa were the last two I expected to reunite first, I couldn’t wait to see the reunion happen. I knew no matter what it would be emotional and satisfying. I was not prepared for how big the reunion felt and what came after. The way it was handled gave me serious emotions that I never expected to feel so strongly and found the way they handled to be interesting but I never looked deeper into it because I didn’t see a reason to. However the season continued and gradually Jon and Sansa’s relationship started to feel like a really big deal. It was more than just two starks coming together after all this time, it felt like the start of the resurgence of House Stark with Jon and Sansa at the center as equals. This was surprising to me because as I said I never ever predicted these two stark siblings to be the most linked as the series starts to get wind down. Every one of their interactions felt important and game changing even before I saw the potential for romance and it wasn’t just because they were starks but it was because of the way they were written and the way their scenes were framed. Sansa touching Jon’s hand felt huge even if I couldn’t quite figure how why. Sansa giving Jon his cloak modeled after their father’s felt like a monumental development, Jon deciding to fight a war he has no interest in fighting for Sansa and his family felt like it was huge for Jon. I felt like being around each other brought some important developments to both Jon and Sansa as characters at a crucial time and changed things for them and the entire plot of the show. Even without romance you just got the sense that these two people together were important for a reason beyond just being newly reunited siblings . The narrative centered the two of them and Sansa as a character in a way they had not done for Sansa and other couples in seasons prior and I didn’t know why at the time but I remember feeling like the answer to why would come and would surprise me and everyone else.

They very clearly put lots of effort into how they handled Jon and Sansa in season 6 and they were the driving forces behind the resurgence of house stark so it was clear that the future of the house connected to the two of them in some way. Marriage/romance just never crossed my mind because based on the knowledge I had Starks don’t do incest. When I noticed an odd tension that could be interpreted as sexual/romantic towards the end of season 6 (particular the tent scene, the forehead kiss and everything post BOTB) I brushed it off for the reason I mentioned above but my fascination with that tension never went away. It was there, but I didn’t know why and I couldn’t wrap head around a possible answer so I just didn’t dwell on it.

Season 6 ended with the Jon being a targaryen reveal and obviously that was a big reveal and would be major but IMO the moment Jon was named King in the North was the bigger game changer of the two. Jon had amassed power and loyalty before but it was always connected to the wall which was isolated from the rest of the storylines. Suddenly that wasn’t the case anymore and Jon is given power over the entire north. Suddenly Jon is in the middle of the game at a time where it’s stakes are about the be the highest they have ever been…..and only one person was at his side when it happened….Sansa. Jon being named King in the North shook me because up until that point he and Sansa were equals in the future of house stark, neither wanted to be elevated above the other. Jon didn’t even seem to want to be an equal he seemed content to hand Sansa what was rightfully hers. We even watch them discuss who would take the Lord’s chambers and both believe the other deserve it. They talk about being in this together and trust and it’s clear that they just want to rebuild their home together, as equals but then suddenly Jon becomes the power player. It made me wonder where that would leave Sansa, who clearly wants to be and deserves to be at Jon’s side and an equal. The scene where he’s named King even starts with Jon and Sansa side by side listening to their bannermen and the lords of the Vale together. At that point I was like “aww the stark siblings are gonna run Winterfell together this is perfect” then Jon is named King and Sansa is left at his side with an ambiguous expression on her face but appears to support him and I was stuck.

Jon being named King changed everything to me. Kings don’t run their kingdoms with their sisters unless they are a targaryen who’s married to one lol. Basically after that there was no way Sansa could truly be Jon’s equal unless she somehow became his queen and Sansa can’t be his queen because she’s his sister and Starks don’t do incest. Sansa clearly had a role to play in the north but now I wasn’t sure what that role was going to be. We went from a narrative where Jon and Sansa were centered to one where Jon alone is being centered when it comes to the north but I knew there was no way Sansa would just disappear into the background. LF had already let it slip that Sansa could sit at his side on the iron throne so Sansa was still a factor in the larger game. That was my line of thinking so it caused this dilemma where I wasn’t sure what to think or where this was headed but I knew that Jon and Sansa were not gonna be torn apart on season 7 like they wanted us to believe and that Sansa’s rise to power would not be ending with this.

Then season 7 started and Right away my confusion from the end of season 6 disappears. Immediately Sansa’s position is clear:

“Ned starks bastard has been named King in the North and that murdering whore stands beside him” -Ceresi Lannister

Right off the bat Sansa is positioned at a power player at Jon’s side, as a de facto queen, not as a sister chillen on the sidelines as her brother rules a kingdom. Cersei’s quote immediately stood out to me because it was an odd but direct parallel with Ceresi and Jamie. Ceresi rules as queen as her lover and brother stands at her side. It felt like an odd connection to make at the time but it fit and was too blatant to deny so my spidey sense immediately went off.

Next we actually see Sansa at Jon’s side in exactly the way Ceresi described. Jon attempts to rule with Sansa at his side and Jon clearly has command of his people but Sansa isn’t a silent passive prop like a sister of the king usually would be. Sansa intervenes in front of the Lords leading to some awkward tension and and confusion on my part.

Then we see them bicker and the way it’s framed becomes too obvious for me to ignore. They are framed like a husband and wife, they hit below the belt and compromise and seek validation from each other like married people do. Nothing about that Shit felt like two normal royal siblings so I was fascinated. They Lord over Winterfell like they are Ned and Catelyn reincarnated which is super weird for two siblings. There was also this sense that there was something being left unsaid between them. Like this weird tension that’s unexplainable didn’t just come out of nowhere. After this I was pretty much convinced that Sansa was gonna be positioned as a queen at Jon’s side and I found the prospect to be exciting and fascinating , but that confused me because I had the same block I had before…..how can Sansa be Jon’s queen when she’s his sister/cousin and Starks don’t do incest? I felt the urge to ship but shipping them romantically didn’t make sense because Starks and incest don’t go together. So once again I brushed my feelings off and stopped myself from shipping it thinking I was reading too much into it all.

In the following days after the premiere aired the stills for episode 2 dropped and we get a picture of Jon leaving Winterfell looking back at what’s more than likely Sansa with such hesitation and overwhelming affection in his eyes and we get one of Sansa looking out to Jon leave as if she’s saying goodbye to her husband aganist her will be she determined to hold their home down while he’s gone. I was like “holy shit why do they look like husband and wife separating” I was shook shook shookity shook. I was basically Jonsa trash from that moment on because the Shit was undeniable but I was still in denial because….you guessed it, Starks don’t do incest…..

Then somebody finally decided to put me on game and told me that Starks actually do practice incest between cousins and that Ned’s parents were cousins and that it’s actually really common in Westeros among noble houses and after that it all made so much damn sense I hopped my ass on board and knew I would be going down with this ship.

I started to see them as a couple and as a legitimate possibility because the politics made sense they always made sense and far more sense than any alternative. Sansa bend the key to the north since and being groomed for ruling since season 1 started to come full circle. The connection to build on was clearly there, they were so important to each other and came to each other at a crucial time. Their affection felt tangible even tho neither is keen on expressing it verbally. The two of them just fit and them being centered as the roots from which house stark gets to flourish once again in season 6 started to make all the sense in the world and appeared to indeed be deliberate like I thought it was. Sansa was clearly the queen the North needed and the queen Jon needed at his side. He would do anything for her, he would love her in a really pure and overwhelming way that she deserves after all she’s been through. They had a dynamic that allowed them to challenge each other and still have a very healthy and loving dynamic. Sansa and and Jon are better together. They share the same core values and beliefs and where one is weak the other balances them out.

they are at their best when they are closely bound and at the center of their house and nothing could seal that like a potential romance/marriage. Sansa was the balance that Jon needed to be the great ruler that he is clearly meant to be. Jon was the man that Sansa needed to make all the scars hurt a little bit less. I started to see them as a couple because they were framed as one and acted as one and could actually make a really great one. Once I realized that the incest hurdle was conquerable it was actually super easy to see Jon and Sansa as a couple and see them as a legitimate possibility for the future.

#Jonsa #jonsa commentary #Jon x Sansa #answered

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lilsherlockian1975 · 7 years ago

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22 Warstan (can it be Sherlolly wedding? But not necessarily) :)

What a challenge! I’ve never written ‘Warstan proper’ before. Thankfully, the lovely @mizjoely looked over it for me (since she’s an amazing Warstan writer). Thanks, Miz!! And thank you @mychakk for the prompt. This one was fun!

How in the name of all things good and holy did Sherlock sodding Holmes beat me to the altar? John wondered as he watched his best friend dance with his lovely wife.

Not that he was in some great hurry to get married, exactly. Although… he was six years older than the detective and not getting any younger. The detective who, for the record, had sworn off all things love and sex-related! John could personally attest to the fact that Sherlock did indeed enjoy ‘pleasures of the flesh’ as the berk had once described, because until the week before he’d slept above the very vocal couple.

Looking down at his empty glass, he mumbled, “I need another drink.” then made his way towards the bar. When he got there, he waited patiently while a balding man in his late fifties ordered the most complicated beverage since the Babylonians first fermented honey.

Finally, the man took his pink and purple monstrosity and left, grinning like a fool. John stepped up. “I need something strong,” he said. “Preferably a lot of it.”

The bartender, a pretty blonde, wasn’t paying attention, too busy glaring at the man with the complicated drink. “If you order something with fewer than six cherries, I’ll name my firstborn after you,” she finally said, turning to face him.

Mercy… She wasn’t pretty; she was beautiful. Exquisite. Stunning. “Gorgeous…” he mumbled unintentionally.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

He quickly realised what he had done. “Ah, that was a gorgeously bad drink,” he rushed. Gorgeously bad? He shook his head. It’ll have to do.

“I know! I don’t get paid enough to experiment nor do I care to. Doesn’t he know you order the most expensive liquor at an open bar? That entire drink had a half shot of bottom shelf rum.”

John laughed, his mood immediately lifting, but suddenly a look of fear broke out on the bartender’s face.

“Shit! I… do you know him? You’re in the wedding party, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, but no, I don’t have a clue who that was. Probably some distant relative I’ve yet to meet.” He held out his hand. “I’m John, the best man.”

The woman shook his hand, brightening slightly. “The best man? That’s a funny last name.”

John laughed. “Adorable.” Again, he’d not intended to say it out loud. What the hell’s wrong with me today? he wondered. He was way off his game.

But the woman just smiled, then held up a single finger and winked before disappearing through the door next to the bar. A minute later she reappeared holding something behind her back. “This is the really good stuff,” she whispered as she poured him a glass of Talisker.

John whistled. “No kidding,” he said as he took the glass of whiskey. Everyone was either dancing or eating, so he thought he’d take the time to chat with the woman who’d just handed him a very large, very expensive drink. “Ah, do you work for the venue or the catering company?”

“Neither actually. A friend of mine works for the caterers but he broke his leg and asked me to fill in for him. Luckily, I’ve tended bar before. Unluckily, I’d forgotten how much I hate it.” She looked toward the dancing couples as she finished with, “I’m sort of in between jobs.”

John remembered that feeling. Not too long ago he was barely making ends meet. Now he had two jobs (three if you counted part-time Sherlock-sitting). He was just about to ask about her previous employment when he was interrupted by his best friend.

“Ah, John, there you are,” Sherlock said. “I might have known I’d find you chatting with the lovely Mary here.”

“You two know each other?”

“No. We just met a couple of hours ago but she won my admiration when she told Mycroft to bugger off after referring to her as the help.”

“I didn’t know he was your brother, Sherlock. I just assumed he was some government pencil pusher with a superiority complex.”

“And you weren’t wrong in that assessment, Mary. Can I get some cool water for Molly? She’s not feeling well.”

The woman nodded.

“What’s wrong with her?” John asked.

“The champagne didn’t agree with her and she’s a bit light-headed,” Sherlock explained.

Mary handed him a glass of water. “No wonder, Sherlock. Pregnant women, especially in the first trimester, are very sensitive to certain tastes. She’s probably a bit overheated as well. You should take her outside for some fresh air. Also, some plain crackers wouldn’t go amiss.”

John was about to admonish Sherlock for not telling him about Molly’s pregnancy when he noticed the look on his face.

“Molly’s… pregnant? Sherlock whispered. He’d gone white as a sheet and his eyes were suddenly comically large.

Mary’s face fell. “Oh my God! I assumed you knew, what with being… well, who you are and all.”

“Pregnant?!” the detective said a little louder.

John saw the oncoming freak-out well before it happened, but there was no stopping it. Sherlock turned and dashed toward his new bride, shouting her name as he ran. Molly, who was sitting a few tables away from the bar, talking with Mike Stamford, tried to calm her husband, but he well and truly lost it. He picked her up - actually picked her up!- and carried her out of the building as the entire room watched.

“Bugger! I feel awful,” Mary said as the door closed, cutting the couple off from the crowd.

“Not your fault. I don’t know how he missed it. He knows… everything,” John said, then something occurred to him. “How did you know, by the way?” That was some Sherlock level deducing.

“I’m a nurse and…” She suddenly seemed a bit shy. “… I can read people, a bit.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “It came in handy in my former job.”

“Which was..?”

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” she said with a smirk, though, for some reason John half believed her.

“That almost seems worth it.”

Mary laughed. “Maybe.”

He really couldn’t take it anymore. She was funny and intelligent and beautiful and mysterious. Throwing caution to the wind, he asked, “What are the chances I could get your number?”

“Pretty good, I’d say.”

“Yeah?

“What would you do if I gave it to you?” she asked.

I’d marry you, he thought, or at least he thought he thought, until he saw the surprised and, thankfully, pleased look on the woman’s face. “Oh, damn. I did it again, didn’t I?”

Biting her lip, Mary nodded. “I’m sure it’s just the Talisker,” she said, gesturing to the drink in his hand.

He had only taken one sip. Bless her! The woman wasn’t only stunning and smart, she was compassionate too. “Are you sure you want to give me your number?” he asked, wondering if he’d just ruined his chances.

“Positive,” she replied. “But I promise not to hold you to that proposal.”

She lied. They were married six months later.

Thanks again. Hope you liked it! ~Lil~

#warstan #sherlolly #mychakk #prompt

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fingerless-glovez · 5 years ago

Text

Tales of Home Point: Welcome Home

Eight children were orphaned after a dreadful bus crash stole their parents away from them. They were a loving couple, and although they were...eccentric to say the least, they were good parents.

After the accident, the children's aunt on their mother’s side took them in. She and her husband were extraordinarily rich and sophisticated. They lived in a large mansion with six bedrooms, six bathrooms, a ballroom, a library, an enormous labyrinth magnificent dining hall, and a swimming pool that you’d swear was from a beautiful tropical resort. Many staff served the couple everyday, although they were really just for show.

The aunt and her husband resented the idea of raising her sister’s rowdy little demon spawns. And so they decided; if the children were to live in their home, they would have to make them refined high-class ladies and gentlemen.

The pompous couple started by changing the children’s names, which they had deemed “too odd”. They would now be known as Dominic, Julian, Elizabeth, Katelyn, Ryan, Henry, Clementine, and Sebastian Halewell.

They were made to hand over their charms to restrict them from their animal forms, and to remove the vibrantly colored streaks and highlights from their hair. She then hid them in various places.

A governess was hired to teach them math, make them read long and old books, and teach them how to be proper and perfect.

They were stuffed into fancy clothing; suits, ties, frilly dresses that were sickly pale in color, at least 3 layers of heavy makeup, and shoes that were forbidden to be made dirty. And these were just their casual outfits.

Because the aunt hated the children’s father, anyone from their paternal family was banned from having any contact with them. Those ruffians would only hinder her plan to make perfect children. She was hellbent on succeeding where her parents failed. No niece or nephew of hers would end up like her sister.

This was easier said than done though, especially for the oldest girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 31st, 2013

“Elizabeth,” Victoria Halewell flatly addressed her eldest niece, not even looking at her, “elbows off the table. Why must I remind you everyday? And please, no slouching at the dinner table.”

Eleven year-old Elizabeth Halewell internally groaned as she sat up straight. She glanced around at her siblings before briefly making eye contact with Du-no, that’s not his name anymore, you should know this by now-Julian. He quickly looked back at his food, probably hoping his bigger sis hadn’t seen him looking pitifully at her. She smiled lightly, grateful for some sympathy.

God, she hated this house. Day in-day out, it was always the same; “Elizabeth, get that ugly little piece of hair out of my sight.” “Elizabeth, please walk like a normal person. Your feet point to the sides and it’s very awkward to look at.” “Elizabeth, don’t touch your face. You’re ruining your makeup.”

“Elizabeth,” John’s stale voice interrupted another one of her episodes of resentment. “Will you quit that fidgeting? It’s making us all incredibly uncomfortable.”

“In fact,” Victoria added, “why don’t you just excuse yourself? If you’re not going to eat then don’t ruin meal time for the rest of us.”

Elizabeth, doing the best she could to “properly” remove herself from the scene (which failed and got another pointer from her aunt because, you know, Elizabeth was Elizabeth), kept her head down as she trudged up to one of the bathrooms to wash the makeup off of her face. She looked at herself in the mirror as mascara tricked down her face. Pathetic. she thought.

She then went to her room, closed and locked the door, and plopped face first onto her bed and groaned. Another night in my personal luxurious prison cell. All by myself.

She and her other siblings were all designated to a certain room. Her brothers, Dominic, Julian, Liz-no-Ryan, Henry and Sebastian all shared a room with twin mattresses. The two of the triplets, Henry and Di-get it right kid-Sebastian shared the bottom bunk since there was an odd number of boys. Her sisters, Katelyn and St-Clementine, the other triplet, also shared a room with twin mattresses.

Elizabeth slept in a bedroom alone. It was John’s way of getting her to behave. She was always isolated from the rest of her siblings because of her...faults. No, not just her siblings. Her aunt and uncle basically ordered everyone in the house to completely ignore her very existence unless she did something wrong. And it wasn’t going to stop unless she got her act together and erased her stupid flaws. Julian would occasionally try and sneak away to visit, but Aunt Victoria quickly put a stop to that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 1st, 2014

Elizabeth jolted up from her bed. She heard something. It sounded like...singing? She glanced around. Then she saw it. A small red something. It was hovering above her bedroom balcony. The second she blinked, it was gone. But the singing continued.

Originally, Elizabeth tried to block out the sound. But, after numerous failed attempts to muffle singing under her pillow, she found herself on the balcony. She sat, legs crossed, on the steel railing. The view was nice, even if she hated everything else about her living situation, she still loved to look at the snow as descended onto the ground. Between the clouds, the moon shined exquisitely in the sky. If only she could get closer to it.

Then, she heard it again.

What is that? Elizabeth wondered, Why is calling me?

Calling. That was the best way to put it. Like a siren, it cried to her, and Elizabeth wanted to find it. Badly.

Elizabeth stood on the balcony, stepping away from the rail. Then, she jumped over, flipped, and landed gracefully onto the top of the rail. With her arms out for balance, she turned left and stepped across the thin iron like she was walking on a tightrope. She looked up, noticing where the roof stuck out above the balcony door. She stepped towards it, then she leaped. She got a firm grip on the edge and skillfully climbed up.

Elizabeth was now on the roof. The wind sped through her hair and made her dress flap like mad. Flakes of snow whirled like a tornado around her. It was cold, but she didn’t care. Her eyes were locked on the prize.

The glowing red something was about ten feet away. Elizabeth took one step, and it flew towards her. Elizabeth braced herself for impact, but felt nothing. She opened her eyes and gazed mystified at the something. A little red triangle that dangled from a silver chain.It was her charm.

Her stolen charm! It was here, right in front of her face!

The small ruby triangle zipped around her body. It seemed to be studying her. Then it slowly flew in front of her face again. Suddenly it zoomed away. Elizabeth bounded after it.

You’re not getting away from me! Not again!

The charm dashed to every corner of the roof. Elizabeth chased it relentlessly, vaulting over the chimney, jumping across gaps in the roof, and sliced throw the cold snow as the sky dumped it upon her. That charm was hers.

Suddenly the charm stopped. Elizabeth caught up with it at the highest point of the roof. She stood confused as to why it stopped. The charm hovered over to her right side, the two links on the ends snapping open and attaching to the pink sash around her waist.

Now Elizabeth was the one glowing. She whipped around, confused and a little bit anxious about what was happening. She felt weightless. She felt herself...changing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth gazed at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was beaming with pure ecstasy.

For the first time since her parents died, she looked like herself. Short silver hair with green streaks lacing it. A long silver and white horse’s tail. Fluffy gray wolf ears that twitched with excitement. A giant pair of tannish pegasus wings that ripped through the back of her faint pink dress.

Holy crap, this is awesome!

“Welcome back,” purred a voice from behind her. Elizabeth spun on her heel to see a familiar face in the doorway. “Ace.”

No. The coyote man with black and purple hair and shiny blue eyes couldn’t possibly be here. She slapped herself in the face to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. The pain was there.

“Thunder?” she breathed.

“Glad to see you again, third biggest nephew.” The uncle, Thunder, opened his arms for a hug. Ace nearly knocked him to the ground.

After a nice long hug, Trace pulled away. “How did you get in here?”

“Well, it went a little something like this,” Thunder explained. “I got to town by ship. You never knew, but I swing by every other week just to check up on my brother’s kids.” Ace smiled, happy to know that someone cared about him.

“When I got to the house and saw you running around on the roof chasing a red thing like a runaway balloon. Then there was a big white light. So, I snuck in through the window and started looking for you.”

“But, what exactly happened? And why didn’t it happen, like, I dunno, when Victoria made us put the charms in the box in the first place?”

“Beats me. All I know is that you’re here, and you’re back in your animal form.”

“So...what about everyone else? Why haven’t their charms come to them?”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re the only one that hasn’t changed.” Thunder looked away from his nephew. “I’ve seen what those pieces of shit aunt and other uncle of yours have done to them. Their spirits are shattered, their personalities are bleached, and they just look...empty.”

Thunder smiled, giggling like he was drunk. Trace cocked his head, making him choke out a laugh.

“But, you...you’re just like Venice. You’re tough, stubborn, smart-mouthed, you do that thing with your head when you’re confused...you’ve got your dad’s charm, kid!”

Ace shuttered internally. This was getting too sappy for him. If he didn’t change the subject soon, he’d be crying.

“So...what’s next?”

Thunder ceased his monologue and pulled himself together.

“I’m taking you home.”

Ace’s eyes lit up, but then they dimmed again. “All of us?” Thunder shook his head.

“I’ve only got a change of clothes for you. The sad truth I’ve learned is that...they won’t leave. Not while under Victoria’s control. They’d rat me out the second they see me. And you, you can’t stay here any longer. You’re hard, but you’re not indestructible. I don’t want my brother’s closest child to end up like the rest of them.”

“But what about my siblings? Can’t we tell them where we’re going?”

“Well,” Thunder said, “there is one...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Rusty!” Ace whisper shouted as he shook his brother awake. Julian, or rather, Rusty, grumbled.

“Ugh...Sebastian...what do you want…? Go back to bed...”

With a grunt of impatience, Trace grabbed Rusty by his night shirt’s collar and slapped him in the face. Rusty’s eyes burst open as he plopped back into his pillow.

“Ow!” Rusty sat up and rubbed his cheek. In that few seconds, he went from grumpy, to enraged, to stunned.

Ace was still in his animal form, but was wearing a red hoodie, blue jeans, black and white sneakers and had his hair up in a loose ponytail. The green streaks were clearly visible, as was the chain with his charm dangling from two belt loops.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“E-Ace? What are you doing up this early?” Rusty put his glasses on and looked at his clock. It was 3:35 AM.

“I, uh, just wanted to let you know that...I’m leaving.”

Rusty, much like Ace, cocked his head, bewildered. “Leaving? Where are you going?”

Ace didn’t hesitate. “Thunder is giving me a lift back to Home Point-”

“Thunder?!” Rusty hissed.

“Yeah, Uncle Thunder. You know, that one guy we’re supposed to hate? Dad’s brother? Don’t pretend, Rusty, I know you talk to him too.”

By now, Rusty was out of bed and looking at his oldest younger brother with eyes that pleaded for him to say that he was joking. Ace, in return, gave him a look that said that he wished he was.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” Ace said to break the silence. Rusty stared at him for a few more seconds.

“Why not?”

“You’ve seen how the other six are, you’re the only one I trust not to tip off Victoria. Besides I already forged my own dummy in my bed-why are you looking at me like that?”

A smile had cracked across Rusty’s face. “I always figured you’d be the first to leave. Okay, I’ll keep your secret. That is, of course, if you can keep mine.”

The moment he saw his brother tilt his head was the moment he rolled up his sleeve to reveal his arm brace, fashioned by a softly glowing citrine triangle. Stars were now in Ace’s eyes.

“You, too?”

“The thing had me running all around the labyrinth. It stopped a few times to let me catch my breath. I’m pretty sure it was making fun of me. Then I had to go out and buy a wig to hide my hair.” Rusty pulled off his wig to reveal the golden streaks in his pitch black hair.

“So why didn’t you leave?” Ace inquired.

“Someone would’ve noticed. I guess I’m a tad too good at pretending to be someone I’m not, and now they like me. You, on the other hand…”

His brother met him with an eyeroll. “Yeah…”

“But, the other thing is, you’re braver than me. I’d be so overwhelmed by the pros and cons of booking it for Home Point that I’d have to slam my face into a sink of cold water. You’re not a wimp like me.”

“Ah, shyuddup, you’re not a wimp. You had the audacity to exclude me from Twister, remember?”

Rusty smirked at him and pulled him into a hug. Ace gladly returned the favor.

“So long, my dude.”

“Good luck, my good man.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the crack of dawn. The wind had calmed down as Trace and his uncle strolled down the North Dakota street. They were fairly under dressed, Ace being his human form and still in the dress his aunt had stuffed him into, but they weren’t bothered too much.

Thunder, back in his human form, was wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and a blue scarf. His hair remained black with purple edges.

“So...uh,” Ace said to his uncle, “where are we going?”

“To meet Spencer.” Thunder replied.

“Spencer?”

“My wife. She’s waiting for us at the docks.”

“You’re married?”

“With a kid. Kinda. I’m actually her stepdad.”

“How old?”

“Seven year old little rascal. But she’s really sweet once she starts to like ya. Name’s Pip.”

“What’s she into?”

“Demons.”

“Interesting topic. Please, go on.”

The two chatted until they had reached the harbor. There, a blonde woman with rosy red tips ran up to them. At least, until she slipped and face-planted into the snow.

“Is that my aunt?” Ace inquired, completely unfazed.

“That’s your aunt.” Thunder replied.

“Is she seriously wearing a T-shirt during January? In North Dakota?”

“She’s Canadian.”

“Lucky…” Ace grumbled, embarrassed to be twitching in the cold.

Once Spencer had gotten up and situated herself, she continued her trek to her husband and nephew, more carefully this time.

“Hello, husband.” She said, putting herself up on her tiptoes to kiss Thunder on the cheek, as Thunder was pretty tall.

“And hello there!” She exclaimed, bending over to see the boy with her husband. “You’re Ace, right?”

The eleven year-old nodded and Spencer continued.

“Thunder’s told me all about you. I’m so sorry about what happened to your parents.”

“It’s okay. I’m over it.” Ace lied as he shrugged. Spencer obviously didn’t believe him. “Mostly.”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Thunder quickly intervened. Ace and Spencer awkwardly laughed it off and thanked him.

After about four years of being trapped in Victoria’s mansion, Ace was elated to see a Dungeoneeran ship again. When Spencer asked if he wanted to to meet her in the crow’s nest, the immediate answer was “Oh my god, YES!” The two reverted to their animal forms and climbed to the top of the ship.

Spencer was a squirrel and panda hybrid. She had a purple squirrel’s tail and ears, and big purple spots around her eyes. Her hair was long and pink, still with the rosy red tips, and she wore a white T-shirt with watercolor hearts on it, blue leggings with stars, and fuzzy brown boots. On her arm was a bracelet that held her smokey quartz charm, as well as smaller charms that were designed to be fruit.

“So, the reason I brought you up here,” Spencer said to Ace once they reached the crow’s nest, “I wanted to give you something.”

Spencer pulled a blue cloth from out of her front pocket. The cloth was an hombre of shades that started rather dark from the top, but was lighter at the bottom. And no matter which way you turned it, the order of shades was always the same from top to bottom.

“We told Pip that she was going to meet you on New Year’s day, and she really wanted to give you something. But the kid’s all worn out from staying up all night and fast asleep at my mom’s house.”

“So...what is it?” Ace asked, curiously examining the gift.

“It’s phantom’s fabric.” Spencer continued. “It gives you the power to become invisible and faze through walls. I tried it myself.”

Ace tied the cloth around his neck, making it a bandana. The material felt quite nice, he had to admit.

“Where did she get this?”

“Thunder mentioned that Pip likes demons right?” Ace nodded. “Well, she has a little demon friend who is actually her age. He gave it to her to give to you.”

“I’ll never take it off.” Ace said, beaming.

After a few minutes, the entire ship was engulfed in pink fog. Spencer and Ace became excited knowing what was coming next.

“HEY, GUYS!” Thunder called from the deck. The two in the crow’s nest made their way down to hear what he had to say.

“We’re almost to the whirlpool. Grab onto something sturdy.”

Ace dashed to the front of the ship and fastened his grip on the rail. After a few moments of eager anticipation, his eyes widened at the bright glow to the whirlpool.

The ship drifted right across it, and then the circling started. Thunder turned the wheel slowly in the opposite direction to keep them from going down too fast.

This is it, Ace thought as the water was nearly at his level. I’m never getting chained down, again.

#dungeoneers #tales of home point #finally fuckin finished it #rusty o'mally #thunder o'mally #spencer o'mally #victoria halewell #john halewell #ace o'mally

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bronzeflower · 8 years ago

Text

Who The Fuck Writes A Ten-Page Rant?????

Also on ao3

-----

Chapter 7: Literary Device Kingdoms

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

TG: roooooooose TG: rose TG: rose TG: are you there

TT: Yes, Dave, I am here. TT: And it seems like you have adapted John’s penchant for using eight letters at a time for emphasis on various words.

TG: what really TG: goddamn it

TT: Yes, this appears to be a despicable habit that we must rid you of.

TG: please do TG: i dont want a total of eight letters exactly all the time to haunt me for the rest of my life TG: but that isnt what i came here to talk about

TT: Did you perhaps pester me to inform me of your previous conversation with Karkat?

TG: hell yeah i did

TT: I only assumed because that is what you were bugging me about previously.

TG: that is a pretty good assumption to make TG: anyway the conversation i had with karkat was really nice TG: hes a lot shoutier over text than voice TG: he types in all caps like holy shit TG: so angry TG: does some long ass metaphors TG: im still the best at them but karkat may be shooting for my place on the throne TG: make a note to watch out for that

TT: It has been noted.

TG: thank you for that rose TG: best goddamned advisor i ever had TG: i trust you completely TG: wow i sound like one of those kings that trust their shitty and evil advisor without a single thought that their advisor could potentially want to overthrow them TG: are you going to take over my kingdom rose

TT: I have no interest in ruling the Kingdom of Metaphors. TT: I am perfectly happy here in my “Palace of Prose.”

TG: thank fucking god TG: i dont think i could handle a rebellion TG: shits dangerous you know TG: do each of us get a literary device kingdom TG: if i have the kingdom of metaphors and you get the palace of prose TG: which is an awesome name btw TG: like is john the king of hyperbole TG: or jade the queen of personification TG: do they get kingdoms TG: are they opposing kingdoms TG: or are they all good friends and shit TG: does every single literary device get a kingdom or is only major ones TG: these are important questions here rose

TT: I’m not sure if John would be suited to the role of ruling over the hyperbole commonwealth. TT: I’m certain he would need to have some sort of training first. TT: He would need to become the heir to the kingdom. TT: Or he should rule over some other literary device.

TG: that makes me wonder what literary device he would rule over TG: hold up let me pull up a list TG: holy shit there are a lot of literary devices TG: i dont know what half this stuff is TG: shit ton of different types of irony TG: what the fuck is a zeugma

TT: A zeugma is a literary device that is both literal and metaphorical. TT: For example, “they covered themselves in dust and glory.”

TG: thats actually pretty cool

TT: Quite.

TG: what were we even talking about before all this literary device nonsense.

TT: I believe you were talking about the conversation you shared with Karkat.

TG: oh yeah TG: but yeah hes super long winded and his metaphors are actual works of art TG: he was actually the guy who wrote the top quality hate mail i received

TT: Really?

TG: yeah really isnt that fucking fantastic TG: you wouldnt have expected it if you were just talking to him in real life TG: but over messaging holy shit TG: absolutely glorious TG: he should really do something with that talent TG: write a fucking novel or some shit

TT: I would never have expected Karkat to be so…

TG: angry TG: long winded TG: creative with his words

TT: Yes. TT: He always seems so nice and professional. TT: Then again, I’ve only ever seen him at work, so I suppose I don’t exactly have the most accurate idea of what his personality is actually like.

TG: you also just spend your time flirting with kanaya

TT: The flirting is consensual.

TG: what are you two dating now

TT: Yes, actually.

TG: holy shit TG: did you go on a date TG: is that why you couldnt respond to my message TG: i need a brief overview of what happened stat

TT: Nothing much, really. TT: All we did was go out to lunch and walk around the park for a little while. TT: It was nice.

TG: that sounds like a fantastic date TG: very casual like a first date should be

TT: Agreed.

TG: anyway how are you doing TG: done anything interesting lately TG: something other than writing your book TG: which one are you on anyway TG: like the fifth or something or other TG: you just have a large fucking amount of books that you have written TG: and you go into these modes where you dont talk to anyone unless its the cashier at the grocery store

TT: I require food to survive, Dave. TT: But, yes, I have done something interesting lately. TT: Instead of writing a book, I opted for reading something.

TG: what really TG: what are you reading TG: actually i dont think i want to know TG: knowing you its probably something weird with a shit ton of monsters and stuff TG: not really something im interested in

TT: It's actually a novel that Kanaya recommended to me. TT: It's very interesting.

TG: well i guess if its not about monsters eating each other or a huge ass monster talking above a whisper that murders everyone its fine TG: lay it on me

TT: It's actually a series of books. TT: I'm only on the first one so far, but it holds a certain amount of charm to it.

TG: well youre going to have to do more than just tell me that the book has a certain kind of charm TG: you might want to actually tell me about the book

TT: Well, it's about a young girl who is being sent to finishing school by her family in order to become a lady. TT: However, the finishing school she is being sent to is not a normal finishing school. TT: It teaches a finishing of a different kind. TT: That is to say, it teaches young ladies to assassinate people as well as gather information.

TG: holy shit TG: that was not the direction i was expecting that to go

TT: I would recommend the book series to you. TT: You often like stories with a steampunk theme to them, and Kanaya stated that Etiquette and Espionage is a must read book for all those who love the steampunk genre.

TG: i do have to say TG: i am a little bit interested in reading the book TG: i might just go to the bookstore and buy it

TT: I knew you would be curious about it.

TG: yeah well im interested because you said there was a steampunk theme to it TG: but why were you interested in it TG: you typically go for the lovecraftian horror stories TG: god those are so fucking creepy TG: i have no earthly clue why you enjoy reading them so much TG: i personally cant stand reading those TG: ignore my tangent and answer my question instead

TT: I don't know, Dave. TT: Your tangents are awfully fun to analyze.

TG: goddamn it rose TG: youre an author not a fucking therapist TG: regardless of what your chumhandle says TG: anyway i know kanaya recommended it to you but what actually made you interested in the book

TT: I have always had a certain interest in fashion and such, particularly Victorian fashion. TT: I also enjoy the humor in the novel. TT: It is very deadpan, and it is enjoyable to read that someone wants to murder their first husband in a casual tone. TT: Don't worry though, Dave. TT: The only murder that occurs is in the last book, and the deaths are of minor characters. TT: Kanaya assured me this was such. TT: However, she did mention that there were some graphic descriptions of violence, particularly in the ending part of the last book. TT: If you don't feel comfortable with that, you don't have to read the novels.

TG: nah TG: i think i should be more or less ok TG: if i feel like i cant handle reading some part of it i can always go to you or kanaya to find out what actually happened in that part TG: but of course you read it because of people possibly murdering their future husbands TG: do you know why kanaya really liked the series

TT: Apparently, she has an interest in vampires and rainbow drinkers. TT: So there is a supernatural aspect to the book.

TG: so are there werewolves and shit as well

TT: Yes, there are.

TG: sweet TG: i probably need to get out of the house anyway TG: it will give me an excuse to stretch my legs and such

TT: Do you really require an excuse to do that?

TG: yes

TT: Well, don’t let me stop you.

TG: alright TG: ill be taking my leave

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacletherapist [TT] --

Now, before you leave to go to the bookstore, you needed to do one more thing.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

TG: john TG: john TG: i have a very important question for you

EB: lay it on me.

TG: what literary device kingdom would you rule

EB: that’s a really weird question, dave. EB: i think you might have to elaborate a little.

TG: so rose and i were talking TG: and we decided that I was the king of metaphors TG: we later decided that she was the queen of prose TG: which of course begged the question TG: what the fuck would you be

EB: i don’t think i want to rule an imaginary literary device kingdom! EB: it seems like a lot of responsibility.

TG: of course its a lot of goddamned responsibility TG: youre ruling a kingdom here TG: a hypothetical kingdom sure TG: but a kingdom nonetheless TG: youve got to take care of all the little people residing in your kingdom TG: but youre basically supposed to chose the literary device that you utilize the most often

EB: i can’t recall using many literary devices! EB: i think i would probably end up being the subject of one of the kingdoms.

TG: thats fair

EB: what about jade? EB: have you asked her?

TG: no but she probably rules over personification or something like that TG: you were more of a mystery

EB: i guess i’m just going to have to think about it.

TG: ill just be waiting over here for you answer TG: because this lack of information is clearly what is keeping me up at night TG: well i wont be actually waiting TG: that would just be creepy as fuck TG: ill just occasionally check pesterchum to see if you have come up with an answer yet TG: be sure to pester me when you do alright

EB: i’ll be sure to do that, dave.

TG: thanks bro TG: anyway im going to the bookstore to get a book rose recommended TG: for once it was not about horrorterrers TG: see ya later john

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

Your curiosity had yet to be sated. You were still curious as to what literary device kingdom John would rule. This was of course purely hypothetical, but it was still something very important that you needed to know as soon as possible.

Anyway, you decided that now would be a good time as any to make your way to the bookstore. Since it was literally right down the street, you didn't actually bother going into your car and driving there. That would be pointless and stupid because then you would have to find a parking space and pay for parking and that was entirely too much work to go get a book from a bookstore that was so close to your house.

When you got to the bookstore, you started out be looking around to see if you could find the book anywhere. It occurs to you that Rose never actually told you who the author was. She only told you the name of the book, which was fine, but it would have been very helpful to actually obtain the name of the person who wrote it as well.

You also didn't know all that much about the book save for a few basic things.And like hell are you actually going to ask someone for assistance to find the book. However, Rose did give you the title of the book, which is occasionally good enough.

As you wandered through the store, you ended up being surprised at a familiar face.

Oh god. It was Karkat. And yeah, the two of you talked pretty casually over Pesterchum and Trollian respectively, but you don't really think you could handle an actual interaction with him in person again. It was too soon, and you hadn't exactly had the time to recover from the previous in person interaction you had with him.

Oh no. He just saw you.

"Oh. Dave." Karkat greeted. "This is certainly a surprise."

"Oh, yeah, hi. I mean, hello. Yo? Actually, nevermind. I guess I really did mean hi. So, hi there Karkat. How have you been doing? The store treating you well? Asshole customers not keeping you up at night are they? And, wow, you are still cute. And I'm still rambling on like I'm not able to breathe if I don't talk. Not that I can't breathe if I don't talk, but with the amount of shit coming out of my mouth, I really wouldn't be surprised at this point.Sorry, I'm not very good at talking to people in real life."

"You're not very good at talking to them over text. Whatever delusion you created to make yourself think that you are anything less than a huge fucking dork is completely and utterly false, and at this point in time, you really just should accept that you aren't that good at the social aspect of life." Karkat said.

"Karkat, I'm hurt. You of all people should know how cool of a person I am."

Karkat looked around bewildered for a moment.

"A cool person? I don't see anyone like that. All I see is some dork who wears shades indoors to look cool."

"Harsh, but I do actually wear the shades inside for a legitimate reason. My eyes are super sensitive to light, so if I ever took them off, I'm pretty sure I would go blind."

"They seem like that would be extraordinarily uncomfortable to wear while sleeping. I hope to whatever god you believe in that you don't go blind if you remove them in total darkness."

"Yeah, it's fine if I take them off when there is a low amount of light, but I don't like taking them off that often. Not only do they look super cool and protect me from the evil sunlight, they were a gift from my best bro."

"So, sunlight is evil now?" Karkat asked.

"What? No. Sunlight isn't evil now. It has always been evil. It's just been watching over us like the fucking malevolent god it is."

"I don't think the sun can be considered a god. First of all, there are stars that are way bigger than our sun and a whole lot hotter as well. Second of all, the sun is probably going to die in a couple billion years, so we have that to look forward to."

"I can't wait until the evil that the sun is gets defeated."

"Well, it's not going to be in our short ass lifetimes. I can assure you of that."

"Damn it. And here I was, looking forward to the destruction of the sun."

"Well, I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you. Unless someone makes a video or a video game where the sun blows up. I don't know." Karkat furrowed his brows. "Maybe then you can live out the fantasy of the sun blowing up? I mean, it would be better than nothing, right?"

"Fair enough. Anyway, what are you getting here at the bookstore?" You questioned.

"Well, I was trying to find a new book to read, but I can't really find anything that I haven't read yet that is in the genre I enjoy."

"You're looking for a romance book, right? Terezi said you liked romcoms and cheesy stuff like that, which is honestly kind of adorable, and please just forget I said that last part. It didn't exist. It was never said. Anyway, you clearly must read a lot to not be able to find something that you haven't read."

"I don't know what I should respond to in that sentence. It all sounded like a huge pile of feces that just won't stop coming out. Except the pile of feces is coming out of your mouth instead of your asshole."

"Maybe you should answer the part where I commented on the amount of reading you do because that is super impressive, and it isn't a creepy compliment like suddenly telling you that you are cute is." You explained.

"Ignoring the fact that you called me cute on multiple occasions, I thank you for your acknowledgment of my prowess in reading a various amount of novels."

"You're welcome. Anyway, if you are having trouble finding something to read, you could always try out a different genre, I guess. I mean, I'm pretty sure there are plenty of action books and stuff that you haven't had the pleasure of reading yet."

"I do still prefer romance novels." Karkat said. "What kind of books do you like to read? Or, I guess, more specifically, what book are you planning on getting here? Or are you just browsing?"

"Rose recommended a book series to me, but I am having a bit of trouble finding it. The first book is called Etiquette and Espionage. Have you heard of it?"

Karkat scoffed.

"Of course I've heard of it! I hear about every book with rainbow drinkers that my moirail can get her hands on! However, it was an amazing series with a properly done romance."

"There's romance in it?"

Karkat looked at you in silence for a few moments before taking a deep breath.

"Yes and a very well done romance at that. Scratch that. There are multiple romances throughout the books. Of course, you have the obligatory red romance triangle that the protagonist ends up getting herself in, but it was obvious from the beginning who she would end up with, speaking as one of her redrom interests she was, at the most, black for, even if there was a bit of red/black vacillating. However, the romantic interests are intriguing due to the sheer difference in blood color. You see, the main character is an olive blood and the two who are trying to court her are a rust blood and a seadweller respectively. Which, of course, puts her in the position of trying to choose between one far above and far below her station in society. She was already testing that, being an olive blood going to a highblood school. In addition, her redrom interests are black as hell for each other, often fighting, and it's done so subtly, and that particular romance was very interesting to read about, even if it was kind of a minor romance in the book. In addition to the redrom interests, she actually gets a moirail, and that romance is adorable as hell, and it is honestly so sweet. She also gets a blackrom interest that she never actually acts on due to that interest being someone she considers an actual enemy."

Karkat looked at you in astonishment for a moment.

"Wow. That was probably one of the first times someone has let me go on for that long about romance without telling me to shut the fuck up."

"Why the hell would I tell you to shut up?" You ask. "You're clearly passionate about it, so I see no reason to shoot down that enthusiasm."

"I, uh. Wow." Karkat just kind of stared at you, and you were beginning to start feeling pretty awkward.

So, of course, you did the only thing you could really actually do.

"Yeah, it would be really shitty of me to just fucking tell you to shut up about something you clearly enjoy talking about. Anyway, it is always super nice just to hear people talk about something they love, and it's just kind of sad when people are sorry for enjoying those sorts of things when really it shouldn't be embarrassing at all. If it's something you love, you should embrace it. It's kind of dumb that people just shoot you down like that, bro. Especially since it was really nice to see you light up like that, and oh my god, please just shut me up."

Karkat started laughing. This was the second time you had gone on a long-winded spiel that he laughed at. It was honestly pretty adorable.

"I guess you're right. Hey, you're having trouble finding Etiquette and Espionage, right? Maybe I could help you find it." Karkat suggested.

"That would be fucking fantastic. Please, show me the way to the elusive novel."

"Right this way."

You followed Karkat to an area you must have looked through ten thousand times, and he just pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to you.

"There you go."

"Holy shit. The cover is pink. Pink is such a nice color, you know? It's all happy and nice and shit, and I really should consider getting some pink into my wardrobe now that I think about it. What do you think, Karkat? Would pink fit my complexion well enough?"

"Probably. You wear red well enough, so you should be able to pull off pink really well."

"Really? Well, maybe you could go out with me to help me pick something out. Usually, I would go with my sister, but she's not very good at picking things out that I actually like, and she doesn't typically like the things that I pick out. Also, it's kind of difficult to shop for yourself, you know? Who knows? Maybe I could help you pick out something new as well. It's always nice to find things that you wouldn't usually pick out for yourself, but then you find out you really enjoy it, you know?"

"That's an odd request, but I don't really see why not."

"So you don't mind helping me out with finding a fun outfit?"

"Not at all. It would probably be fun, especially if we are helping out one another."

"Great. You can bring a friend if you want. You know, if you're uncomfortable with hanging out with me for alone for an extended period of time. It's perfectly fine." You said.

"I think I'll actually take you up on that offer. I have a friend who has been pestering me about getting a new outfit for a potential date he's going to have, and it would be fantastic if I had some extra help.He's a complete mess, and I don't know if he can tell his shoes from his cape."

"Clearly he's a fashion disaster, and we're going to have to fix it. However, I'm warning you now, I am also a fashion disaster."

Karkat looked you up and down, and your throat felt dry.

"I think I can deal with you. You're not nearly as much of a fashion disaster as you may think you are."

"Thanks for the confidence booster. Anyway, when and where do you want to meet for the shopping spree? Unless you want to go over the details over Pesterchum."

"We're already here and planning it. Might as well do it now. I'm free this Saturday. So, maybe we could meet up at noon at some restaurant for lunch and then go to the mall to shop for clothes."

"That sounds fucking fantastic. What restaurant though?"

"I could probably find some place nearby the mall to go to that isn't complete fucking shit. I'll have to ask my friend to see if he's good with that time. He probably will be though. He is almost always free. But, on the off chance that he is not, I can always message you over Trollian, but I’ll have to do that anyway to tell you the exact location and time to meet up.”

"It sounds like a plan." You stated. "Anyway, I'm going to pay for this book, and I'm hopefully going to read it at some point in time instead of just allowing it to rest upon my shelf for the rest of eternity. Mark my works. It will be read."

"Good luck with that." Karkat laughed. "But seriously, I do hope you manage to finish it. It will give us something to talk about on the outing."

"I thought we were going to talk about what kind of clothes we want to try out."

"That's actually a pretty good idea. Just let me jot that down." Karkat pretended to write something down on an imaginary notepad. "There we go. If you have any other ideas, be sure to submit them to my website so that I can fully analyze the shit out of them."

"Will do." You suddenly remembered something very important. "Also, I just remembered I need to ask you what literary device kingdom you would rule."

Karkat looked at you like you had just eaten a lemon whole, rind and all.

"What the fuck kind of question is that?"

"An important one. Come on, please answer it. I don't actually have all day, like some may believe."

"Dave, we just spend a good half hour to an hour standing here and talking to each other."

"Shit, really? Never would have guessed that much time had passed. I still would like an answer though."

"I'll think about it. I'll even message you so you can sate your burning curiosity as soon as I figure it out."

"I'll hold you to that." You said, and you finger-gunned at him. "Anyway, I should be off and actually buying this book and possibly reading it at some point in the hopefully near future."

"You do that." Karkat said.

You left kind of awkwardly. And by that, you meant you totally left in the coolest way possible. Yes. Definitely. Didn't even trip or anything. Okay. So maybe you stumbled a bit, but it's whatever, right? You were still kind of cool, and your dignity was definitely left intact.

You go up to the counter and buy your book and then make your way home. You check Pesterchum to see if John has given you an answer yet. None. Absolutely none. What blasphemy. Well, you can always pester someone else about it.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

TG: jade i have a very important question for you to answer TG: it is imperative that you answer this message as soon as possible TG: shits super important TG: like the world will be destroyed by a whole bunch of meteors if you dont answer this question TG: it will be fucking catastrophic for everyone involved TG: and everyone involved will just be everyone in the world TG: possibly the universe too who really knows

GG: dave

TG: what

GG: just ask me the question already!!!!

TG: oh yeah right TG: okay ill lay it on you TG: if you were the ruler of a theoretical literary device kingdom, what literary device would you be the ruler of

GG: that question is super weird :/ GG: but i guess i would rule personification??? GG: i havent really thought about it really GG: its kind of super oddly specific too

TG: maybe a little bit TG: but i knew you would rule over personification TG: john is still trying to decide what literary device kingdom he would rule over

GG: oh! GG: maybe he could rule over the hero kingdom!!

TG: is hero a literary device

GG: i think it might be more of a character arc than a literary device but this sight seems to count it as one

TG: ok i guess thats fair

GG: im going to keep looking through these literary devices GG: some of them are kind of funny!! GG: like this one called non sequitur

TG: what the fuck is that

GG: according to the site its a statement that doesnt really make any sense or have any sound logic GG: like saying that if all humans have bones and crocodiles have bones GG: then crocodiles must be humans

TG: what the fuck is that logic

GG: its called non sequitur for a reason!

TG: sounds like something you would find straight off of tumblr TG: hot off the press and ready to consume

GG: that metaphor didnt really make any sort of sense dave

TG: when do my metaphors ever make sense jade

GG: … GG: :/

TG: exactly

GG: i found a literary device that might fit john!

TG: what is it

GG: its called a parrhesia GG: which is basically a fancy way of saying freedom of speech GG: like saying what you mean and stuff like that

TG: sounds perfect TG: i will be sure to inform john of this development TG: pester me if you need anything alright

GG: ok! GG: :)

TG: … TG: 8)

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

TG: okay so i found out what kingdom you would rule over

-- ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum! --

TG: alright so you arent here TG: whatever TG: ill tell you anyway TG: you would rule over the parthinian kingdom TG: that was not the correct kingdom TG: that was just a jumble of words that didn’t even make any sort of sense TG: they just happened to start with a p TG: okay just give me a second to double check what it was called TG: parrhesia TG: that still sounds like a jumble of words but i swear its an actual real word TG: it means like freedom of speech or whatever TG: boldness of speech TG: i just realized that all you guys have a literary device that begins with a p TG: prose personification parrhesia TG: and im just sitting over here on my throne of metaphors TG: … TG: super fucking weird TG: anyway TG: see ya

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

You weren’t really sure whether or not to tell someone about seeing Karkat at the bookstore. You were kind of tired, and you were all peopled out for the day, so you just decided to go to sleep instead.

You can’t wait for Saturday.

#davekat #homestuck #dave strider #karkat vantas #john egbert #rose lalonde #jade harley

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