#i hope i get to use that library scene for another thing ahhh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nctsworld · 1 year ago

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oh my god sasha!!! firstly, before i get into the story, your kind words in the beginning for me... i love you T_T thank you for being my friend and always being there for me too!!!

okay now let's get into this beautiful love story!!!

i love how you painted this era so well!! i can envision the setting even though i don't normally watch historical korean dramas. i can really tell you did your research and know your stuff!!! also, i thought it was so cute that you added a works cited at the end hehe

the meet-cute!!! mark being clumsy!!! and then you tied it in and mirrored it so well to the ending it's so him ahhh

honestly the moral dilemma and issue for reader was so well-done because when the plot point came back to bite reader in the butt i was like wait what??? she technically stole the items??? but her mom's sick?? nooooOOO!!! it worked so well as an angst point

the part with jaemin omg so funny that he was right behind reader and mark and then jaemin telling him to be happy AND THEN

Mark isn’t sure, but he thinks his long-time friend sounds resigned beneath it all. Despite Jaemin’s smile, he could tell that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You see, Na Jaemin had many things: a seal that dictated the law of the land, fine teas from the east, sweet tangerines from Jeju island, the smoothest of silk robes, and more. But the privilege to love? Not something he could place a stamp on, taste, or touch. He wants to ask you, the miracle court nurse, is there not a draught that makes the heart a little lighter? A concoction to soothe the soul?

i am GOING THROUGH IT!!! so beautifully written with a glimpse of how jaemin feels. i know you probably won't, but a little part of me wishes there was a sequel for him to find love because !!!! prince jaemin deserves it !!!!

on another note, you interweaved the other members so well!!! all their roles, all the references, everything!!! so perfect ahh

oooh also all your similes and metaphors aided the beauty of your writing - one of the ones that stood out to me was how "you watch as Mark speeds away like an arrow, silent and unswerving."

the market scene omg the humour was so cute!!! the egg reference!! the eel extract joke omg 10/10 amazing love it the best

“I think you’d be amazing.” Mark’s voice brings you back. “I’m not amazing now?” “That you are too.” He transforms your joke into sincerity, just like that. It’s his turn to pause this time, and you move to face him. His breath warms your cheek with how close you are, and his eyes are brimming with something that you can’t name. “I… I’ve come to care for you,” he confesses. He takes your hand in his. It’s love. It’s adoration. It’s a little fear for what may come. It’s hope. It’s desire. You lace your fingers together and Mark feels that his heart may burst. “I care for you too, Mark.” The full moon rises, but both of you are too busy to notice tonight.

AHH!! AHHHHH!!! i am SEATED i am HERE for this love!!!

mark taking you up to his spot in the library. mark helping you up there. mark wanting to bed you...!!!

Mark could write verses, he could write volumes, he could write songs about you.

help i've fallen!!!! it was fantastic!! amazing!!! ugh so perfect i loved it so much

as aforementioned, the angst complication was well-woven into your story. i also liked how it wasn't dragged out too long.

But what hurts most, perhaps, is the blank expression and emptiness in his eyes the one time you finally do catch sight of each other across a hallway. It’s brief, like two strangers passing. And as you haul bolts of silk upon your shoulder, you will yourself to think that it’s the burden of the weight and the sharp-pointed embroidery needles. Actually, you are quite certain what hurts most.

and then us not knowing if mark made it out....

it hurts... but i'm holding on...

...but for Mark, he knows it’s all your heart. He regrets ever doubting your intentions. He thought he was serving the kingdom, but all along, you… you were truly serving its people.

looove this line!!

and again, the ending is perfect!! i also coincidentally finished this story while listening to 127's promise you and i think that kinda fits it tbh like !!!!

i'm so proud of you for releasing this, sasha!! it's so beautifully written and i'm so grateful to be a part of your life with fangirling and the like <3

Nightwatch (Mark)

♡ genre: ginger tea - sageuk/historical; a little bit of everything--romantic fluff, soft smut, light angst

✎ words: 7.5k

✓ summary/notes: Mark Lee, loyal guard to the crown prince, unexpectedly meets court nurse!reader in a palace where everyone has dreams a little bigger than their roles seem to allow. Featuring small appearances by other NCT members: prince Jaemin, illustrator Renjun, royal physician Doyoung, and more. Inspired in part by Neo Zone’s “Kick It” concept.... (a few extended thoughts here) Enjoy!!

P.S. I realize that the name “Mark” is out of place for a historical Korean setting… Please imagine that there’s some sort of inside joke or creative story where Lee Minhyung’s nickname became Mark :P @nctsworld tagging you, cee! thank you for the endless fun chatter and fangirling every day, and for the real encouragement too, through the years.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･��☾　One: Medicine at Midnight　☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

When you sneak into the herbal pantry room at half past midnight, the last thing you expect is someone else already there, rummaging through the musty drawers. A lone candle casts strange shadows dancing between the herb sachets hanging from the ceiling.

Holding your breath, you map out the fastest path back to where you slept. You had waited until your fellow court nurses were sound asleep, tiptoed past Doyoung’s quarters and his light snoring, and followed slivers of moonlight on the familiar floorboards.

You turn to make your escape, but it’s too late. The person in the room spins around and blows out the candle lighting the room. He pins you against the wall and sends the surrounding room into dizzying darkness.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is low and commanding, and his body is held like a string strung taut, ready to meet its target. As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you find that he’s wearing all black. Gold threads swirl into the figure of a dragon, glimmering softly across his chest. He must be a royal guard. You’d never spoken to one before. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” He repeats himself and tightens his hold around your wrist.

You whisper your name, keeping your head bowed. “I- I work here, sir. Nurse under royal physician Kim Doyoung.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. Lee Mark. Eastern Palace.” You look up to meet shining eyes and a face softer than the voice it held. For a moment, you’re mesmerized. In his eyes, stars twinkle with a youthful wonder that you didn’t expect to discover there. You realize your position and cast your gaze downwards again.

Mark takes in your lashes, the quiver in your lip, the loose white cotton wrapped around your shoulders. He draws a quick breath. You must be the one. The court nurse Prince Jaemin keeps talking about. The one who brews seemingly magical healing drafts and whose laugh is like a breeze on a hot summer’s day. Noticing your proximity and your lack of proper attire, he backs away and the warmth of his hands leaves you.

You’re grateful the palace guard doesn’t question further about why you are here for medicine in the middle of the night. But to direct attention elsewhere… “And may I ask what brings you at this hour, naeuri?”

He smiles sheepishly before pushing back his right sleeve, revealing several cuts and a scabbing elbow. “It hurts just a bit.” His voice is sweeter now, almost innocent. “Doyoung said I could let myself in and put something on to help with this. As long as I tell him what exactly I took. I didn’t know we’d finish training so late after hours.”

It looks like it hurts more than a bit. You wonder if they are battle scars, but you save the questions. You find a small bowl of water, the correct ingredients for a salve, and fresh linen to clean and dress the wounds. Mark expects to wince when you press down on his arm but instead, a feeling of cool spreads through his elbow.

Maybe it’s the quiet of the night and tight space that makes Mark feel like he can let down his guard and trust you with anything. “Actually, I got like this tripping on my own feet this morning. Nothing heroic. But don’t tell anyone. I’ll never hear the end of it if Donghyuck finds out.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell.” You laugh softly, and it does seem like a breeze on a warm day, Mark can’t help but think to himself. It reminds him of the lightness of his younger years, before palace life, duties, and always being on watch.

You almost share your secret too, with the way he smiles and asks about the cooling ointment, intrigued by how you made it. But after he leaves, you creep back to the medicine drawers. You take a fistful of what you were looking for and hide it in a pocket you’d sewn inside your skirts.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･༓☾　Two: Night Watch Walks　☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

You try to drop a silver coin into Renjun’s palm, but he pushes your hand away.

“Please, no need! I promise I’ll get it to your mother.”

“It’s the home closest to the lake. My father’s usually fishing before dawn, but by midday he’ll stop by with lunch.” You keep rambling, and Renjun tsks impatiently but good-naturedly.

“I know how important this is to you.”

It’s not the first time Renjun is doing a delivery for you. He has also transcribed, illustrated, and read letters for you. He did this all under the guise of selling parchment pouches and bags needed for drying herbs, of course. He slips away with the setting sun.

Most of the nurses had wrapped up for the evening and withdrawn to their quarters early, glad for the extra rest. But your mind is a storm cloud. You’d seen firsthand how the queen barely recovered in time from her ailments last spring. You hope your father described your mother’s condition with accuracy and that the combination of herbs is correct. It was always dark when you picked them out of Doyoung’s drawers, relying on your muscle memory for where everything was stored. One ingredient is very rare and expensive, and you pray Renjun doesn’t get delayed, or worse, found out.

“Are you following me?” A voice shakes you, and you’re surprised to see Mark a few steps away across the courtyard. You had wandered with no destination and found yourself with the guard you met last week.

“No… Just taking a walk because I couldn’t sleep.” He nods in response. His eyes scan the surroundings and he keeps walking, but you feel him slow his gait for you.

“Well, I’m on night watch duty.”

“Then I’m on night watch duty too,” you reply.

“Oh, you are?”

“Yes, making sure you don’t trip over your own feet again.”

Mark stops and laughs. “It was a one time thing!”

“How’s the elbow?”

It has healed up nicely and the rest of your path around the Eastern Palace is spent getting to know Mark. You stay one step behind him, landing your foot where his shadow would’ve been in the day. There’s something comfortable about being together, and you almost forget about your worries. Mark’s voice is like gentle rain, a pitter-patter, interspersed with an occasional giggle, and you could listen to it forever.

Mark doesn’t trip once following the familiar route around the palace grounds. But he notices the beating of his heart, faster than usual for the pace he was walking.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You find yourself walking with Mark the next night, and the one after the next. It’s like your feet are naturally pointed towards him. You learn that Mark enjoys writing and poetry. He sometimes gets lost in his thoughts. His nose gets scrunched up in an endearing way when he’s too focused on something. He is skilled with his hands, especially with shooting arrows, but a bit clumsy with everything else. You are impressed that Mark is part of multiple units in the palace, and you admire how upright and hardworking he is. He makes you want to strive to be a better person yourself. You understand why he was selected as one of the crown prince’s closest guards.

“If you enjoy language and writing, maybe you can become an author and publish some poems?”

Mark shakes his head. “I have one job for life. Protect the prince, the palace, the city.”

“But what if you could?”

Mark wants to tell you he has started writing more in the past few weeks. Late at night, when he can’t stop thinking about you. Instead, what he says is, “But you know I can’t.”

“Alright then…” You would come back to this but you change the subject for now. “I was wondering, is Prince Na as handsome as the court ladies say he is?” Mark’s eyes become comically round at your question.

“I hope you were about to say he’s even more handsome than they say he is?”

It’s dark out, but the sweeping royal blue of the crown prince’s clothing is hard to miss. You freeze and hold a deep bow, but Jaemin waves it away, as if dismissing the formalities. His smile is swoonworthy, if you’ve ever seen one that fits that description. The corners of his eyes crinkle in mischief.

“I need a word with you,” the prince nods towards Mark, and you bow three more times, backing away.

Mark waits until you are out of earshot, the anxieties surfacing unbidden. Did Jaemin have his eyes set on you? Mark pictures you with lavish gifts that only a crown prince could afford. Or better yet, the prince could grant you status and freedom, he could support a large, happy, growing family—

“What is she like?” Jaemin’s question breaks his thoughts. And then all the things that Mark loves about you come rushing to his mind.

“Yes, well, she is very bright. And genuine. Kind of daring. Creative. So funny sometimes, even when she doesn’t mean to be. Carefree, beautiful… very beautiful.” Mark gushes almost reverently before realizing he may have misspoke. Prince Jaemin liked to keep it casual, but Mark wanted to show his due respect. “Um, she is a loyal servant to the kingdom,” he tacks on lamely at the end, trying to sound more professional.

“Be happy.” Jaemin’s words are loaded with meaning, and he grins at Mark’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “It’s a royal command.”

Mark isn’t sure, but he thinks his long-time friend sounds resigned beneath it all. Despite Jaemin’s smile, he could tell that it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You see, Na Jaemin had many things: a seal that dictated the law of the land, fine teas from the east, sweet tangerines from Jeju island, the smoothest of silk robes, and more. But the privilege to love? Not something he could place a stamp on, taste, or touch.

He wants to ask you, the miracle court nurse, is there not a draught that makes the heart a little lighter? A concoction to soothe the soul? But for now, it satisfies him to make the romance of those around him blossom. He smiles at Mark’s giddy expression, the image of one of the sharpest palace guards now bashful, shy, and in love.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･༓☾　Three: Holiday　☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

You’re shaking while staring at the letter in your hands. You can’t read your father’s script, but Renjun assures you the message says your mother is now feeling much better. They followed your exact directions and her fever broke the next day. Renjun smiles as you tuck the paper away. He had always loved painting. As a child, he found scraps of parchment and spent hours recreating the world with strokes of ink. But his family’s paper-making business needed his support, and he put his passion aside as a hobby. Being able to illustrate your instructions and messages feels like a dream come true he never knew he could achieve. He has a chance to paint the fine lines of sesame leaves, the mixed white and yellow blossoms of crown daisies, and the rough texture of milkwort root. You thank Renjun profusely, telling him he’s a lifesaver with his artwork, and you exchange the next secret package and note. A neighbor’s baby has been colicky and you recommend a tummy-friendly catmint and fennel tea.

You know it is wrong to take from the royal physician’s storage, but these things aren’t being used. You can’t help the elation bubbling up in your chest knowing that people were feeling better because of what you were trying.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” You look up at the familiar voice. You want to gush all about it. It’s not that you don’t want to share with him. But Mark is so good, so honest. He waits until you finish your duties to invite you on night time walks now. With him, it’s always responsibilities first. You make sure the fire’s out, the lid covering the stone pot completely, before following him towards the Eastern Palace pond.

“Well, it’s my holiday tomorrow! I’m visiting my home, the fishing village by Resonance Lake!” While not the exact reason, this is true, and it is cause for your joy. It’s one of your few days off for the year, granted in exchange for your service to the kingdom.

“Ah, I see.” You notice that wistfulness tinges his voice. “Taeil said that there’s supposed to be a full moon tomorrow night. I was hoping to see it with you. But of course, you can see it from where you’ll be too!”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the comment. You want to tell him that seeing the full moon together sounds lovely, and you’ll be sure to return to the palace before the Western Gate closes for the night. But he’s being called away by another guard, ending your walk abruptly. He gives you a small nod and then you watch as Mark speeds away like an arrow, silent and unswerving.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Home is running into open arms, tearing up when your father tells you you’re his pride, and holding your mother’s weak hand. Her health has improved dramatically, but she still needs rest, so she sends you out to the market to enjoy the sunshine on her behalf. Your father kept one of his best catches from the morning instead of selling it, and you promise to fetch the freshest vegetables to complement it for dinner.

While the town market does not carry the fine ingredients for a king’s many side dishes, it does have the goods that local commoners scrounge up to barter and trade. Seasonal wild greens, mushrooms and roots of all kinds, fresh and dried. Just thinking of the colors and scents has your mind drawing connections. Bean sprouts for soup, maybe some bellflower root to boost immunity...

Someone steps in front of you, and you almost knock into their chest. Instead of his black guard’s outfit, it’s a jewel-toned hanbok he’s dressed in and a commoner’s hat shielding his shining eyes from the sun. With high cheekbones ready to rise with his laughter, he looks so dashing you think you may be daydreaming.

“Mark!” He breaks into the hugest grin. “How are you here... Are you following me?”

“Nope. Just taking a walk because I couldn’t sleep.” He gives you the most dramatic wink, and you laugh because it’s midday and you’ve never seen him like this. “Actually, I took a holiday today too.” Prince Jaemin was more than happy to authorize it, as long as Mark helped him sneak out for a day of fun too. (He took off with another guard, Lee Jeno.)

Mark lets you pull him along through the merchant stalls and he claps along to the beat of traveling pansori performers, happy to shed his usual role and responsibilities. He becomes just a young man with the lovely one he wants to pursue.

The youthful wonder in his eyes is back, and when he sees the way your eyes light up too, his heart wants nothing more than to be the reason. He plays point-and-learn encyclopedia with you and all that you see.

“What are those funny things?”

“Ginger, silly. But I like to get them from another lady. And these are eggs, you know. The thing you have for breakfast sometimes.”

“I know what eggs look like! I can cook them!”

“Debatable.”

He pouts and points at some whole grains. “What about those?”

“These are good for your digestion.” You place a hand on your stomach as if to demonstrate. He points to the next row, curious about the bottles of dark liquid kept in the shade. “Ah, eel extract. That’s good for…” You gesture a bit lower and he gawks.

“What?!”

“At least that's what I heard. Want to try?” He shakes his head quickly and you think you hear him mutter, “Don’t need that…”

The ginger seller is chatting with another customer about unrest in the east, and Mark tilts his head in interest. His visit to town in regular garb is not without a mission after all. He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. His eyes have dimmed to something more serious, but with the softness of an apology. “Hey, can I find you after dinner?”

You nod, understanding his signals. “Okay, the lake. By the last house, around the corner of the village.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Mark is true to his word. You’ve only made yourself comfortable in the grass looking out to the lake for a few minutes when he joins you, plopping himself down.

You can tell he doesn’t want to talk about his work, so you don’t pry. Instead, you let him ask all the questions. You share memories of swimming in the lake when you were young, the first time you gathered berries from the forest outside of the palace and almost got lost, how you wish to sneak out to see the cosmos flowers next autumn. You conclude that it seems like your penchant for trying new things always gets you into trouble. Mark reassures you that they do make for marvelous stories though.

“Remember when we talked about how I’d be a writer if I had the chance to do anything? How about you?”

“Me?” You pause, eyes following the ringed patterns left by dragonflies touching the still water. “I’d become the best physician. Even better than Kim Doyoung.” It’s exhilarating to say it out loud.

“You want to take his place as head royal physician?”

“Oh. No, not in the palace.”

“Then where?”

“I don’t know.” You’d never allowed yourself to dream what you wanted any further. You turn back to gaze in the direction of the town, thoughts drifting towards the bustle of the market earlier in the day.

“I think you’d be amazing.” Mark’s voice brings you back.

“I’m not amazing now?”

“That you are too.” He transforms your joke into sincerity, just like that. It’s his turn to pause this time, and you move to face him. His breath warms your cheek with how close you are, and his eyes are brimming with something that you can’t name. “I… I’ve come to care for you,” he confesses. He takes your hand in his.

It’s love. It’s adoration. It’s a little fear for what may come. It’s hope. It’s desire.

You lace your fingers together and Mark feels that his heart may burst. “I care for you too, Mark.”

The full moon rises, but both of you are too busy to notice tonight.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･༓☾　Four: The Space Above the Library　☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

“Where are we going?” Mark’s tugging you off course from the path you usually walk.

“A secret!”

“What about your duties?”

“It’s Yeongho’s turn for the night watch. He’s the One Two Seven squad captain, and he says we need to rethink the security. Something about northeastern borders. This way.”

One moment you’re outside, at the back of the palace library, and the next Mark has leapt on top of the roof. He reaches down and lifts you with surprising ease. You hang on, letting out a squeak and hooking your arms around his neck as he holds you snug against his chest. He carries you further upwards and you close your eyes tight, trusting him. After a few more minutes of lurching and movement, you feel Mark settle down. Could you be on the rooftop? He places you in his lap, your back against his chest.

“Whoa, where’d you learn to scale buildings like that--?” The question dies on your lips as you open your eyes to look out to the view spanning before you. Mark tightens his arms around you.

From this vantage point above the library, your eyes follow the path of a crane as it takes flight from the palace pond. It glides upwards towards the western gate where the sun has already set with colors between lavender and forget-me-nots and into the forests. And further, the expanse of N City beyond the palace gates unfolds, lights glittering like fireflies. A river courses into a lake, the lake by your home that looks like a tear-shaped puddle from this distance. The stars are rising and Mark kisses your hair. The moment is perfect.

“Oh, I got something for you,” you tell him, trying to sound laid back. An excited anticipation bubbles up in your voice anyway. You turn in Mark’s hold so you’re facing him and straddling his lap, and you try not to notice how he has trouble shifting into a comfortable position. From Mark’s perspective, you’re very close and warm. He makes a poor attempt at composing himself and keeps one arm around your back, his free hand taking the little package you fish out of your pockets.

Renjun had said he could loan you one of his old ones from home, but you insisted he find you a new one and a nice one at that. It cost more of your allowance than it should, but Mark’s curious expression is worth more than every bright coin you owned.

He slowly unrolls the ink brush from its cloth wraps, jaw dropping in silence, admiring the smooth wooden handle and soft bristles. “For all the stories you will tell,” you breathe softly.

Mark’s mind is often filled with so many words, but right now he is rendered speechless. He carefully places the gift into a pocket of his own and draws you in to thank you with his lips.

The kiss starts sweet and strong like steaming honey citron tea, deepening when Mark tilts his head and brings his hands up to hold your face. When he tastes you with his tongue, it’s like the world around you fades to night and he is the only light you see. Mark shivers as you card your fingers through his hair. You lean in so you’re as close as possible, feeling aware of every part of you that’s touching, the heat blooming between you, his unmistakable excitement now pressing into you, and your hearts beating rapidly.

You tug on his collar, wanting to trail your kisses down the column of his neck and further, but Mark untangles himself from you and holds you at a distance. He swallows thickly. “I am a man of honor. Let me wed you first.”

“Mark, bed me…” You barely believe the words coming out of your own mouth, but you know you want him desperately. “Please.”

At your plea, his eyes grow wide, and then they narrow, swirling with desire. He makes a noise between a chuckle and a groan and moves to get to his feet. For a moment, a pang of rejection creeps into your chest, but Mark reaches for your hand to help you up too. He can’t believe how easy it is for him to give in to you, but he knows he wants you too, with his whole heart. “Come on then!” His smile is boyish and free, and you are quick to follow, treading carefully along the eaves and through a well-disguised door at the side of the roof. With you, Mark feels all the straight lines he has built up loosening into the loops and curls of ribbons. For you, he dares to step out for a new adventure.

Mark’s space above the library is plain. You spot a few scrolls and stacks of books, and you wonder whether his thoughts and writing fill the pages. You wonder what kinds of stories he has been reading lately. But those are questions for later. You fall first into the place where he sleeps and pull again at the fabric of his collar, until he’s almost lying on top of you. Mark is careful with his weight, holding himself up on his palms by your face, and he pauses to ask, “Do you trust me?”

“Completely.”

You try to pull Mark’s top off, but the sleeves get caught on his elbows, and you both giggle, momentarily breaking the heady rush you were in. Once he has peeled off the rest of his guard’s uniform, you stare unabashedly at how lean and toned he is beneath his clothing. With you, Mark realizes he doesn’t feel shy or embarrassed. He feels free to be goofy, to make mistakes, to be himself. He appreciates how you eagerly touch him. You trace a star-shaped scar on his chest and kiss the tiny moles on the side of his neck and near the corner of his lips.

There are too many knots and ribbons tied in a hanbok, Mark grumbles aloud. You shake with laughter because really, it’s more complicated to put on and pretty easy to remove. Slowly, he loosens the bow on your chest, admiring every part of you revealed, kissing your skin reverently, before pulling at the one around your waist and marveling more at the wonder of you.

It’s a bit drafty and cold when you’re unwrapped and bare under him, but Mark’s lips are soon emblazoned along your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. His fingers are hot as they dance across your skin, down your sides and dipping below, between your thighs and finding your desire for him evident. He reaches lower and trails a fingertip along your inner thigh. His touch is slow and light, drawing upwards toward your center. You realize he’s writing something on your skin when he whispers “love you” close to your ear, sealing the words into your heart. Mark’s finger trails upwards along your other thigh, tracing shapes and lines. And this time, he says “forever.”

Mark knows you’re eager and ready for more, so he lets you help guide his hand until he’s at the perfect spot. He begins to draw circles earnestly where you want him, watching you intently as you sigh in pleasure.

“Good?”

“Mm-hmm. Very.” You extend the “very” and your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. Mark’s so good as a person, as a friend, as a lover, that you’re almost overwhelmed by it all. He spells out his love for you, over and again.

When you reach for him after some time, longing to please him too, Mark simply moves his hands to hold yours in his own. He presses his body down closer to slide his length against you without entering you, and the both of you moan at the friction and new sensations. Heat courses through you, warm in your belly, right down to your toes, and back to your core again as he moves against you. Back and forth he rocks, your fingers clasping his more tightly, stars spinning above you, until you’re coming, coming undone beneath him, chanting his name. Mark slows down until you’ve caught your breath. He untangles his hands from yours to reach up and smooth the hair from your forehead.

“Will you have me?” You lift your hips in response to his question, digging your fingertips into his back, pulling him close.

“I’m yours.”

You let out a gasp as Mark presses the head of his cock into you. He’s careful and tender, kissing your breath away before moving to push in all the way. With effort, you open your eyes to look up into his. You hold each other and behold each other, connected from beginning to end. He drags along your warmth, languid and loving, and dives back in again.

Mark could write verses, he could write volumes, he could write songs about you.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･༓☾　Five: Embroidery Needles　☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

Kim Doyoung immediately reports the missing contents of his storage shelves. Rose hips, cinnamon bark, and licorice root. Not to mention, the garlic, gingko, ginger, even ginseng! The contents that had vanished far outweighed what the palace guards who occasionally dropped in without notice could take. At first he thought it may be just that, but completing his personal annual inspection revealed otherwise. In retrospect, you should have known that Doyoung would be the type to measure and catalog all of his work. Perhaps you were getting too carried away in your fantasies, distracted by the romance of your dreams.

Doyoung doesn’t mean to be an exacting person; he is just an exact person. But he wasn’t always this way. The voices in his memories remind him why.

“Must’ve wasted them, feeding it to those beasts he keeps!”

“That little thief. Always thought he looked different from everyone else.”

“Glad he and his family were exiled.”

Hot tears well up just remembering it, and Doyoung bites the inside of his cheek to keep the anger down. His best friend in his younger years. Lee Taeyong. Taeyong who cared so much for life, for animals, large and small. Taeyong who once placed a tiny green frog in Doyoung’s palm. It scared Doyoung half to death, but Taeyong kept going on about how cute it was. When the queen’s herbal remedies had gone missing, there were no records kept at the time. The scheming political officials were quick to separate themselves from the situation, shifting blame on the innocent. Taeyong, their scapegoat, was branded as a thief and banished to hard labor. Doyoung vowed to catch the actual culprits next time. He would take careful notes and calculated steps if he needed to. He rose in the ranks as head physician over the years, hoping he could one day gain the power or connections to exonerate his friend.

Word travels to the crown prince about trouble with one of the court nurses stealing from the physician’s storeroom. Naturally, word gets to one the crown prince’s closest guards too.

Mark wants to understand, but he can’t afford to. His role is to guard the prince, and his team needs his complete focus and commitment, especially now. He had shown you his everything. His favorite spot to watch the sun set, his corner above the library, his innermost thoughts, his whole being. The hurt and betrayal felt bitter like poison. He thinks back to your chance encounter which he so treasured in his memories, now tainted with the thought that you might have been in the act of stealing that very night. His brows furrow and he doesn’t notice how tightly his jaw is clenched. He’s torn between following the rules which condemn you as a thief and siding with his personal knowledge of what you are like. He wants to talk with you, but he can’t seem to find you in all the usual spots. And now he hardly has the time to look for you with his new schedule. The palace guards have ramped up on meetings, and he’s exhausted from splitting time between all the units he’s in. Jungwoo’s sword nearly nicks his neck when Mark realizes how far his thoughts had wandered. The more he aches, the further he pushes into his training, exerting the pent up emotion in combat practice.

Prince Na, having lost his sister to spies from a neighboring kingdom in childhood, had no room for deceitfulness. It was merciful enough that Doyoung would be the one to deal with you directly.

“Sir, I… I’m sorry I tried making something new and overcooked it and threw it out. I’m willing to make up for it. I also got some of the ingredients mixed up. I’ll wash up all the bowls for the next month. I’ll gather the roots too! I promise, I--”

“I don’t need your excuses. I thought better of you.”

You hate to admit it, but his words stung. Doyoung had been like a mentor to you.

Doyoung knew you never mixed up the ingredients though. He knew you could probably identify them without even seeing them. And your new concoctions often became the best remedies, never failures. As much as he was angry, he was not one to be cruel. After probing further and finding no other double-dealing plots or secret orders you were following, he lets out a long sigh and tells you his next orders.

You should have been grateful that you weren’t sentenced to something more serious, but you would rather lose your bi-annual rice stipend than this. Or reorganize all the drawers to the picky head physician’s standards. Instead, you are relegated to beginning embroidery. Embroidery! Not allowed near the food or medicine, and in a completely opposite wing of the palace. Doyoung warns you that all the guards are informed and will be watching you.

Oh but there is one palace guard who must not want to see you. Since the news broke, you haven't seen him anywhere. No night time walks, definitely no night time views, only emptiness in your chest and no place to run.

Would Mark misunderstand that you were only skin deep with him? You know that isn’t it, but you also know you broke his trust. You are a thief, no matter the intentions, but you feel a tangled mix of shame, anger, frustration, and a sense of powerlessness that you cannot unravel. You think it might be better for him not to be associated with you after all. You wonder if he regrets meeting you.

You have to ignore the many new inquiries that Renjun tries to deliver to you, telling him it’s no longer safe to make the exchanges. Worry creases his brows when even his beautiful new drawing of the cosmos field you want to visit one day brings no change in emotion to your face.

You do your best to pore into your daily tasks, but it’s monotonous work, embroidery, with nothing more exciting than occasionally pricking yourself with a needle. You curse under your breath.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･༓☾　Six: Fire　☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

It’s that nightmare again. You’re falling from the library’s rooftop and into a bottomless lake. Mark’s sparkling eyes turn wounded, guarded, cold. What happens next is plunging into utter darkness and a numbing freeze taking over your limp body. But this time, the dream takes a turn. The waters around you swirl, sweltering hot, and start closing in. Instead of a deafening silence, voices are screaming. You try to decipher what they are saying, kicking to tread water and struggling to stay afloat.

“To the West Gate! To the West Gate!”

You jolt awake. The commotion of your dreams collides with reality. You piece together the hazy outline of Doyoung’s figure past the doorway amidst smoke and chaos. He’s shouting instructions, pushing people in one direction. The palace is under attack.

Crawling on your knees and holding a sleeve over your nose and mouth, you make it to the courtyard. White-gray ash and embers flicker through the air and you fight to breathe. You can’t see anything for a moment, but the wind picks up, carrying the thick smoke away. You turn to take in your surroundings and you stop in your tracks at what you find. In the exact opposite direction to the throngs of courtesans fleeing, an orange glow is consuming the Eastern Palace and the library right next to it, dark plumes of smoke billowing out.

The words of love, of history, tales of wonder, poetry and promises. Burning.

There’s nothing you can do but to cry out, “Mark!” Your lungs burn, and you struggle to stand to your feet and shove against the bodies of those trying to escape. “Mark!”

The singing of arrows across the air brings your focus sharply back to your feet on the ground and you find that you are being pushed along with the crowds, dragged towards the West Gate. And then you are running, into the forest, aimless, with tears streaming down your cheeks.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･༓☾ Seven: Healing, Again ☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

The bitter, earthy scent of herbal infusions fills the temporarily transformed gisaeng house where you are working. Several of the women are already well versed in medical care, and all are ready to help. The house sits in the center of N city, near the market, an area easy to access and luckily, untouched by fire and the following destruction.

Days feel like weeks and weeks feel like days with the new routine you suddenly find yourself in. Early morning rounds with cool compress cloths to treat the ones with burns, gathering the berries and calendula flowers before the sun got too hot, brewing teas in the afternoon, a hurried supper so you can continue your work before it got too dark.

The time is long, but the moon has grown from waning crescent to waxing gibbous again before you know it, with the many people that come and go after receiving the care they need. The citizens are healing, gaining strength to rebuild again.

It’s late one evening when you see from the corner of your eye, an unmistakable design on a visitor entering. Midnight black, silky fabric with the emblem of a dragon. The ladle in your hand clatters to the floor and you pull up your skirts to run to the entrance.

As you get closer, yes, it’s the gold embroidery, yes, it’s the palace uniform. But he’s taller in stature. He’s not the one you’re looking for. Your steps come to a slow stop. Jaehyun recognizes you immediately and is equally quick to spare you of the suspense.

“We haven’t seen him yet.”

When your knees give out, he holds onto you and lets your tears soak his clothing.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It is a bizarre sight to see the crown prince enter town, not supported on a fancy palanquin but on the arms of Doyoung and Jeno, all in commoners’ clothing. You’re on the side of the street when you spot them, and you freeze in place before remembering to bow deeply. Jeno motions you to straighten. There’s no need to reveal identities, he whispers into your ear. Nodding with understanding, you help them to the house and find the nearest available space for Prince Na.

Word had spread that a powerful shaman was practicing in the center of town, but Doyoung had an idea of who that might be. He shares this with you with the slightest of gummy smiles. It took them a tumultuous journey to hide and travel safely, and it would take too much time to tell the tale. The prince’s health needs more immediate help first. You’re grateful the lost prince is alive, if not well, but the questions snowball in your mind, a thousand desperate thoughts begging to be answered. How did they escape? Did he survive too? But Doyoung explains the prince’s condition, symptoms, and what they’ve tried so far, and you need to pay utmost attention. Jaemin must have inhaled a large amount of smoke. His breathing is weak. He’s unable to speak. You fetch a jar of honey water to help with calming his cough and think of a few things that may reduce the swelling that must be inside his chest.

You learn from Jeno that the One Two Seven Squad is regathering. Though he doesn’t share many details, you read between the lines that what had happened was an unsuccessful coup. You hull soybeans while you talk, using low voices to avoid bothering the patients in your care, the water sloshing and providing cover for the classified information. Prince Na is asleep now, but Jeno’s gaze is fixed on him as he speaks.

Though the city is safe for now, he and the others are still on high alert. They would keep Prince Na hidden until they strategize their next move. You remember that Jeno used to train with Mark when they were younger, so you finally gather your courage to ask whether he heard any news, heart thumping hard.

“Ah, Mark… We parted ways just a few days ago.” Jeno’s voice always holds the most even, balanced tone. You can’t decipher what that meant.

“Parted ways?”

“Yes, he said he had somewhere he needed to visit.” You breathe out the breath that you had been holding, relief washing over you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

If he could put it simply, you are a vision. Mark made his way back to the city in sorrow and disappointment, to where he knew his colleagues would bring the prince, not knowing it would lead to you. He had thought he lost you, just as you had thought you’d lost him.

Your back is to him, but he could identify your shadow anywhere. You have one palm against your forehead and the other on a child’s, checking her temperature. They call it your healing touch, your intuition, your experience, or your willingness to try, but for Mark, he knows it’s all your heart. He regrets ever doubting your intentions. He thought he was serving the kingdom, but all along, you… you were truly serving its people.

Mark waits until you’ve finished your work for the night, not unlike many nights before, in a different setting that feels so long ago with the events that had transpired. He knows you’ve found your place at last. One without rigid roles and gates to keep you back. He only hopes that he can be by your side again.

After whispering instructions to the nurse taking the next shift, you wrap your arms around yourself and rub them up and down for some warmth. You’re about to start on a brisk night time walk outdoors to clear your thoughts when he leaps from the rooftop and into your line of sight.

You think you may be delirious. But you amble towards the figure of Mark anyways until you’re standing right in front of him. You open your mouth to say the first thing on your mind, a heartbroken “I’m so sorry” on the tip of your tongue, but Mark doesn’t let you finish your sentence. He throws an arm around you. And when you circle your arms around him tightly and lean into him too, he kisses you full on the lips. You relish in the feeling: passionate, bold, connected once more. You open up and let him in. Then gently, he draws back to kiss your eyelashes, wet with tears, only stopping to murmur, “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m sorry I took so long to return to you.”

You move to press closer into his embrace but look down to find his left arm in the way, poorly wrapped and held against his chest. He is the definition of a hero and a protector, and you want nothing more than to be his healing balm from now on. “Oh, Mark… I’ll make it better. I promise I’ll make it better.”

“You will. I know you will.”

You have many questions and Mark answers as you walk together, the moon shining brightly above.

“Where’d you go these last few days?”

“To the lake. To your home. I didn’t know where to find you.” You look up at Mark in wonder, and he pulls you closer with the arm around your waist.

“The roads have been restored?”

“Partly.”

“How… how are they?”

“Your parents and the villagers are safe. They… we… I thought you were gone.” It’s your turn to give him a squeeze. “We can send them a letter first thing tomorrow morning to let them know you are well too.”

“How’d you get hurt?” You start to inspect him, touching his shoulder gingerly and feeling the muscle in his upper arm.

He turns sheepish and glances away. “I actually tripped and fell on my arm when saying bye to your parents. It was very embarrassing. Please don’t tell anyone!”

You stop in your tracks and shake your head in laughter, glad it wasn’t too serious after all. Then you are pulling on his shirt collar so he knows what you want. “At least it wasn’t your writing arm, I guess.”

He’s glad too. And he knows there will be many stories to write about, with you. Mark leans in to close the distance again. Because sometimes, often-times, kisses are even better than words.

˚·̩̩̥͙‧⁺˚*･༓☾ the end ☽༓･*˚⁺‧·̩̩̥͙˚

Thank you for reading! Hope your heart is full of love and wonder, and that you may dream a little past what you believe is possible.

Writing references: Joseon female physicians uinyeo | historical drama/sageuk vocab | korean herbs 1 & 2

#mark x reader #fluff #smut #recs #yn brainrot #mark x reader: fluff #mark x reader: smut

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years ago

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BSD x university au hc’s | pt. 2

part 2 of the university au hc’s !! i am obviously a slut for chuuya and fyodor so don’t mind me. i hope you guys like this !!

check out pt. 1 here

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

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke:

i love akutagawa ryuunosuke my angst child but i’m just like ‘hmmmmmmm’ when it comes to what his course would probably be

after extensive research aka reading his character page on wiki i feel like maybe he’d be a history major because,,,, he likes antiques?

well his clothes do seem very dark academia-esque and i can see him liking something as cool as history

akutagawa’s probably into something like war history but he’s not weird about it he just finds it really cool how different strategies work or analyzing what exactly makes the winners win

he absolutely HATES the fact that he keeps having to read the Iliad for class

he’s also that classmate who INTENSIVELY DEFENDS achilles for being a bit of a little bitch (but he fully agrees that patroclus and achilles were gay af ok this was random moving on)

akutagawa has practically no social life. he doesn’t go to parties, he doesn’t talk to his roommate, he doesn’t even like to eat in the dining hall

BUT he absolutely loves being in debate team because WINNING

he’s such a nightmare to work with though but he just delivers so well when it’s time for him to speak. like, if he’s on a negative and it’s time to hash out rebuttals, just prepare to get MURDERED

other debaters: “esteemed scholars and adjudicators...”

akutagawa: “you, sir, have no idea how wrong you are.”

that is until dazai decided to randomly show up at a debate tournament all ‘la di da da’ like and completely crushed akutagawa along with his ego

from then on he started stalking dazai and just SOMEHOW managed to end up in his circle of friends

even though he’s antisocial in real life, akutagawa 100% runs a dark academia aesthetic blog on tumblr i’m right and i don’t accept criticism

it’s actually really good he has a ton of followers and even does requests for moodboards if someone asks nicely

atsushi was the one who actually found out about it but he’s nice so he didn’t tell akutagawa about it

kunikida probably follows that blog

Chuuya Nakahara:

if this part sounds like i’m just thirsting for chuuya then you’re absolutely right i love wine man

don’t get mad at me but i can ABSOLUTELY SEE HIM MAJORING IN FASHION DESIGN I MEAN LOOK AT HIM

he’s just always had such a good eye for fashion and he’s veryyy meticulous when it comes to snipping and putting together clothes

chuuya also carries a sketchbook full of designs and his drawings look amazing and he isn’t afraid to just show them off

that said he doesn’t dress like a tired uni student at all, like he just always looks so on-point and unbothered by his five million deadlines

dazai: chuuya, i said this was a CASUAL LUNCH

chuuya, dressed in what looks like silk pajamas: THIS IS CASUAL

tbh if he just wore a white t-shirt and jeans i would die maybe he’s actually saving us from this ordeal

he has so much talent though as a designer he’s probably had several internships with design companies all throughout his years at uni

i feel like chuuya’s also really active in extracurriculars and has been in leadership positions in some of them (he probably runs the student org for fashion design)

chuuya in a student band though oh my gosh i can’t breathe i can’t breathe him as a VOCALIST?? and wearing torn jeans and eyeliner and that same hat in concerts ican’t brEATHE

okay in all honesty he would thrive being in a band chuuya loves the attention and the creativity of being able to design their whole look and write songs

tbh i don’t know if he’d have a roommate chuuya’s probably the type who’d rather have one of those single rooms or just rent a flat for him to stay in even after graduation

because his social life is super vibrant, he does have a lot of friends and he does make an effort to get to know all of them individually

but he’s more open around those who he’s been friends with for a really long time and as much as he’d like to say dazai isn’t one of them, he is

also chuuya is definitely the type to party hard during the weekends and has more than once crashed in someone’s house after drinking too much (dazai drew on his face on more than one occasion)

Oda Sakunosuke:

i love this man SO MUCH you guys have no idea i would literally die for him

100% this guy majors in creative writing because this is supported by FACTS and not just me wanting to be coursemates with him in this fictional world

super serious and diligent with his work especially since he’s passionate about writing. he loves to read in his spare time and is such a fan of classic novels about social realism or philosophy

oda spends 99% of his time in second-hand bookshops that the owner probably knows him by name at this point

he’s super old school when it comes to writing though, like he still keeps and writes in a notebook before typing it up on a laptop and no matter how many times dazai tells him its impractical, oda just keeps doing it

lmao whenever workshops come around he’s super nice with his critique. i bet a lot of his fellow classmates like sending their writing drafts to him

he draws smiley faces and always adds ‘nice work’ on people’s drafts omg i love odasaku

he’s such an old soul, he probably doesn’t do a whole lot of partying but he likes more quiet, private social events like drinking with close friends or just hanging out and talking at other people’s houses

he and dazai probably met when dazai decided to take an intro to creative writing class and wrote a long poem about double suicide on his first day that kind of put off everyone in the class from wanting to sit with him

odasaku was the only one who wasn’t exactly bothered but he did give dazai some comments to help him with his poetry and dazai instantly wanted to be his friend

in terms of extracurricular life, i can definitely see odasaku joining a writing organization and even the campus newspaper. he does find joy in interviewing students for newspaper articles

he’s also pretty into photography and uses a really old, second-hand camera that he bought at an antique store and fixed himself. at one point he won a prize in a contest

odasaku would be the best roommate. he’s super sensitive to when you have a bad day and will invite you to sit on his bed and hug his pillow and talk about your problems

scratch that, everyone talks to odasaku about their problems and now your room is like a therapist’s office

Edgar Allan Poe:

i swear this was the only gif i could find other than actual edgar allan poe

ANOTHER CREATIVE WRITING BUDDY AHHH I WOULD LOVE TO BE BESTIES WITH HIM AHHH

well actually i feel like since he’s super ambitious and already has a fixed idea on the stuff he likes to write, he’d probably double major in something like forensic science because he’d use it to write his mystery novels

omg that’s where he meets ranpo and now pretty much every main character poe writes is slightly based on on ranpo

it’s a problem. his professor brings it up more than once during his classes but it’s poe’s Thing now

he also has such an unending passion for gothic literature and he wears those white, long-sleeved blouses and waistcoats on a REGULAR BASIS

chuuya probably saw him once and was like ‘hmm, i could pull that off’

poe’s daily route is just going to the library and to class and then go home and that’s about it

he ended up working as a student assistant at the library because he’s just super familiar with the book collections and it’s a job that’s peaceful and quiet

more than once though, he’d just be really in-deep with his writing to the point that he doesn’t even notice that the library has closed or that he hasn’t eaten the entire day

that’s alright though because ranpo always passes by the library at night to check on his friend and (reluctantly) give him some snacks

also since poe’s pretty much a recluse, he doesn’t go to any social event UNLESS it’s a halloween-themed one

he loves going all out with his costumes because he’s a Drama Queen like that but the problem is he keeps dressing up as gothic novel characters and nobody gets it

dazai, trying to guess his costume: umm,, Two-Face from Batman?

poe: IT’S DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE

there was this one time when poe took it upon himself to host the halloween party and it was EPIC

he basically designed it as a murder mystery night wherein everyone who came pretended to be guests at a house and then a murder happened

the only problem was that ranpo was conspiring with poe and it was pretty much unfair

except for the fact that ranpo was frustrated at how bad everyone was at deducing that he ended up solving the mystery for them

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

one of my favorite scenes of him in s3 was of fyodor playing the cello because god damn that is beautiful and therefore i am hc-ing him as a music major and you can’t tell me otherwise

fyodor is an absolute music genius and he was definitely scouted by the university’s music program and then he was granted a scholarship (because in this ideal university, the arts are valued)

he purposely decided to go to a university rather than a music conservatory because he’s also interested in learning a bunch of other things

aside from his music classes, he ventures into comparative literature and philosophy, even a bit of computer science at some point

people always assume that since he’s a music major he probably wouldn’t do well in other subjects but SURPRISE BITCH

anyway, fyodor’s a genius because god clearly has favorites

aside from attending class, he’s even part of an official orchestra and has even landed a few solos

that said, he’s quite busy and very preoccupied in his own work to actually have a social life either

you’ll often find him rehearsing by himself in an empty classroom for hours and hours on end (someone pls bring him food he’s also the type to forget to eat or even drink water)

if you are able to catch him perform at an orchestra or just practice by himself, it’s quite a mesmerizing sight. his eyes are often closed so he could focus on the sound alone and his fingers move so elegantly along the neck of the cello

(sorry i just love people who play any form of stringed instrument)

fyodor also takes such good care of his cello. also he would probably kill you on the spot if you touched his bow

he has a fairly small group of friends and they like playing chess together (even though fyodor is better than all of them) and just talk about um,, idk philosophy and stuff (whatever it is smart people do idk i’m not one of them)

i have a feeling he actually follows akutagawa’s dark academia blog and loves his content, even to the point of requesting ‘cello player moodboards’

also because he’s a cello player he needs to take care of his fingers so he wears gloves a lot (idk why i find this hot)

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

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @tpwkatsumu @laure-chan

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd writing #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs writing #bungou stray dogs headcanons #akutagawa ryuunosuke #chuuya nakahara #oda sakunosuke #edgar allan poe #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs university au #bsd uni au #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bsd scenarios

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limit-list · 5 years ago

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CONCEPT!!! zukos a librarian at a community library, does story time for the kiddos, sokka’s friend toph works at the same library, and he likes to listen in on the children’s story time and draw the cute guy who makes funny voices and acts out the best parts of the stories. zuko catches him staring and gets flustered, demands to see what he’s been drawing, sokka is embarrassed and self-conscious of his artwork and doesn’t let him.

zuko misinterprets his ramblings and thinks he’s making fun of his scar and verbally eviscerates sokka. sokka is absolutely embarrassed and crushed and just doesn’t know what to do to make it right!! so he finds him after his shift and apologizes profusely and is like wtf can i do to make up for this and zukos all like “actions speak louder than words”.

so now zuko’s got sokka following him around like a duckling when their class and work schedules align, sketching him when zuko decides to let him, stocking the shelves, sorting books, helping pick out books for story time, getting to know him a lot better.

*cue the montage of adorable scenes of these absolute goofballs, at first super awkward-turtleduck, sokka slowly getting zuko to relax and have fun around him, sokka getting jealous about zuko’s coworker jin, zuko unknowingly getting jealous cause he thinks sokka likes yue due to toph’s teasing, sokka bringing zuko coffee and then tea when he hears stories about uncle iroh, the boss (who is definitely the cabbage merchant) getting mad at sokka for hanging around for no reason, zuko and sokka hiding in the shelves and shushing each other pointlessly cause neither can stop giggling and it’s obvious where they are (toph is just distracting the boss, and man sokka, you owe her for protecting your flirting time) and zuko realizes crap i really like him and goes back to being awkward, except this time sokka just doesn’t let him, he keeps them together as friends even tho sokka is so freakin interested!!! he’s used to zukos weirdness and doesn’t expect anything more than friendship, really toph, there’s no way zuko likes him and he’s fine with that. totally fine. and every so often sokka’s other friends drop by and chat for a bit and zuko just keeps falling harder for him but doesn’t wanna risk everything cause now he’s not just friends with sokka, he likes all of his friends too, so he just pines from afar*

they get to be friends, duh, and then finally zuko gets to work one morning that sokka said he would be at and can’t find sokka anywhere, and he’s like ??? but decides to let it be (cause no one he ever wants to stay does besides his books and his uncle)

(he’s very clearly freaking out and trying not to, but toph just smirks when he asks where sokka is and says “around” so he’s assuming things are fine. things are f i n e, stupid brain)

however, when he goes to sort the books from the drop off bin there’s a quick lil sketch done of sokka holding up books with ridiculous titles and zuko laughing his ass off from last week. zukos in like shock at first cause he really thought sokka was never gonna let him see his art!! so he’s in shock, and he texts sokka a picture with ?????? but gets no reply.

zuko leaves it cause he’s still got a job to do, sorts all the books, goes to put them on the cart and taped to the side of the cart is a detail sketch of a hand on books, a hand with long fingers and perfect nails and a scar across two knuckles and wtf that’s zukos hand?? and so zuko tries to call sokka and there’s no response, so he’s like well okay. (he’s not overthinking this, he’s not getting his hopes up, he’s n o t)

zuko goes about doing his thing, reshelves, and then in the war book section he finds a little cartoon-style sketch of he and sokka when they re-enacted a battle on the tables and chairs of the big reading area and at this point zuko just takes a picture and sends it off with “okay but i clearly won the battle”, keeps moving.

today’s not his day to read to the kids, so he moves on to check out duty, where he finds a little doodle of sokka holding the scanner up to zuko’s face, captioned “yes, i’m checking you out.” zuko does his picture thing and says “hilarious.” (but internally he’s freaking out and doesn’t know if sokkas being serious or making fun of him and he doesn’t know what to do with this and no he is NOT freaking out he’s just mildly concerned)

zuko says hi to all the kids as they’re coming in for story time as they’re passing by. and then toph is like “oh shit, i think yue forgot to grab the books for today, can you bring them to her?” and zuko is like yeah sure, grabs the stack of books off the spot for children’s time and heads over to the kids area.

where he’s stopped short when he sees sokka telling a story to the kids. and he’s like wtf is this what’s going on?? but sokka sees him and just grins and is like ah yes children!!! here is the prince, come to save the peasant boy!!! and all the children cheer!!! sokka winks at zuko takes the books, goes back to the front of the room, and is like “okay kids ready for the actual stories?” but then a kid pipes up and is like “hey!! i thought you said the prince was in love with the peasant boy!!” and sokka just blushes really hard is like “no! i didn’t say that!” but another kid is like “fairy tales end with a kiss!!! mr. zuko has to kiss you!!!”

and sokkas just like total blush face, gaped mouth, then snaps his mouth shut and hisses “kids this isn’t the plan!!”, his eyes are going from the kids to zuko to the kids like he’s not sure who to be worried about more, but zuko’s been hit by his clue-by-four and is like ahhh i see, and kisses sokka on the cheek for the kids sake, then whispers something like “after my shift, can a prince get the real reward for saving you?” and sokkas just gaping before nodding frantically.

and so zukos laughing, says bye to all the kids, and goes back to check out duty. (and he’s still not freaking out, cause this time he’s got hope and confusion and he really can’t wait to see sokka again and figure this out).

story time ends, the kids all head out, last kid is overheard telling his mom about how he wants to be a prince so he can kiss the peasant boy while the mom is just like sure honey, sokka wanders up to zukos check out station like... hi? and zuko just completely straight face, looks him up and down, and then clicks his scanner in his face. and sokka just sputters “hey that’s MY joke!!!” and zuko rolls his eyes and pulls him down and kisses him over the counter, and in the distance toph yells “SUCCESS” while she and yue are holding the boss back from interfering.

(and later, zuko stops abruptly and is like “what did you mean when you told this kids this wasn’t the plan?” and sokka blushes again and mumbles “i might’ve had a plan to convince you i like you through book selection” and zuko is quiet and then he’s just laughing so hard, and he’s like “thank GOD the kids came up with a better plan, i’m entirely too oblivious for that buddy”)

(toph and yue bribed the kids with lollipops to force zuko and sokka together. the pining was exhausting to watch/listen to.)

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the-l-spacer · 4 years ago

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Summary: In which Madeleine's latest attempt to hash things out with Espresso gets a little... out of hand.

This is my first cookie run fic i. genuinely can’t believe im writing for this game now. Anyways, hope ya like it!!

He sees the knight striding towards him, spotless armour clinking smartly with each step he takes, cloak billowing ever-so-slightly behind him.

His lip curls, practically a reflex.

“Espresso. Do you have a moment?” Madeleine's voice, like his appearance, is meticulously crafted to capture the attention of anyone in his vicinity. A deep, resonant baritone that carries authority, brooks no room for disagreement, least of all disagreement from a particular surly practitioner of Coffee Magic.

Or at least, that’s what Madeleine likes to think. For all his chivalrous acts and airs seem to have no effect on Espresso in the slightest, who simply sighs and rolls his dark, bespectacled eyes.

“Do me a favour; skip the pretence that participation in this conversation is optional, and get to the point. I have research that needs attending to.”

Perhaps a few months ago, Espresso’s brusque reply would have stopped Madeleine in his tracks, wiped the genial smile off his face. But as it is, they’ve spent far too much time together (unwillingly, on Espresso’s part) for the other to be fazed by mere unfriendliness. So he simply barrels on as if Espresso had never spoken. “It appears as if that young band of cookies are keen on having us join their party.”

As one, they glance over to the campsite a little ways away, where Gingerbrave and Chilli Pepper are engaged in a mock-swordfight, wielding pieces of gathered firewood, with Wizard, Strawberry and Custard cheering on. Gingerbrave rushes forward, ‘sword’ held aloft, but Chilli Pepper sidesteps his attack, and before his momentum can carry him too far, grabs the scruff of his collar, and turns him to face her. “Sloppy work, kid. I could catch that coming from a mile away. Next time, try-” She pauses mid sentence, noticing Espresso and Madeleine’s gazes. She winks, and gives a two-fingered salute. “Hey! Wanna watch me spar with a buncha kids? There’s plenty of room on that log over there, but just a little warning, I charge adult spectators.”

Madeleine waves a hand. “No need to relieve our pockets just yet, friend Chilli Pepper. Espresso and I are perfectly content watching from afar.”

“And besides, we have better things to do,” Espresso adds, “Like being corralled by a paladin into having pointless conversations.” The last bit, he aims at Madeleine, who’s response is to grin wider.

If the irony in Espresso’s statement registers to Chilli Pepper, she doesn’t show it, and simply shrugs. “Don’t let me interrupt. You boys might wanna head a little further away to have that ‘pointless conversation’ though, it’s probably gonna get noisy up in this joint.”

“An excellent idea! My humblest thanks!” Madeleine sweeps into an exaggerated bow, and takes Espresso by the elbow. “My compatriot and I shall head a little further into the woods for our chat.”

Custard perks up at that, and shouts, “Be careful! There might still be cake monsters running around, and as king, I can’t let my subjects be hurt!”

“Not to worry, we’re more than capable of defending ourselves. If our previous encounters with those beasts suggested anything...”

As Madeleine talks, Espresso discretely tries to wriggle free from the hand on his elbow, but his attempts prove futile, Madeleine’s grip is loose but firm, forming a little cage around his arm.

He lets his arm go limp, and when the grasp loosens slightly in response, he flicks his free hand, around which (unbeknownst to the jabbering knight) shadows had been gathering for quite some time.

A tendril of magic whips around and strikes Madeleine’s wrist.

“-And as Knight of the Madeleine House, I was trained since I was but a little cookie, much like your merry band, to- ah!” When the tendril connects with a small thwack, he releases Espresso, jerking away as if burned (in actuality, the magic was really just a moderately heated slap. Espresso didn’t want to do any serious damage to Madeleine, after all.)

The seemingly permanent smile on the knight’s face falters, just for a second, and Espresso allows himself a moment of schadenfreude.

“Is... is everything okay, Madeleine?” Strawberry pipes up from her spot on the log.

“Quite alright, quite alright.” The ten-carat smile is back in full force, and once again, he waves his (non-injured) hand airily, though Espresso notes with some satisfaction the displeased side glance Madeleine shoots at him.

Espresso’s face pulls into a smile of his own, falsely sweet. “Well. Shall we be off, then?” He begins walking into the woods. True, he would much rather be tucked away in some quiet corner, poring over magical scrolls, but if he has to be subjected to this... chat, at least he can try to have some fun while doing so. Make Madeleine regret initiating contact, make him trail behind for once.

And sure enough, Madeleine follows after him, making long strides to catch up.

As they retreat into the forest, Gingerbrave shouts, “Come back in time for dinner! We’re having sweet jelly stew!”

“We’ll be there,” Madeleine replies, not needing to raise his voice for it to carry across the clearing where they had set up camp.

The other cookies give their final waves, and return to sparring, the sounds of cheering and wood striking wood fading the deeper in Espresso and Madeleine travel.

Eventually, the noises from the campsite fade entirely, replaced by the chirping of birds, and the soft rustling of trees. The last of the day’s light dapples through the jelly forest’s leaves, and Espresso might have called the whole scene pleasant, if not for the cookie next to him.

They come to a stop in a forest clearing. “Is this far enough for your liking, oh Knight-Commander of House Madeleine?”

Madeleine leans against a tree, the light glinting off his armour. “You know, the attitude really isn’t necessary, and neither,” he cocks his head, glossy hair spilling over one shoulder, his reprimanding smile akin to a teacher lecturing a particularly irritating student, “was the use of dark magic back there.”

Espresso smirks. “Ah. Have I discovered your weakness? Is the pride of House Madeleine scared of a little magic? I just meant for it to tickle, really.”

A scowl begins to form on Madeleine’s face, before he schools it back into careful neutrality. “You must be intelligent enough to grasp my meaning. It’s not the act itself, it’s the…” He gestures loosely in the air, his right hand still slightly red, “... the spirit of it all. Cookies who fight together shouldn’t turn on one another. It simply isn’t right.”

“Mmm. Mm hmm. Of course it isn’t.” Espresso, in a bid to minimize the dirt from the forest floor getting on his robes, opts to hover just a little above the ground, and Madeleine has to crane his neck to meet his gaze. “And I’m sure wrestling the cookie you’re supposed to be fighting with into the woods is so much more excusable.”

Madeleine bristles. “You wouldn’t have agreed to this conversation otherwise, as you’ve made so abundantly clear in the past. All I did was ensure you wouldn’t be able to weasel your way out of the inevitable yet another time.”

“What about our current situation makes you think this conversation is inevitable?” Espresso snaps. “I’ve told you time and time again I don’t care for your company. Our paths crossed once, we travelled together briefly to achieve our own goals, and parted ways. We work together acceptably, and we tolerate each other, barely. What more is there to be said between us?”

“Well, for one,” Madeleine says, standing just a bit straighter, as if to deliver a set of prepared lines, “I was telling you, before we were interrupted, that Gingerbrave and his fellows seem eager to have us as travelers alongside them.”

“Yes. And?”

“And I’m sure you are as keen as I am on accepting their offer.”

Espresso stiffens. He hates cookies who presume things about him, and more than that, he hates when those presumptions are right. After a moment, he bites out, “Even if I was, what of it.”

“We’ll be traveling together once again. Serving as their protectors, and all that.”

“So what? As I said, we’ve travelled in each other’s companies before.”

“Yes, but I believe this will be our longest journey yet. They seek answers, a way to defeat the evil forces rising, and this is no easy feat.”

“I seek no such thing,” Espresso scoffs, folding his arms. “I only know that they’re searching for the Forgotten Academy, and that particular locality has a library I’ve been meaning to peruse for a while. I plan to travel with them until that point, where we will then part ways.”

“Even then, according to my maps the Forgotten Academy is weeks away. Maybe a month. Months, if we keep up our current pace. A considerable amount of time that allows for sour dough to spoil further. I simply think it… unwise, to allow things between us two to reach such a point.” Having finally said his piece, Madeleine pushes himself off the roll cake trunk, and starts towards Espresso, open palm outstretched.

No, not again. They had done this dance before, and Espresso isn’t planning to retrace those steps. He whizzes backward, out of Madeleine’s reach.

“I’m not interested in becoming friends, knight,” he spits. “And I tire of your constant overtures.”

Madeleine’s hand returns to his side in an impatient motion. “Must you insist on being this- this difficult?” He asks, voice fraught with frustration. “It is a simple offer. Put our differences aside and work together amicably, if only to to make our journey more tolerable for us and our companions.”

“Ahhh but there’s the rub, Madeleine,” Espresso retorts, “I’m afraid our differences are too great to reconcile. If that is all you have for me, I think I’ll be returning to camp. I would say it’s been a pleasure, but… you know better.”

He makes to leave, floating quickly away to leave the knight behind, but catches a blur of movement from the corner of his eye. Before he can react, Madeline moves forward, his armour and shield glowing. With a flash, the shield comes down on the edge of Espresso’s long, dark cloak, pinning it to the forest floor.

Both of them hear the telltale sound of ripping fabric.

“Don’t move.” Madeleine warns.

Espresso’s vision goes red. He gathers the shadows to him, wreathing his clenched fists in black swirls of magic.

He doesn’t move.

A pause, then the shield lifts.

Espresso doesn’t wait to rush backward, heading straight for Madeleine. This time, it’s the knight that finds himself unprepared, as Espresso grabs him, and with the help of his magic, lifts him in the air, slamming him against the trunk of the nearest tree.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” he growls.

Their faces are close enough now that Espresso sees the tiniest twitch of fear in Madeleine’s expression. He doesn’t yield, keeping him pinned to the trunk.

Madeleine speaks, holding both hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “Now, now, I admit I was rather hasty, but there really is no need for-“

“- doesn’t feel nice, does it? Being trapped against your will?” Espresso cuts him off.

“Listen. I’m sorry things had to come to that point.”

Espresso sneers. Just as he predicted, Madeleine’s ‘apology’ is anything but. His mouth forms the syllables, but like a pedestrian one accidentally jostles on the street, his ‘sorry’ is merely a formality, said to hear the sound of his own voice.

Espresso doesn’t buy it, is what he’s saying.

“Save it. Save your pithy little apologies and insincere attempts at friendship for some other cookie.”

Madeleine’s face twists in indignation. “I’m not being insincere!”

Espresso drops him unceremoniously, the knight’s armour clattering when he lands on the soft earth. He tries not to betray his own fatigue, both in mind and body. Madeleine is heavy after all, weighed down further by his armour and weapons, making the act of holding him aloft (even aided by magic) one that had taken a not-insignificant toll on him. His feet touch down lightly on the ground, the glowing aura around him fades.

“Oh, spare me,” Espresso says coldly. “Every action, every toss of your hair or flick of your cloak, every word that comes out of your mouth betrays your insincerity.”

Having gathered himself, Madeleine finally snaps, drawing his sword from its scabbard with a metallic hiss. “How dare you.” His voice, a dangerous murmur, grows louder and louder, until it carries to the treetops. “I don’t know what I have done to offend you so. I attempted to be friendly, and reach out with offers of peace, as my family taught me to do for years, but you insist on rebuffing me, sullying my good name with your.. your insolence!”

The sword is pointed at Espresso’s throat, now, and the magician takes a careful step backward, keeping an eye on the gleaming blade. Madeleine doesn’t seem to notice, however, as he barks, “I’ve been lenient in the past, but as a cookie of honour, I can’t let such words continue to slide. The Divine, protect me!”

Celestial light bathes the forest clearing, surrounding Madeleine in its radiance. He lunges forward and swings his sword, a ray of light arcing from its blade. Espresso, caught unawares, finds himself knocked back, sent stumbling to catch his footing.

He regains his balance, clutching on to a tree branch, and counters the next light ray with an explosion of coffee beans that makes Madeleine's attack fizzle out.

“You know I’m right about you,” Espresso taunts, “in fact, we both know this is all a little charade you put on, because-” he plants his feet firmly in the ground, bracing himself against a third wave of light magic. “- beneath all your bravado, your shiny armour and fancy new weapons, you are empty.”

“That’s not true!” Madeleine roars, attempting to close the distance between them. But Espresso splays his hands, and a swirling vortex forms, pulling the paladin backward and into its dark center. Madeleine staggers in pain.

“You’re just a selfish glory-seeker, as slow and soulless as the monsters that- gah!”

Dexterity had never been his strong suit, so when Madeleine’s retaliating attack comes, he doesn’t dodge quickly enough. He sees the sword swing, feels an impact across his face, before his world goes blurry.

His glasses!

A lance of panic spikes through his chest.

He can’t see. He can’t see and he can’t look for his glasses either because if he steps on them that’s it. And Madeleine will win or worse he’ll just leave him here, in the middle of the woods.

The attacks stop coming.

The forest is silent once more, but for the two cookies’ heavy breathing.

Then, Espresso hears the crunching of leaves, sees the blurry shape of Madeleine stride towards him. He readies his magic. Madeleine passes him, and bends down over a spot Espresso can’t quite see.

A familiar metallic object is pressed into his hand.

“Your glasses.”

In a flash, Espresso has them on again, and exhales in relief when the forest comes back into focus.

“I never meant to knock them over. I’m sorry.”

Espresso is about to respond, but Madeleine says, “We should not have let our discussion escalate like this.”

“I’m sorry. We?!” Espresso’s recently restored vision colours. “When it was you who dealt the first blow? You, who initiated this discussion in the first place, who-” He trails off, righteous indignation fading slightly when he sees Madeleine, who stands at arm’s length away from him, both hands resting on the pommel of his sword, his expression unreadable.

“..Yes. Fine. As allies, we shouldn’t have turned on each other like this.”

Madeleine says nothing, so Espresso continues. “But as our previous attempts at civility have shown, you are incapable of holding a conversation without trying to domineer over me, push me into situations I do not want to be in. And I… I admit that I went too far in my personal assessments of you, but the fact remains that I simply cannot work with you beyond what we already are. Allies, and nothing more.”

For the second time, Espresso begins walking back to camp. Madeleine makes no attempt to stop him. “Thank you for retrieving my glasses. Good evening.”

Before he can fully retreat into the copse of trees, he hears Madeleine’s voice, saying, “Wait.”

Espresso pauses for a moment, and continues walking.

“Wait. Please.”

The word ‘please’ sounds so strange on Madeleine’s lips, and Espresso realises he can’t recall if the cookie had ever said the word in all the time they had worked together.

He turns his head.

Madeleine is leaned against a tree, arms folded and a foot kicked up against the trunk. His face is hidden by a curtain of hair.

“You are from The Republic, yes?”

Thrown by the sudden question, Espresso says, “Yes. The both of us are.”

“You’re aware that The Republic is a peaceful nation. No conflict within its gates, no monsters to be found without.”

Where is this going? Espresso responds, “Safe, sterile, and utterly boring. I’m aware.”

“Then what,” Madeleine turns his face away from Espresso, addressing the trees, “what use do you think such a nation has for soldiers? For knights?”

Oh.

Madeleine laughs, not his usual hearty guffaw, filled to the brim with bravado, but a short and bitter exhalation. “Do you know what it’s like to be, as you called me, the ‘slow’ one, in a family of scholars and politicians? For your only prowess to be your physical strength, in a place where that skill is entirely unnecessary?”

“But the knight order you lead-”

“- is purely for show. Just cookies dressed up in shiny armour to remind the other kingdoms we’re not to be trifled with. None of them have actually seen a day of real combat outside of sparring.”

Espresso is back in the clearing, picking a position next to Madeleine so he doesn’t see his sympathetic expression.

“Then… the reason you and all the knights were sent out?”

“As I said, my mission was to seek the legendary Soul Jam that is supposed to grant us cookies eternal life. Not that anyone in the Republic really expects us to find it.”

“They wanted to get rid of you, then.”

Madeleine visibly flinches at Espresso’s words. “I wouldn’t put it so bluntly, but… yes. I’m welcome back home, of course. If I were to return, I’d be met with trumpets and fanfare, but not much else, and certainly not anything approaching respect from those who truly matter.” The knight clenches his fist. “This quest is to be my saving grace. My only purpose, and the only way one like me can conceivably bring pride to House Madeleine. The only way I can be of use”

Espresso regards Madeleine, the revelation casting the cookie in a new light.

“So.. yes, Espresso. I am a selfish glory-seeker. Perhaps I have no other choice but to be.” Madeleine’s previously ramrod-straight posture is gone, and in its place his fists are clenched, shoulders hunched inwards, his hair tumbling forward, shielding his face from view.

And a small part of Espresso feels the strangest urge to push that hair back, to place a comforting hand on the paladin’s shoulder. Anything to stop what has to be the strongest — the most annoying, surely, but the strongest nevertheless — cookie he knows from curling into himself, from hurting like this.

But he holds himself back. All he lets out is a soft, “I think I know how you feel. Not entirely, but some of it.”

Madeleine turns to look at Espresso, a blank expression on his face. “You do.”

The mage lets a spark of magic fly from his hand - a single, glowing coffee bean surrounded by dark shadow. “You have called what I do ‘black magic’ in the past.”

Madeleine, suddenly stricken, says, “I wouldn’t go so far as to call it ‘black magic’, but-”

“- Listen. You have, countless times. And it annoys me to no end, but I understand why. It does look like it, no?” He conjures more coffee beans, letting them spin in circles around him. “I’ve had this ability since I was a child. It did not come from dark origins, I did not make a pact with evil forces to obtain it, as some have believed. It simply was. My magic, like your physical strength, is a part of me.”

Madeleine simply nods.

“But people don’t understand Coffee Magic. Whenever I demonstrated my abilities, I’d be shunned, the respectable citizens of our beloved Republic saying that I was a child of Dark Enchantress Cookie.”

“Espresso…” His magic fizzles out, and now, it is his turn to look away, incapable of facing the pity that is surely in Madeleine’s gaze.

“I was barred from every magic school. I had to learn, and practice, and make it on my own. If I didn’t have Latte Cookie, I don’t know how I would have-” Espresso shakes his head. “No matter. All I am saying is that I do know how it feels, not to belong. To have to carve a place for yourself among people who can’t respect you.”

A hand settles on his shoulder, and Espresso almost flinches. He looks up, and his gaze meets Madeleine’s, earnest and apologetic. “Espresso, first and foremost, I am sorry that I ripped your cloak in trying to keep you here.”

Espresso’s eyes travel to his torn (and expensive) wizard’s cloak. “It’s fine. I’ll just have to get it repaired once we return to camp.”

Madeleine continues. “And I’m sorry, truly sorry that I misjudged you based on your magic. That I pushed when I should have respected your wishes. Respected you.”

And this time, Espresso believes Madeleine’s words. He lets his own hand creep upwards to rest over the knight’s.

He sighs. “And I apologise, too. I made undue assumptions about you, and let these assumptions colour my actions. I treated you poorly, and for that, I’m sorry.”

When their eyes meet again, it is as if the forest goes silent, nature’s rustle and hum being forgotten as the two look at each other, and for the first time, understand.

Of course, no moment can truly last, and it is Espresso who breaks the spell, gently moving Madeleine’s hand off his shoulder. “Naturally, don’t think this means I’ll let you strongarm me into doing whatever you want me to. You still irritate me. Incessantly.”

Madeleine chuckles. “Naturally. Besides, I do not imagine such actions will be necessary in the future. I think we understand each other perfectly clearly, now.”

Espresso lets a grin creep across his face. Rolling his eyes, he says, “Don’t assume you know everything based on a tidbit of my past. I encompass multitudes, Knight-Commander.”

“In turn, I request that you not write me off just yet,” Madeleine responds teasingly. “I may not know everything about you, but I would be very interested to,”

Both their eyes widen, Madeleine realising the forwardness of his statement. “That is. I will give you the space you need, certainly, but if you ever feel like-”

“- Wait. Stop.” Espresso takes a breath, lets it out. “I- I do feel the same way. You’re a good fighter, and I did not let myself give you a fair chance.”

He crosses the short distance between them, and extends a hand. “I’m Espresso Cookie of The Republic. Founder of the Coffee Magic School. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Madeleine regards the outstretched hand in wonder.

"... Don't make a big deal of it, knight."

He puffs out his chest, taking Espresso’s hand. “And I’m Madeleine Cookie of The Republic. Servant of The Divine, Knight Comm-” He stops himself, clears his throat. Then, he smiles and simply says, “I’m Madeleine Cookie. It’s an honour to get to know you.”

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #how 2 tag this aaaah #espresseleine

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years ago

Text

Yancy x Illinois - First Impressions Aren’t Always the Best

I decided to try properly writing Yanois, just to see how I’d manage it. After rewatching Illinois’ scenes, I think he would get on the nerves of the Yancy I write at first.

Word Count 2,122

(Read more because Illinois talks so much...)

Happy Trails Penitentiary was renowned for its rehabilitation initiatives. They had a wide variety of classes and visitors to help prisoners. Educational courses, chances to learn new skills, pen pal projects. Many prisoners would never have the opportunity for such experiences, and it was an integral part of helping them prepare for a better life outside of prison when their sentence was finished.

There was one visitor that most prisoners in Yancy’s ‘Gang’ adored. His name was Illinois, a renowned adventurer and archaeologist. Between his job in the university and research trips, he only had time to visit once every few months. It worked in his favour, as those that wanted to visit were able to to hear the various stories that Illinois was more than happy to tell. Not only that, it would encourage the small ‘fan club’ among the younger prisoners.

It was one of the few events that Yancy avoided. Something about Illinois rubbed him the wrong way. He was so arrogant and cocky, acting like the world revolved around him. It wasn’t an act, either. Yancy had spotted Illinois speaking to the Warden on his first visit two years earlier, and he acted the exact same way as he did in the talk that happened that day. After that, Yancy decided he didn’t want anything to do with the adventurer. But if Illinois were to ever become an inmate? Yancy would make sure Illinois had the snot beaten out of him within the first week.

Unfortunately, a lot of the Gang were of the opposite view, especially those around Yancy’s age. To them, Illinois walked straight out of an adventure movie and lived the ideal life. What prisoner didn’t dream of going exploring in uncharted territories? It meant that they would frequently share Illinois’ tales in rec yard when he came to visit. Yancy would roll his eyes, but keep quiet. Let them have their fun.

Today was the day that Illinois visited the prison. It had been over three months since the last visit, so there was an excited buzz among individuals in the Gang. Yancy spent the morning bracing himself. There was a talk after lunch that the others would go to, which would mean the rest of the afternoon and evening would be nothing but historical chatter and “Illinois is so cool!”. He would grumble, but he would keep that to himself. It wasn’t fair to deflate their excitement. He went to the library, found some random book and focused on that for the day. Then, once they had their excitement, it would die down and Yancy could enjoy more casual conversation.

Which was the plan… Until Bam-Bam pleaded for him to go to the last talk of the day. It turned out that his shift clashed with the talk everyone else they knew went to, and he didn’t want to go alone. Begrudgingly, Yancy closed the book, returned it to the shelf, and followed Bam-Bam. A flaw of being a loyal friend was knowing when to swallow your pride and do something you would rather not do.

When you go to something with low expectations, it can be incredibly difficult to feel the time was used in a worthwhile manner. Some might have memories of a teacher they hated, or a family gathering they had been dreading. This was a similar position to what Yancy found himself in. One of the ‘classrooms’ had been adjusted slightly to allow various displays to take center stage, with the chairs in neat rows in front of it. Bam-Bam and Yancy claimed two seats at the back, allowing the greaser to slouch in the chair with his arms crossed. Then, once more prisoners had arrived, the talk began.

On and on Illinois went, droning endlessly in that slow drawl. Yancy wished he had a TV remote to speed up the talking a fraction. Was Illinois focused on making sure everyone could understand him, or did he want to prolong the joy of hearing himself talk? It might have been more tolerable if Bam-Bam wasn’t genuinely engrossed in the lecture. They could have made amusing comments throughout. Instead, Yancy was stuck. Sure, history was interesting, but Illinois really drove home the stereotype of boring history teachers. The ‘adventures’ even sounded cliché and fake. Maybe he should have taken the book with him after all...

A painfully slow half hour passed. Once the talk was over, Illinois would literally open the floor to the other prisoners. The chairs would be pushed aside and those that wanted to look at the items Illinois brought were welcome to do so. Yancy was dragged along to view the pieces. Most of the articles were dated to be approximately eight thousand years old. What caught Bam-Bam’s attention was a stone carving that vaguely resembled a cat.

“Ahhh, I see the ‘White Jaguar’ has caught your attention.” Yancy had to repress a shudder at the smooth voice interrupting their own questions back and forth. Illinois stepped over, resting an arm against the perspex container. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? A miracle we even found her in the first place. She was why I wasn’t able to visit like I said I would last month.” Bam-Bam’s eager question had Illinois chuckle and shake his hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure you two gentlemen have much better things to do than hear about how I nearly lost my right hand in my most recent adventure.” When Bam-Bam insisted otherwise, Illinois smirked (and Yancy nearly gagged).

“If you insist. While on our recent dig, I noticed one of the ruins had a floor panel that looked a little different from the rest. It took a little persuasion, but I got that pesky stone up. There, sprawled out before me, was a staircase leading down into the earth. I picked up one of the torches and made my way down. Slowly, I delved deeper into the darkness. One step gave way under me to set off a series of poison-dipped darts, but I was able to dodge them all without breaking a sweat.” Illinois continued, dramatically regaling every single trap that he encountered until he found the White Jaguar. When taking everything around it, he surmised that the owner of the house had been a thief. The jaguar motif was familiar, as he had noticed something similar in a nearby cave that had been repurposed at the time as a sacred spot.

“- Now, this heart of this cave was still guarded by ancient jaguar spirits. They rattled the large statues as I approached, obviously sensing the treasure I carried. In the middle, there was a jaguar’s head carved out of stone. Its jaw was open wide and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was just the right spot for this precious lady. But then, skeletons of what I assume were magic users from an era long gone by pounced and tried to wrestle the statue off me, but I was too fast for them. At last, I reached the carved head, put the White Jaguar in the mouth… and the stone head moved, trapping my arm in a ferocious bite!” He gestured to the cloth wrapped around his right wrist. It was unwrapped just enough to show the healing bite marks. “It had the strength to bite it clean off, but relented when it realised what I had done by offering my arm as blood payment to return -”

“Wait wait wait.” Yancy’s interruption had Bam-Bam elbow him, but it didn’t stop the objection. “That can’t be right. If youse managed to bring this back to where it’s meant to be, why the fuck is it here?”

“An excellent question. This is my recreation of it. I am no thief. I return artefacts to where they belong. Archaeology has a rotten connection with thievery, and I try to rectify the mistakes of my predecessors.”

“So then this entire thing could be bullshit!” Yancy scoffed. “Bam-Bam, this guy just got bitten by someone’s dog and has made this pile of baloney to hide that.”

“Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

“Well, I ain’t calling you a ‘truther’, that’s for sure!”

Yancy was ready for a proper argument. In fact, he was hoping for one. Instead… Illinois laughed, and it wasn’t that typical ‘cocky chuckle’. It was a bright, genuine laugh. He could almost see Bam-Bam go starry-eyed at such a rare moment. Typical Yancy. Getting more attention from Illinois when he wanted to rile him up.

“I suppose it all does sound rather suspicious when you put it that way. Let me show you something.” Illinois gestured for the pair to follow him toward a display of photographs. Instead of pointing to these, he instead reached for his briefcase. A small photo album was pulled out. Yancy noticed that it was dated three months prior. While Illinois flipped through it, both prisoners could see what looked like an area that had been dug up. It matched the pictures in front of them of an excavation site. At last, Illinois found what he was looking for.

“One Guardian Jaguar, complete with the White Jaguar in its mouth. As you can see, the teeth have fresh blood on them. It was an… Oddly tranquil sight, despite the unfortunate situation.”

“So then why act like these are the real deal? People just take youse’s word for it?”

“Normally those that attend my talks know that what I show are my artistic recreations for purely educational purposes. I suppose I do take for granted that those who attend here are invested regulars.” Illinois gave a small shrug. “It’s an easy mistake to forget to remind people who might be new to my talks. I’m sorry if you thought I was a fraud, but I am the real deal. Too good to be true, yet here I am.”

“Yeah yeah, ‘sucks that I’m perfect as shit’, I get it. Least you knows not to make that mistake again.” Yancy rocked back on his heel with the intention of turning and walking away.

“Now now. I can’t let you walk off like that. Take this.” Another item was pulled out of his briefcase. “I made this smaller model of the White Jaguar as a ‘first draft’. I was intending on using it as motivation to my first-year students but… I think it should stay here with you.” Illinois took the opportunity to reach for Yancy’s hand. The small clay model was gently placed in it before Illinois curled Yancy’s fingers over it to keep it in place. His hands stayed where they were as he continued, “We think the White Jaguar was a symbol of good fortune. Perhaps it might bring you some good luck.” He smiled at Yancy, only to have the moment broken by the guard announcing that there were five minutes before the prisoners had to return to their cells for the afternoon count. Yancy took the chance to quickly leave the room without as much as a ‘goodbye’. At least his friend, who introduced himself as Bam-Bam, quickly thanked Illinois before darting out.

A few more questions were asked of him by other prisoners and curious staff; and then it was time to tidy up to bring everything back to the university. It was only when he reached the White Jaguar model did Illinois hesitate. There was something about that abrasive prisoner he couldn’t put his finger on. Was it because he seemed uninterested in the adventurer? Or was there something else? It was a rare moment that Illinois wished he’d had an excuse to chat to the prisoner longer. Maybe not here, but somewhere quieter. Just the two of them.

Huh… Was this what an attraction felt like? He joked about others falling in love with him so often, he wasn’t sure if this was payback for never returning interest in others. He was drawn toward a prisoner that seemed keen to dismiss his hard work and reputation. And worse! Illinois didn’t even know his name!

Then again… A good adventurer always loves the thrill of a mystery. Maybe he could try and find that prisoner next time he visited. Now that the university was open again, he’d be able to drop by more frequently…

For what it was worth, Yancy also had a mystery on his hands.

Namely, how to get away from Bam-Bam - who would not SHUT UP about their prolonged conversation with Illinois - and half the gang - who were incredibly jealous Yancy got a gift from the Illinois!

He dropped his head against the chow hall table with a low ‘thunk’. This was the opposite of getting the others to stop talking about Illinois around him!

#writersofmark #yancy #illinois ahwm #yanois #markiplier egos #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )#dramatic prisoner (Yancy)#cocky adventurer (Illinois)

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cinematecally · 3 years ago

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Done Watching: 지금 우리 학교는 (All of Us Are Dead), 2022

A group of high school students navigates their way to survive a zombie virus outbreak that started at their school.

Intermittent and Convenient Thrill

What stood out to me is how convenient everything seems for this group of kids, they are agile, quick-thinking, individuals, who happen to get hold of tools or information that could further give them more screen time, etc. Though that library scene was kinda cool at first watch, I did prefer the hallway scene and the music room scene.

A Lot of Loose Ends

There was also this pattern of escaping responsibility by dying. Most of the adult characters went through this. They stir shit up, then when danger blows, they chose to escape by passing, leaving hundreds of lives either hopeless or gone (or even both). There are a lot of things thrown in from left to right: from a crazy teacher capturing a student after being bitten by his jacked-up virus mouse, harassment scenes that are put there to make a point but in the end, the point is lost and nothing comes out of it, pairings randomly saying romantically injected melo things to each other then… vaguely be nothing, adults being shitty as usual, and so on.

A Promising Cast

Though I evidently have a lot of qualms, I still did have my fair share of oohs and ahhhs. Starting from the ensemble that is a good mix of familiar and fresh faces. Trusted actors that are sure to deliver 350% despite the lack of screen time and depth, and new kids that will for sure multiply the use of “iconic”, “feels”, and “deserves better” on every platform where you can find people rambling about this show.

I liked the class president and ex-fighter boy’s pairing the most, then the archer children next. The glances, the subtle ways to show concern, hand-holding, the reason to not eat the whole group, type of pain, and care. Like it was promising. I was eating all the crumbs. But in the end, as we wrap, not that I am expecting anything extravagant, they were kids after all, but things fell flat. We are back to .5 where friendship is there, but where the hell did the “I’mma-tie-her-hand-so-she’s-close-to-me” and “Bite-me-whenever-you-fell-like-it” factor go?

After a bit of research, I found out this whole thing was based on Webtoon. And it all now just made sense. Though coming in, I treated watching this as mindless fun altogether. As I do think I’m too old to watch high school kids go about. Given that there are 12 episodes, for a show tackling zombie outbreak survival, I already expected something amiss. Like again, I am not saying one should be a well written-slash-executed product, but there’s like a little hope in me something could have been done. But shows like this, in a format that seems to always lead to making another season, doesn’t feel all that right at all. An amusement park thrill ride of sorts, that gives you a burst of adrenaline then maybe could lead you to a dizzy, barf fest aftermath.

Maybe it’s a show to turn your brain off, or I am not part of the target audience, or it could be I’m missing the whole point. I just do hope for better shows that don’t rely on thrills, formulas, or actors to carry themselves above the script altogether.

My personal rating for this Korean Drama is C.

#Done Watching: 2022 #Korean Drama #K-Drama #지금 우리 학교는 #지금 우리 학교는 (All of Us Are Dead)

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heyyyharry · 5 years ago

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Chapter 8: The Little Prince and His Flower

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which Harry must return to Holmes Chapel, Y/N is upset he went without her, and family drama is not family-only.

Word count: 10k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

What to expect in this chapter: Gemma/Isaac, Niall/?, Ruby(???), and a graveyard ‘date’

Isaac closed his umbrella, almost too caught up in what had happened to realise it'd stopped raining since Gemma had left. His mouth opened to answer Emilia’s question, but his brain was stuttering, unable to keep up.

He'd kissed Gemma.

No, she had kissed him. He didn’t know why she’d done it, but did it matter? He'd kissed her back and he'd liked it. He'd kissed his best friend’s sister, who had a boyfriend, a shitty one, still, it didn’t justify what he’d done.

If Harry knew about this—

His stomach twisted into knots as his palms started to sweat. Harry couldn’t know about this. They were finally on good terms again. Isaac couldn’t fuck this up. Had Emilia seen the kiss? Would she tell Harry if she had?

Isaac took a deep breath to ease his mind. To Emilia, he said, “I came to see you. You didn’t show up for the shoot, Emi.”

“I lost my phone and I thought the shoot was next week.” She gave an apologetic grin. “I’m very sorry.”

Her apology didn’t sound sincere, but now he had bigger problems to worry about. With an impersonal tone, he said, “If you’re not interested anymore, you should’ve let me know so I could find someone else.”

“No, no, I still want to model for you!” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist before he even thought about ending the conversation. His alarmed expression got her blushing as she hid her hands behind her back, staring at her feet. “I’d been...um...I’d been busy preparing for my audition this morning. That was why I took two days off in a row, and then my boss called me here today because the shop got overcrowded.”

“An audition? For a movie?”

He hoped his startlement didn’t offend her. There was nothing wrong with her auditioning for a movie; she used to go to film school after all. But not so long ago she’d told him she’d already given up on her dream of becoming an actress, so he was curious to know how that passion had sparked again.

“Yes, a real movie!” she exclaimed, her green eyes twinkling like Harry’s whenever he talked about his job, or Y/N.

As if Emilia could read Isaac’s mind, she added, “Harry encouraged me to attend casting calls. I’ve done some commercials and modelling before, so a movie would be a nice challenge. He also gave me the contacts of some directors—” His dubious look stopped her midsentence, and her voice went flat, “I didn’t get them from his assistant. He actually gave them to me.”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. Please don’t explain.” With a frustrated exhalation, she peered around him. “Was that Gemma who just left?”

The hair stood up at the nape of his nape when he met her questioning gaze. Convinced that she’d seen the kiss, he had to admit, “Yeah, it was Gemma.”

Her eyes went round as she considered him in a sceptical manner. “Are you two dating?”

“No. She has a boyfriend.”

Gemma was so private that not many people knew she had a boyfriend. For all he knew, he could’ve lied to Emilia and gotten away with it even if she’d witnessed the kiss. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. He had a strict rule against lying. No matter how trivial you thought your lie was, you’d have to cover it up with more lies, and before you knew it, the lie had become too big, like a snowball rolling down a hill. The damage it would cause was inevitable.

Nodding slowly, Emilia ahhhhed in silence and concluded with, “Too bad. I’d love to talk to her.”

He waited for her to continue, but then she told him she had to get back to work and would text him with her new number. Just like that, she disappeared into the shop, leaving him in bafflement.

Emilia was the most curious person he’d ever met, so if knowing Gemma’s relationship status was a good enough answer for her, then she must’ve seen the kiss. What he couldn’t explain was how cool she’d been about it, as if him — her half-brother’s best friend — kissing her half-sister, who had a boyfriend, was the most normal thing in the world.

Either she hadn’t seen anything, or she was a much better actress than he thought.

Y/N had been a fool to think she would worry less about writing now that she’d found the perfect literary agent. For the last few months, she’d been stressed out about pitching her manuscript, but ever since she’d had Laura, her biggest concern had circled back to the manuscript itself.

Laura was a perfectionist, which was good, because she never made mistakes. But she expected the same thing from all of her clients, and Y/N would do anything to please that woman. Even if it meant pulling an all-nighter and living off on tea and protein bars just to finish another scene to move on to the next.

After their first meeting, Laura had emailed Y/N a very long list of what she ‘didn’t like’ about the story. Some scenes were redundant; the drama should be more intense; the plot twists weren’t shocking enough; more sex, more sex, more sex.

Y/N had vowed to herself that she would never, ever, write a generic story just to match a publisher’s bulleted list. Yet here she was, shamefully ticking boxes and changing the entire story as she went. If her characters could step out of the page, they would strangle her in her sleep for how she’d fucked up their lives. But if she was going to have an agent, she had to believe in her agent.

Laura knew what kind of book sold and what didn’t, and at this point, Y/N just wanted her novel to be published. She didn’t care if it wasn’t the best story in her opinion. As long as Laura guaranteed that Y/N’s babies would end up on the shelves in the biggest bookstores in London, Y/N would do anything – and she meant anything – Laura told her to.

“Y/N!”

The voice interrupted her train of thoughts, and she glanced up from her laptop screen to meet Alice’s amused gaze. “You haven’t touched your tea,” Alice said, her grin widened. Only then did Y/N realise her tea had been served a long while ago and already gotten cold. “And maybe stand up and walk around for a bit. How could you sit in one place for three fucking hours? Can you still feel your ass?”

Y/N snorted at the remark and wiggled against her chair. “This ass still feels pretty fine to me.”

“Weirdo,” Alice said, shaking her head.

But Alice did have a point. Y/N had been staring at the screen for so long that the words had begun to look all the same; a short break would do her some good.

Her shoulders sagged as she took off her AirPods, rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and glanced around the shop. It’d been so crowded when they had arrived this morning. Now, most of the customers had left, and there were only them, a couple at the table by the street-facing window, and three girls in the corner booth, who were laughing and taking selfies.

Alice shot them a disapproving glare before switching her attention back to the novella in her hands — The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Y/N’s mother had read it to her when she was little, and she still remembered the story as if she’d learned it by heart. You knew when a book was good when even Alice, who absolutely hated reading, could not put it down.

Not wanting to disrupt her friend, Y/N quietly pushed away from the table when Alice snapped her head up, her eyebrows scrunched. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta pee.”

Alice gave a dismissive wave, and her eyes were fixed on the book again.

In the bathroom, Y/N took the far back stall, telling herself to finish quickly so she could get back to work. But while cleaning herself, she heard echoes of high heels accompanied by the laughter of the previous group of girls. The door next to hers opened and shut, and the water ran as one girl washed her hands.

“Did she leave already?” asked the one in the stall.

“I think so,” said her friend outside.

“Shame. I thought Harry was gonna show up,” the third girl sighed in disappointment as the water stopped. The toilet flushed, heels clacked against the marble, and the water ran again.

“I saw him in the car park once,” continued the third voice. “He came to pick her up. You should’ve seen her bitchy face. No wonder she’s got no friend but the psycho Alice Young.”

Y/N scowled when the first girl chimed in, “Remember Mandy Torres from English Lit?”

The Mandy who’d pretended to be friends with Y/N and then shit-talked about her behind her back? Yes, she remembered.

“So Mandy invited them to her party because she’s a sweetheart. Then that bitch got insecure, thinking Mandy might steal her man, so she blew up at Many in the library, calling her names and stuff. Two people saw it!”

Y/N could bet these girls knew it was a lie, and still, they chose to believe it so they could have a reason to hate her.

Three of them laughed at the same time, and then the second one said, “Can’t believe she still showed her face after that clip.”

“What clip?” her friend asked, sounding just as confused as Y/N.

Her heart was pounding, and her fingers were clawing at her knees. She didn’t know what clip they were referring to. And why shouldn’t she show her face?

Yes, she and Harry had filmed a sex tape before, but they’d been careful and deleted it right after they’d watched it together. It was impossible that the clip still existed and had gotten leaked.

“Oh, you haven’t seen it? This morning, someone uploaded a clip of Harry Styles and Ruby Ellis dancing together at a party in LA. They were all over each other.”

“Oh my God, they’re definitely fucking again!”

“Can you blame him? Would you pick that whore over Ruby Ellis?”

Their laughter faded into white noise, and soon their footsteps had become mute.

Y/N sat there for a long moment, fists balling against her skirt until she was sure she was alone again. That was when she got on her feet, flushed the toilet and clawed the door open.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her by surprise. She almost didn’t recognise herself from how angry she looked. Taking a deep breath, she stomped to the sink to wash her hands and then dried them with a paper towel before going back to her table like nothing was wrong.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see those girls watching her. They whispered something to each other, probably shocked and embarrassed that she’d heard them say all those terrible things behind her back.

The old Y/N would have stepped out of the stall and put them in their place. But the new Y/N — Harry’s Y/N — wouldn’t put on a show in public and take down her boyfriend’s career and her dignity.

“You okay?” Alice asked when Y/N plopped down in the chair across from her.

Y/N flatly said, “yes,” and put on her AirPods to get back to work. No more distraction. Fuck those girls. Fuck the internet. She didn’t need to see that clip to–

Her phone buzzed once, and she flinched. Cece had sent her a post on Instagram.

Now what? Was she going to check it? Her mind went numb for a second as her fingers froze on the keyboards. She kept staring at the blinking cursor until her anxiety became too much, and she surrendered. She grabbed her phone, swiped right on the notification and placed her thumb on the home button to unlock the screen.

Have you seen this?

No, she hadn’t. And she hadn’t intended to until now.

The thumbnail of the video was too dark for her to make out what it was, but the caption said: WHAT HAPPENED TO Y/N??? With shocked emojis. Three shocked emojis. His fans were freaking out for her, so this might not be good.

Biting a nail, she muted the volume and tapped on the clip to be directed to the post. It was dark at first, but when the pink light started flashing, she could make out Harry’s figure. She knew his drunk dance moves; he was definitely three sheets to the wind here. Then, she caught a glimpse of the dress Niall had criticised the other night. Ruby looked just as drunk as she danced next to Harry, shouting the lyrics of whatever song the DJ was playing.

It was hard to know for sure what was happening here as it was too dark, but a part of Y/N felt relieved because she had expected worse. They were just dancing together, their bodies barely touching, and there were so many people around.

“Shit.”

She jerked her head to the side, and Alice’s face almost gave her a heart attack. Alice was standing beside her, one hand on the back of Y/N’s chair, the other lay flat on the table.

“I don’t care what everyone’s saying. It doesn’t look like he’s cheating on you.”

Y/N’s heart beat faster even though she knew Harry would never cheat. Not on her, nor anyone else. She’d seen how he’d beat himself up for sleeping with Ruby despite her having a boyfriend. He’d made mistakes in the past, but he would never hurt a woman by cheating on her.

Maybe the issue didn’t lie in the fact that everyone was saying he had or was going to cheat on Y/N. Maybe seeing him dance with Ruby – at the big fancy party Y/N had refused to attend – made her feel like he would be happier at places like that, with people like that, people like Ruby and his famous friends.

Her chest sank as she finished the thought, but she still managed to set it aside as she closed her laptop and rose from her seat. “Ready to go, Al?”

“Sure, but can I pee first? I need to pee.”

Alice’s grimace made her giggle as she watched her friend rush to the bathroom.

She began to gather her notebooks and chargers when her phone buzzed repeatedly, and when she saw it was Harry, she picked it up. Something told her he’d just woken up, seen the clip and freaked out. He should freak out. Because she’d almost had a heart attack.

She shoved the rest of her things into her bag and hit the talk button.

“I’ve seen the video, so we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Shit,” he grunted. “Are you mad at me? I swear I was drunk and didn’t know who I was dancing with, but Jeff called me a taxi afterwards and–”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you.”

When he let out a sigh, she could almost see him close his eyes and put a hand against his chest. “Where are you?”

“At a coffee shop on campus.” She leaned her hip against the table as she turned and made eye contact with one of the girls in the corner booth. The girl turned back to her friends like nothing was wrong, but Y/N knew the bitch was scared to death. To Harry, she said, “I’m heading home though. I’ll see you at the airport tonight, kay?”

“That...won’t be necessary.”

“What do you mean?” She straightened when realisation hit her. “Harry, where are you?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

She knew it.

“I knew it! I knew you’d go without me.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t want to involve you in my family drama. I’m going to talk to my mum alone, and then–”

She didn’t want to let him finish. “I’m already involved, though. I could help. You might get anxious and say the wrong things. Look how it went with Gemma.”

When he paused, she knew he knew she was right. Still, his stubborn ass would never admit it. “I’m sorry, babe. At least you can focus on your book while I’m not there. Miss you. See you soon.”

The line disconnected. She stared at the screen in disbelief, and text messages from him popped up.

Forgot to say I love you.

I love you.

With a sigh, she stuffed her phone into the front pocket of her backpack and pinched her temples. She hated that she couldn’t stay mad at him, but she wished he hadn’t blindsided her like that.

Whatever. She’d deal with him when he got back tomorrow.

She shrugged on the backpack just in time Alice returned from the bathroom. Alice clumsily threw her things into her nude tote bag and hurried to the door as Y/N preceded. The moment they stepped out into the street, Alice asked, “Did those Kardashian wannabes bother you when I was in the bathroom?”

She was referring to the girls in the corner booth.

“Why’d you think so?” Y/N responded as she kept on walking.

“I saw them glaring at you when we left, and I almost stopped to throw a fist.” Alice swung her fist and frantically apologized to an annoyed pedestrian for almost hitting him.

“Well, they talked shit about me in the bathroom and didn’t know I was there.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve poured drinks on them like I did with Mandy.”

Y/N froze in her tracks, her eyes widened. “You did what with Mandy?”

“I heard her talk shit about you at her party so I poured vodka on her head.” Alice clasped both hands together in front of her chest. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Y/N stared at her friend unblinkingly for a moment, and then crushed her in a fierce embrace. “You’re a good friend, Al. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Laughing, Alice clasped Y/N’s shoulders and pushed away from her. “You’re not going to cry, aren’t you?”

“No, you dick.” She brushed Alice’s hands off. “Lunch?”

“Sure. I’m starving.” With an arm around each other’s waist, they strolled down the busy pavement together.

After lunch in the Vietnamese restaurant right across from Y/N’s block, they ran into Blake outside. He was about to get into his car when he spotted Y/N and waved at her.

This was actually the first time she’d seen him in casual clothes. He always wore suits when he went to work, and workout clothes when he was at home. Today, he wore a black t-shirt with dark blue jeans, his hair uncombed, his smile wide. He looked almost five years younger. Almost like the ‘high school bad boy’ Blake that she remembered.

“Jesus, is that your ex-boyfriend slash neighbour?” Alice dropped her jaw as she fanned herself, and Y/N quickly swatted her on the arm.

Blake rested an arm on the roof of his car as a dimple appeared in his cheek. “Working on a Saturday, Miss Writer?”

“Working everyday, Mr Lawyer.”

Alice elbowed her gently while looking Blake up and down, so she had to add, “This is my friend Alice.”

“Nice to meet you, Alice. I’m Blake.”

Alice caught his hand with both of hers and shook it firmly. “Y/N has said a lot about you.”

“Has she?” Blake arched an eyebrow at Y/N, who scoffed and waved Alice’s comment away.

“Don’t believe her. She’s nuts.”

“Hey!”

Y/N ignored her friend and switched her attention to Blake’s car. He hated driving as much as she did, only because he preferred his motorcycle – which she assumed he’d left in the US – otherwise he would rather walk. And since he didn’t have to work on Saturdays, she took a guess that he was going out of town.

“Where are you going?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

His answer made her flinch. From what she’d heard, his parents didn’t live there anymore. So why would he go there?

“I’m visiting my grandma,” he said before she could ask. “You’ve met her a few times, remember?”

She nodded. His grandma used to love her. After they’d broken up, Y/N had even considered going to his grandma’s house every day so that Grandma Roman would grow attached to her and convince Blake to get back with her. Now she was glad teenage Y/N hadn’t had the nerves to do something so humiliating.

“Y/N, you’re going to Holmes Chapel tomorrow, right?”

Y/N shot Alice a disapproving glare before telling Blake, “Harry and I were gonna go together, but something came up and he had to go without me.”

Had to. Inner Y/N rolled her eyes at the words.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Blake said, but she waved it off.

“Don’t be. Tell your grandma I said hi, okay?”

“Okay. Good luck with your writing.”

Her response was simply a dissatisfied hum. Just thinking about spending another night alone in her flat with her laptop could almost make her go insane. She could go out tonight, but she’d feel guilty because she didn’t have a reason to not write another chapter. If she was surrounded by family and friends, however...

“Blake,” she said before he could get into his car. “Can I go with you?”

When Alice dropped her jaw and Blake’s eyes went wide, she continued, “I can sit in the back. I won’t bother you.”

She'd already braced herself for rejection, knowing how much Blake hated being in a car with other people during long drives, even when he was the passenger. He relished the feeling of an adrenaline rush while riding his motorcycle, and had often joked that he’d felt most alive when he might die. Being in a car confined him. So did the company of someone else. It’d been different when they’d been a couple but they weren’t anymore. Now she was just ‘someone else’ to him.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” He flashed a grin that deepened his dimple and caught her by surprise.

“You don’t have to. I don’t want to make you feel uncomf–”

“I don’t mind driving you, Y/N. Get in.” He patted the roof of his car, and Alice aimed a pointed glare at him as if she hadn’t sighed like a schoolgirl when they shook hands.

Although Y/N understood Alice’s concern and was well aware that she would be spending three hours in the car with her ex, going with him sounded like a better idea than taking a taxi.

She hadn’t sat behind the wheel since the accident and had only let Harry drive her around. But somehow she trusted Blake. She’d trusted him with most of her first times, and being in a relationship with him for two years had convinced her that he was a careful driver.

“Y/N!”

The solitary voice caught her by surprise. She whipped around to see Niall crossing the street and stalking toward her with a bubbly grin on his face.

“Is that Niall Horan?” Alice unconsciously dug her nail into Y/N's arm, and Y/N winced as she pulled away.

“What are you doing here, Niall?”

“I had a photoshoot in this area and I thought we should hang out. You know, since we’re officially friends now.” He raked his fingers through his hair and arched his mouth when he noticed Blake. “Hey, man.”

Blake only raised his palm, saying nothing.

“This is Alice,” Y/N said as she gripped Alice’s hard shoulders. “She’s a big fan of yours, so please be nice to her.”

"Nice to meet you," Niall said. "Alice is a pretty name."

When he took Alice's hand and pressed a kiss to it, Y/N thought her friend would just pass out right in front of them. Alice might be bold with Blake, Isaac, and even Harry, but facing Niall, she suddenly forgot how to speak. Which might be a good thing because she said crazy things when she was nervous, and Y/N couldn’t handle more crazy right now.

“I’m sorry, Niall. I’m actually leaving.”

“Oh, where are you going?”

“We’re going to Holmes Chapel,” Blake answered on her behalf, still leaning against his car. He didn’t seem frustrated that she and her friends were wasting his time, and she truly wondered why.

Niall turned back to her with an eyebrow raised. “Weren’t you going with Harry tomorrow?”

“Apparently not,” she huffed. “But don’t worry. I’ll text him to let him know.”

“I can give you a ride.”

Niall pointed to the black Audi parked on the other side of the street. A man in a black suit, buzzed head, twice her size, gave them a cold stare as Niall waved and smiled at him.

“That’s Barry. He’s cool.”

She took a surprised breath, considering Barry for a quick second. “I think I’ll be fine with Blake.”

She would have agreed to go with Niall in a heartbeat, if there was just Niall, and he was driving a less luxurious vehicle. She could already imagine how badly her body would ache when they arrived, as she wouldn’t dare to move a single muscle in his new car, especially when Barry was the one who drove it.

“Okay.” Niall gave a nonchalant shrug as he fished out his phone and made a quick call. “Hey, man.” He gave the scary man across the street a peace sign. “I’ll stay with my friend. You may leave now. Thanks, Barry.”

Y/N watched Niall’s bodyguard/chauffeur get into the shiny Audi, not knowing what to expect when Niall put his phone away and switched his attention back to her.

“Let’s go.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going with you,” he said with a smirk, “and Blake.”

“Can I come, too, please?” Alice interjected as she tugged Y/N’s arm. “I’ll be quiet as a mouse, you won’t even know I’m there.”

“I’m not the one who gets to decide here, Al,” Y/N grumbled.

“Alice and Niall can join us,” Blake interfered, at last. “The more the merrier.”

When Alice started bouncing like a kid in a sweet shop, he mouthed it’s okay to Y/N, and she responded with an apologetic twitch of her lips that was meant to be a smile. If he was only acting to be polite to her friends, she’d feel so shitty.

Blake opened the door on the passenger side for her, but Niall quickly got in and buckled his seatbelt. With a sigh, she joined Alice in the backseat. Something told her that this was going to be the longest three hours she had ever experienced.

Gemma tightened her fingers around her phone. With one hand in her hair, she kept pacing back and forth in her hotel room, the beating of her heart accelerating with each ring. She hated phone calls. There was something so nerve-wracking about talking to someone and not knowing what their true reaction was. However, she knew Asher wouldn’t hold anything back.

When you’d been with someone for two years, you’d figure out their patterns. You could predict what they were going to say or do in a certain situation. And she wished it hadn’t been the case this time as what she was expecting was pretty awful.

She’d always considered Asher’s bad temper a minor flaw, but it hadn’t been easy lately. His business was going down. His dad had decided to stop pouring money into his failed ventures, which was why he’d been spending so much time with his family. He wanted to be on his father’s good side while sweet-talking his mother into helping him.

He was a mama’s boy, like Harry. The only difference was that Harry genuinely loved his family and would never blame Gemma for his own mistakes. Asher, on the other hand, took his exasperation out on her, making her feel like she’d been the cause of all of the bad things that’d happened to him in the last couple of months. She’d been walking on eggshells around him, well aware of how toxic that was, but the idea of ending a two-year relationship was too intimidating.

The ringing abruptly stopped. And so did she.

“Yes?” Asher spoke. He hadn’t heard from her in two days, and that was all she got from him. Yes?

“I have to tell you something,” she said anyway, trying to sound more composed than she looked. Perhaps a phone call was a good idea after all.

“I also have something to tell you. Can I go first?”

“Sure.” As much as she wanted to get this off her chest, the more she delayed, the more time there was to prepare herself for his reaction. She’d never seen anyone confess to their partner that they’d cheated and receive instant forgiveness, not even in movies. It definitely wouldn’t be the case for her and Asher.

“I think we should take a break.”

Her brain slowed down, unable to process that information. Her mouth opened and shut a few times like a goldfish until she could speak. “What do you mean?”

She knew exactly what a break meant. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe he’d actually proposed it, at least not before she told him about the kiss.

“I want us to stop seeing each other for a while.”

“We haven’t seen each other in weeks, Ash.”

“Come on, Gem, you know this is inevitable. We’ve been fighting constantly.” Yes. Because of him. “And I can’t remember the last time we had sex.”

“So you’re suggesting that we take a break so you could fuck other people?”

A long stretch of silence followed her question. Waves of anger splashed over her as she gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. She couldn’t believe she’d been so scared to tell him the truth, and then he’d proposed something like this without any sign of guilt.

“We both need this, Gem.”

“You’re right. We do,” she said despite the lump in her throat. “Goodbye, Ash.”

She ended the call before he could say another word and rushed to open the window. She needed some fresh air, otherwise, she might throw up.

Gripping the sides of the window frame, she took in a sharp breath. When she opened her eyes again, she saw a familiar Prius parked in front of the building. It looked like the one in Harry’s car collection, but wasn’t he in Holmes Chapel right now?

She’d gotten her answer as soon as the door was opened, and Isaac stepped out, phone in his hand. When he brought it up to his ear, her phone started buzzing, and she instantly grabbed it and tapped answer.

“Hello?”

“I’m here. Let’s go,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m driving you, remember?”

“Driving me where?”

“To Holmes Chapel.” His soft laugh melted the coldness remaining in her heart from the phone call with Asher. After an awkward pause, he said, “Oh shit, didn’t Harry tell you? He asked me to pick you up.”

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see. “I said I’d take the train.”

“You don’t have to. Your mum asked me to come for dinner and I just needed a reason to get out of town.”

Something told her Harry hadn’t asked him to pick her up, and she hated how good that made her feel.

When the thought of Asher crossed her mind, she snapped out of her fantasy. This wasn’t right. She was a hypocrite for being angry at Asher and then having butterflies thinking about her brother’s best friend. Clearly she wasn’t going to sit in a car with Isaac for three hours after what she’d done.

“Come on, Gem. We don’t have to talk about it.”

It.

He couldn’t even say the word. Her kiss must have disgusted him. She’d forced herself on him, and he was still nice enough to offer to drive her. He was only doing this because he was nice, because he was Isaac, not because he had feelings for her. Why would she want him to have feelings for her, anyway? She was still with Asher. Kind of. And she would eventually have to tell him that she’d cheated on him and then beg for his forgiveness.

Now that she thought about it, she believed she deserved this. She needed to start acting like a grown woman and dared to face what she’d done.

“Okay, give me a minute,” she told Isaac.

“All right.” A grin could be heard in his voice before the call disconnected. She sighed roughly, tucked her phone into the pocket of her jeans as she gathered essential things and quickly headed out.

When Isaac saw her walk toward him from the building, his first instinct was to shove his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, giving her a smile so courteous that it made her skin crawl. He loved giving and receiving hugs, but he didn’t do it with her anymore because she’d crossed the line.

He opened the door on the passenger side for her, and she got into his car, buckled her seatbelt as he got behind the wheel. The door was closed, muffling the traffic noise, and she could hear the pulse in her throat loud and clear.

She had to say something.

“What happened to the Range Rover?”

“Oh, this one’s Harry’s,” he said, his voice casual as he started the engine and drove back onto the street. “He lent it to Emilia so she could go to a movie audition. She asked me to return it.”

The nervousness was washed away by irritation as her face screwed up. “He lends her his cars now? Harry is anal about letting people drive his babies.”

“He did lend it to her. I asked him,” Isaac said with a shrug. “He said she’s basically family now.”

“I need to slap him when I see his stupid face.”

“And I need to watch that. Maybe film it, too,” he chuckled, eyes on the road.

She allowed a goofy smile to play on her lips, which vanished as she started to analyse what he’d said. “Did you meet Emilia today?”

“We did a photoshoot. She’s my new model.”

“Oh,” she said, unsure how she wanted that one word to sound.

Before she could dwell on the idea of him and Emilia, he broke the silence. “Harry said you’d asked him to go alone, but then you changed your mind. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She tucked a strand behind her ear, fighting the urge to look at the side of his face as they talked. “I wanted him to fix the mess that he’d started, but then I realised he was an idiot and would most likely mess things up even more.”

That wasn’t the reason. Harry was no longer the careless kid who randomly brought up Winton and made their mum cry without knowing it. He was an adult and would figure out a sensible way to talk to their mum about Winton and Emilia. So why did Gemma insist on going home?

It took a moment’s thought for her to realise she’d done this out of guilt, and maybe desperation, too. She felt bad about forcing her brother to do the hard work, and at the same time, needed the safety of her family to escape from the stress her relationship had put upon her. She wished she could tell Isaac everything, but she didn’t want to make this trip about her.

“Are you mad at me?” His question brought her back to reality. Only then did she realise they had left the city and were heading onto a country road between large green fields. “Gem, are you mad at me?”

Her heart skipped a beat as she began to fidget with her handbag on her lap. He’d promised that they wouldn’t talk about the kiss. Did he lie to get her into this car?

“No, I’m not.” She winced at how forceful that sounded.

“Are you sure?”

“You said we didn’t have to talk about it,” she snapped and stiffened in her seat when he darted a quick glance her way before focusing on the road again.

He swallowed once. “I just don’t want us to be awkward with each other, Gem.”

“You’re right.” She lowered her face and scratched the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry for what I did. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know why you did it.”

He did?

“You had a fight with your boyfriend and you were confused, right?”

“No, I–” She paused, feeling overwrought. “Why aren’t you upset? You should be angry at me.”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, you should!” She almost turned and sat upright if it wasn’t for the seatbelt holding her back. “I kissed you when you didn’t want to be kissed. You should be angry.”

“Gemma,” the sound of her name vibrated with his warm laughter, and she felt her body melting into the leather seat. “I kissed you back, so I’m equally guilty here.”

Had he kissed her back? She couldn’t recall. The comforting scent of his cologne accompanied by the shock and guilt must have dulled her senses. But if he had kissed her back, did it mean he’d wanted her, too?

“Don’t worry,” he said after stealing another glance at her. “I know you’re in a long-term relationship. And I don’t want to mess it up, so let’s pretend it never happened. I think you weren’t aware that you were kissing me. I mean, someone like you would never kiss me.”

“Someone like me?” Her gaze jumped to the side of his face. “What does that mean?”

Thinking she was offended, he awkwardly explained, “That...that was meant to be a compliment. You’re a strong and independent woman. You’re smart, beautiful, funny–”

“Pull over,” she said, her heart pounding in her ears.

A glimpse of horror crossed his face as he faltered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Pull over, Isaac.” Her voice was strained, her eyes intense. The car reached a standstill on the side of the road, and her mind was spiralling out of control as she unbuckled her seatbelt and launched herself across the gearshift. She was on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

His body was stiff as a board when he dropped his gaze to her mouth, making her wonder if he’d been thinking about her since they’d kissed. She knew she had. The memory made her lips tingle as if he’d kissed them again. She wanted him to kiss them again.

They brought their mouths together at the same time. His hands claimed her face to deepen the kiss, and euphoria shocked through her system as she kissed him harder. She fisted the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer while his hands swept down her back, squeezing her hips. In that moment, when they were alone on the empty road surrounded by windy green fields, something that was meant to be wrong, felt like the rightest thing she had ever done.

Harry had been waiting on the porch since he’d gotten the text message from Y/N. His mum had told him to wait inside, but watching the street somehow made time fly faster. Or so he hoped.

He rested his elbows on his knees, face between his palms, unconsciously tapping his right foot. He did deserve this. He’d blindsided her and now she was making him pay by going home with her ex. Fuck that lawyer kid. Who did he think he was? If there hadn’t been Niall and Alice, Harry would have driven all the way back to London to pick her up.

Twenty minutes felt like two hours as he waited, and when he spotted a car from a distance, he immediately bounced onto his feet. But it was Isaac and Gemma in his black Prius, not his Bambi.

“Wow, aren’t you excited to see me?” Gemma sneered as she stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards him.

Isaac greeted Harry with a hug, and Harry pulled away and nodded his head toward Gemma. “You didn’t have to drive her, you know. I could’ve picked her up at the station.”

Silent, Gemma thinned her lips as Isaac rubbed the back of his head. Why were they acting so awkward? Had Harry said something wrong?

“I know what’s going on here.” Harry put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes at both of them. “You’re mad at me for lending Emi my car.”

Gemma’s shoulders dipped as she let out a sigh. “Even that name irritates me.”

“Oh, come on, Gem.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, but she pushed him away. “That one is my least favourite,” he said, pointing to the Prius.

A corner of her lips quirked up as she brushed past him. “And you’re my least favourite person.”

Isaac tossed him the key and followed her, but before they made it to the porch, another car entered their street. Harry’s Bambi was here.

“My Bambi’s here!” he squealed like a little kid, making Gemma snort.

“Wait, Smiley’s here?”

“It’s weird that you still call her that, but yeah, Niall’s here, too,” he told Isaac and stalked toward the car which had pulled over in front of his house.

Niall got out first, stretching his limbs before pulling Harry in for an embrace. “You owed me, Harold.”

“I know. Thanks, mate.” Harry let go of Niall to hug Alice. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“I didn’t either, but here I am. Lovely neighbourhood!” Alice lifted her shoulders as she adjusted the strap of her bag and then lowered her voice to almost a whisper, “Niall’s single, right?”

“Al! What are you whispering about?”

Harry’s gaze jumped to Y/N, who had finished saying goodbye to Blake. When Blake saw him, the kid raised a palm and a smile which looked fake as hell, but Harry managed to keep his calm and returned one just as plastic.

Y/N walked around the car and threw herself into Harry’s arms, holding his face and kissing his lips. He held her flat against him as he kissed her harder. He could hear Niall making a gagging noise, but he didn’t care as long as he got to rub this in Blake’s face. Because he was as mature as a nine-year-old, and he was fine with it.

“Stop eating her face, pervert.”

Gemma’s comment broke him and Y/N apart. He flipped his sister off and, with a smug look on his face, watched Blake’s car drive ahead and disappear at the end of the road. A swat on the chest made his eyes jump back to Y/N.

“You’re in so much trouble, Harry.” Her nose wrinkled, and he wondered if she knew how cute she looked when she made that face. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead when Gemma took their friends into the house.

“I’m sorry, babe. Why didn’t you text me sooner?” he said with a pout. “You waited until you were almost here to tell me you were coming.” With fucking Blake.

“Well, I knew you were going to wait on the porch. Couldn’t make you wait for three hours.”

His heart fluttered as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know me so well, kid.”

“I’m still pretty mad at you,” she said. “But I do have a lot to tell you about.”

“About your book?”

She smiled and nodded. He released a relieved sigh as he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I was afraid that you’d be mad at me. The clip and everything.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I’m mad at you?”

“No.” He shook his head and pecked her lips then either corner of it. “I’m a bad boyfriend. I should’ve driven you, not your stupid ex. Thank God for Niall and Alice.”

“Niall was even worse than you,” she giggled.

He nuzzled her neck, tilting her head up to press a series of kisses to her jaw. When his hands swept from her back to her spine, she snatched his wrists and pinned them to his chest. The way she arched an eyebrow and clicked her tongue made his cock swell against the fly of his pants. When her pupils dilated, he knew she felt it, but she didn’t acknowledge it and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“I have to say hi to Marcy and Dad. I’ll come over later, kay?”

“Tell them to join us for dinner.” He tugged her arm, not letting her go just yet. “Bradford and I can bond over our hatred for Blake. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m sure he’d love to come, consider how much he loves Isaac.”

“Damn it,” he cursed when she burst out laughing and cupped his face to kiss him twice on the cheeks. With a lovesick smile, he watched her pad across her front yard and waited until she’d gone into her house to finally return to his.

His mother was so happy to have so many guests that night. She’d cooked a big meal for everyone. Even Bradford and Marcy came to join them. Just like Harry’s promise, he and Bradford had bonded over their same intense dislike for Blake Roman. Y/N had to stuff their mouths with spaghetti so they would stop talking. Alice had won Niall over with her review about the first book she’d read in her life, and now Niall was reading the first book in his life. Weird, but cute.

What was even weirder, however, was to see his sister being so close with Isaac. They’d been whispering back and forth the whole night, and not once did Gemma mention Asher. Harry didn’t like Asher that much so he didn’t mind, and it was good to see Gemma happy again. He hadn’t seen her smile that big before. His mum, too.

His heart sank to the bottom of his chest as he remembered the reason they were all here. He had to tell his mum about Winton.

She would be so disappointed. She might even cry. And this dinner, all of these jokes, all this laughter would mean nothing when she heard about Winton and Emilia. Harry hated to be the reason the women he loved cry. But if he didn’t tell his mum, and she found out herself, he’d be the shittiest son in the world. This would hurt either way, one less than the other.

Dinner was over soon. While everyone gathered in the living room for a game, Harry and Gemma volunteered to clean up. Just like when they were kids, they did something wrong and volunteered to do the housework so the chance of them being forgiven would be higher. Harry knew what he’d done wrong. He didn’t know why Gemma was here.

“They’re playing Scrabble.”

The voice made him flinch before two arms wrapped around his waist, pulling her body toward his. Y/N tiptoed to kiss his neck, and he giggled like a little boy. Gemma gave them a funny look but didn’t say a word because she, and everyone else, was already used to their public affection.

“Let’s wait until tomorrow morning,” she told Harry, and his face screwed up.

“And ruin Mum’s entire Sunday?”

“Well, would you prefer that she stay up all night?”

“I agree with Gemma, baby.” Y/N tightened her grip around his waist, resting her cheek against his back. She felt so small pressed against him like this, and since he’d gone two days without fucking, the thought of holding her up against the wall and spreading her open with his arms beneath her knees was enough to turn his balls blue. He would make that fantasy a reality if Gemma weren’t here, and they weren’t one door away from the only group of people whose opinions about them mattered.

“Okay, tomorrow then,” he said and turned on the tap to wash his hands.

“Alice will sleep with me tonight,” Y/N said. “Niall or Isaac can use our guest room.”

“I’ll sacrifice Niall. Your guest room is shit, and I love Isaac a bit more than Niall.”

She pinched his side and he jumped, but her arms forced his body still.

“I’ll let Gemma pick then,” he said.

“What?” Gemma asked, distracted.

“Isaac and Niall,” he raised a smirk. “One will have to sleep in Y/N’s shitty guest room. One stays here with us.”

“It’s not shitty,” Y/N said in a protesting tone.

“Babe, I saw a rat the last time we had se—”

She smacked a hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence. As Gemma rolled her eyes at them, he plucked Y/N’s fingers off his face and told his sister, “Go ahead. You pick.”

She opened her mouth. For a second, he thought she was going to answer, but then she released a huff and said, “I’m not doing this with you children.”

“Children?!” He dropped his jaw as she stalked out of the kitchen. Y/N dissolved into laughter as he spun around, took each of her arms and draped it over his shoulder.

A smile played on her lips, and she asked, “Do you wanna join them or go on a date with me?”

“Oooh, where is this date?”

“The cemetery.”

His face went blank for a second as she stifled a laugh. “Just kidding.” She pinched his cheeks. “I’m going to see my mum. You coming?”

“Why does it have to be now?”

“Are you coming or not?”

He was so whipped he would have gone without knowing it was the cemetery. “Fine. But if we see a ghost, I’m leaving you behind.”

She laughed and shoved him away, and they raced each other to the living room. They told everyone that they’d go out for a walk. And as he escorted her to the door, Niall and Alice started clapping and cheering, and Gemma tossed a pillow at Niall to get him to shut up.

There wasn’t a particular reason that Y/N had chosen to plan a cemetery visit at this hour. She simply enjoyed strolling around town in the night as much as Harry did. When he was a teenager, he used to bring one of his dates to the field behind his house, and they had taken long walks under the night sky and made out in his car afterward.

He’d thought it’d been the most romantic experience in his life, until two years ago, when they’d visited her mother’s grave together. That was when he’d realised the cemetery could be romantic. Everything turned romantic when he was with her.

So if she wanted to walk around a graveyard at one in the morning, he would blindly follow, no questions asked.

After finding a safe parking spot, they walked to the tall iron gate that looked like the set of a Hitchcock movie. No one had bothered to polish it since the last time they’d been here, and he guessed no one intended to anyway.

Just like the last time, she snuck through an opening in the fence to get into the cemetery, and he tagged after, his heart thumping loudly. They’d better get to share a cell if they got arrested for trespassing.

It was a little foggy at 1 AM. The air was cold and the grass was damp. They padded across a desolate lot and were careful not to get their shoes dipped into the mud. As they followed the brick pathway, he negotiated his way around the gravestones, trying to keep up because she was walking too fast, like a ghost. The thought made him shiver. Probably not the best comparison to make when they were literally in a cemetery.

After a five minute walk, they finally arrived. Her mother’s headstone stood erect, bathed in light spilt from the ashen moon. Seeing the fresh flowers on the grave, Harry assumed Bradford had just visited his wife today. Y/N had told Harry that her dad came here every week to trim the grass and clean the stone. It was nice how much things had changed since their last visit.

As she squatted down to rearrange the flowers, Harry spotted a newly dug grave nearby and pointed to it, grinning. “Your mum’s getting a new neighbour.”

Y/N put a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Don’t disrespect the dead! They’ll come for you tonight!”

He scoffed at the threat, but as a cold breeze whisked right through his clothes, he immediately cowered to her side, and she doubled over, almost choking on her own laughter.

After giving her mother updates on her book and his Oscar nomination, Y/N kissed her fingers, pressed them against the moonwashed stone and bid her mother goodbye. They followed the same path weaved around tombstones to go back to the opening between the fence. With a feeling of being watched, Harry kept looking behind him as he clung onto Y/N like she was his weapon.

“Don’t look back,” she said. “My mum is following us.”

The shadow of a smile on her lips almost got him running for his life. He swore he’d never do this with her again, knowing for a fact that he would, if she only asked.

Once they returned to their parking spot, they retrieved two cans of Coca-Cola from Y/N’s bag and lay on their backs on the bonnet of his car to watch the stars. His adrenaline from their stroll across the cemetery was finally washed away as he listened to her ranting about her new book.

He wasn’t a writer so he wasn’t qualified to give her any advice. He mostly just listened, and because he knew Y/N didn’t want people’s advice. She vent her frustrations to feel better for a while, and most likely would end up doing whatever felt right to her.

Soon the topic of work bored her out. She extended a hand toward the sky and closed her fingers around nothing as if she was grasping the stars.

“Have you read The Little Prince?”

The random question put a smile to his lips. “The book Alice and Niall couldn’t shut up about during dinner?”

“Yeah.”

He took her hand that was in the air and brought it to his mouth so he could kiss her knuckles. “I have. Why?”

“My mum read it to me when I was little,” she said. “I used to wish I’d lived on the little prince’s tiny planet. All you needed to do was move your chair a few steps and you could see the night sky whenever you liked. We could live in this same moment, over and over again.”

“And never grow older,” his voice softened, and she replied with a quiet hum.

“Wouldn’t that be great?”

He cocked his head to the side and met her softened gaze. But then a hint of worry washed out that dreamy haze, and a line appeared between her brows.

“Do you sometimes wish I was cooler?”

That was a big shift from the story of the little prince. Surprised, he squeezed her fingers gently. “What do you mean? You’re always cool.”

“I mean, cool like...like your friends cool.” She huffed in frustration as she didn’t know how to properly get her point across, but he’d already figured it out.

“You should’ve told me the clip still bothers you,” he said with a frown, and the way she pursed her lips confirmed his speculations. “Bambi…”

“We used to have a lot in common when we were kids.” Her bottom lips trembled as her breaths quickened. “Now our lives are so different. And I’m fine with it, and I know you are too because we love each other. But sometimes it feels like…” She stalled, and with no intention of finishing that sentence, dropped her gaze to her hand in his. “I wish I fit better in your life, so when people see us together they’d just accept it without questioning why.”

“Why do you care what they think, Bambi?”

She bit her bottom lip, thinking for a second. “I’m trying not to. It’s hard.”

A smile stretched his lips as he leaned in, stroked his thumb across her cheek and kissed her mouth lightly. Her lashes fluttered when he pulled away.

“The little prince has a flower, right?” he asked.

“Yes, he has a rose,” she said with a pensive expression. “The only one on his planet.”

He nodded once. “If I remember correctly, she’s a very beautiful flower. She shows off her thorns and puts on a superior attitude, but is actually a sensitive little thing and doesn’t like to expose her vulnerability.”

“Oh no, I’m the flower,” she gasped, making him chuckle.

He brushed her hair out of her face and went on, “When the prince comes to the earth, he finds himself in a garden with hundreds of roses, all as gorgeous as the one he loves.”

She continued for him, “But he still thinks his rose is unique and more important than all of the other roses together.”

“Yes.” He propped himself up on an elbow to lie on his side. “And why is that?”

“Because he loves her, and he knows she loves him, too,” she said while caressing his face with the back of her hand.

“That’s right.” He nodded again. “Most people think the prince is stupid for travelling from planet to planet for a rose, but he doesn’t care what they think. No matter where he is, he always thinks about his little flower. He fell in love with her when he was little and has spent his whole life watering and caring for her. Love comes from investing in other people, isn’t it?”

Her smile widened as she combed her fingers through his hair, and her cheeks bloomed with colours when she drew him in and kissed him deeply. He melted from the intensity of her lips as his hands smoothed down her arm, squeezed her behind, and pulled her as close as he could. The hardness of his body against her softness. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. The butterflies in his stomach. He was spiralling out of control.

“I’m crazy about you,” he muttered against her lips and threaded his fingers in her locks. “I don’t care how different we are. When I first said I love you, I promised I’d stay. So I’m yours as long as you still want me, Bambi.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his cheek. “I want you forever. Can you handle that?”

He drew her closer, and their bodies came flush together. “Forever and ever, baby,” he said before kissing her again.

#my girl series

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years ago

Text

Every Breath I (Can't) Take.

Sam doesn't come out of his room all night.

Dean waits till it's night, then goes out. He contemplates checking on him another time when he's back, this time with food, but it's the lack of sound through Sam's door which makes him change his mind. Maybe his brother had fallen asleep. And Dean definitely wanted him to rest. Kid needed it, deserved it - really fucking earned it.

So instead, he has dinner by himself, forcing himself to not think about any of it. The deafening silence provokes every bit of emotion he's felt that day to roar back to life. But he shoves them down, follows it with food, and buries it there with alcohol.

When he's finished, he can't bother clearing up. His limbs feel like they'll drop off. He's been on patrol most nights, and the mornings were used up trying to figure out solutions. He's done, and tired, and ready to pass out.

So he picks up his beer - huh, that's far too empty; so then he drains it in a single gulp, and picks up the entire sixpack, and goes to his room.

And that's that. He's managed to make it through the first night.

He doesn't know how he manages to fall asleep. He's almost sure he won't be able to, until his head hits the pillow, his back settles in the warm mattress and his feet stretch. He still doesn't think he'll sleep that night - but it's soon that he's completely knocked out.

It's a dreamless slumber though, and he wakes to the world, one eye blinked open at a time - a tired shell of a man; the weight of his losses just beginning to settle.

He gets up.

And tells himself that had he kept lying, horizontal, the pain would just have sedimented at the bottom, and that's just where Dean always was anyways. He'd have gotten crushed under the densing pressure.

So instead, he makes himself stop thinking again, and showers.

When Dean drags himself into the kitchen, his head painfully points out that Cas isn't there. Before, he used to be right there, with a cup of coffee on the days Dean was lucky, waiting to ask him how he’d slept.

(When Dean misses Cas, he always misses this version of him, who lived in the bunker and truly lived there too. Back then, Dean could breathe him in the sheets, find him in front of every shelf in the library, and hear him in all the hallways. He used to be so present. Good fucking times.)

Dean's eyes involuntarily swept the place. As if Cas had snuck back in at night, and might be perched in a particularly camouflaged nook, waiting for Dean to notice.

As if he was ever coming back.

Dean swallowed. Hard. The thoughts he'd fought so hard to keep away were all pushing their way back in. The longer he twitched at Cas's absence. His chest started to constrict.

Gone was the sleep-roughened voice, though he didn't fucking sleep - still so gentle when it addressed him with a 'good morning, Dean'. Missing were the blue, blue eyes which followed Dean as he cluttered around the space to make them both breakfast. No longer, did Dean get to accidentally brush against Cas's shoulder in his hustle - and receive an upturned smile through his eyelashes, when he landed across Cas with his plate full.

Maybe Dean imagines it, but he thinks he swayed on his feet a little bit. And reaches for the counter, just to be sure.

Maybe he's still drunk.

Cas had walked out. And taken with him, all of himself. The talkative smile had disappeared; so soft, enthralling and oh, so contagious.

And then, dawned the earth-shattering realization that Cas was not. Here. Anymore.

Cas used to disappear during the day, angelic errands and noble mercies and whatnot; and Dean ate out at motels and clubs, most nights - but this was a morning. Mornings were what they used to have.

And the fact that Cas wasn't here anymore - that he'd left Dean, left him with that piercing speech, and those flashing eyes, and the finality in the air. And he'd not let it strike him yet - so it struck the hardest yet.

Cas has been wrenched away from him many times. There's been apocalypses, there's been betrayals and there's been the good of the world.

But it's only ever been a compulsion. Cas had to go. It had to happen. The World must be saved, God needed to be found, Lucifer had got to be beaten. And Castiel, hero that he was, such a goddamn courageous sonuvabitch - had to go! It was undeterrable, and Dean had always struggled to let him go - but at least, at the very least, it had always been demanded, all those times.

This time? It had been a choice.

And the selfishness he didn't know he'd been masking, roared in his ears; it was never fine to be away from Cas. But it had still been something Dean was used to, it was relatively okay if the reasons were unstoppable. If it was inevitable. But, this was different.

Dean grabs onto the slab tighter, because his knees feels weak. He needed to get a hold on himself. His head reels, but it isn't like he can stop thinking. One painful thought shoved the last out of the way, and each stream of scenes seemed to take him farther away from the present.

Cas had walked out.

Dean couldn't get him back and pull him home. Not if he wasn't being dragged away in the first place. And that's the crux, isn't it? Some part of sneered. He wasn't being taken away. He had decided to leave.

Dean Winchester had always screwed things up, messed up his life, and almost broke the world a couple of times - but Castiel had never left.

He'd lifted him from his road to corruption. He'd threatened to stay when Dean had the Mark of Cain. He'd refused to let go till the demon in him had been controlled.

And now, he was gone.

Dean's eyes sting, so he screws them shut, and his mouth is dry. He's been clutching onto the counter for a while now, and his knuckles are white now. He's heaving with every breath.

Cas was gone.

Suddenly, it was all that mattered.

Or perhaps, it was all that had ever really mattered, and all that would ever really matter.

But he was gone, and he was done with Dean, and Dean had driven him off, and he wasn't coming back. No, of course he wasn't, because he was moving on - he was moving on from Dean.

Dean's panting now. He has no idea why. He can't stop thinking - about anything, about everything, about nothing at all. He wishes he could. No, this was hyperventilating.

How could Dean ever have told him that there was no moving on for him. From what Cas meant to Dean, and the magnitude of e everything he took up in Dean's life - there wasn't any filling that, not with anything else.

He hadn't said any of it. He'd said absolutely nothing at all. And he should've. Because a Chrysler-shaped piece of his life had been ripped away, and Cas had walked out of the bunker and not looked back. And Dean could never move on from the way he'd looked at Dean - like he wanted Dean to stop him, but didn't believe that he would. Dean could never move on from any of it, at all.

Dean's chest hurts. His lungs fight for air, but his senses don't comply. He can't breathe, and he feels like he might choke.

Cas. Cas! Cas had left him. Cas wouldn't be back! Cas was gone. Cas was -

There are tears streaming down his face.

How had he let this happen? How did he not even move? Cas had been in front of him, why hadn't he been able to stop him then? How had he pushed him away so far, that Cas forgot how much Dean needed him to come back? How could he have -

Dean was a fucking asshole. He'd been a goddamn jackass. Cas should hate him. Cas did hate him. Cas needed to come back, but Dean deserved this, and yet -

"Ahh!" He growls, trying to make himself stop. He's trembling, his face is burning up, the tears won't stop. He needs to stop thinking, about Cas, about everything -

Cas doesn't want anything to do with him, anymore. Dean won't ever get to see those eyes again. Make him laugh. Fight by his side. Clink his beer to his, or make fun of his tastes in movies. Dean wasn't going to get any more of Cas.

Because Cas was moving on. He had upped, and gathered all of himself, and walked out of Dean's life. But he'd forgotten to take with him the pieces which were studded in Dean's soul, the wisps of grace that had flowed through Dean's veins since Hell had happened, and all the love that Dean had collected for Cas in his heart.

Dean gasps, struggling. He's sweating profusely, and he might have fallen if he hadn't been holding onto the slab. "AHHH!"

The last sound is wrenched from his gut, as Dean's hands give up on him, and he stumbles. He reaches out to catch hold of something, anything - his head spirals, he knows he's going to fall -

"Dean?"

Dean turns wildly at the voice, hoping in his state of desperation that it's -

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam runs towards him, his eyes wide with concern. "Fuck, Dean, what happened? Calm down!" His hands held Dean up, almost bringing him into a hug - or maybe that was Dean who was doing that. "You're having a panic attack, Dean! Sit down! What's happening? What do you need? Say something!"

"Sam." Dean lets his weight fall on Sam, but it still felt like all of the guilt never stops pushing down on him. His voice shivers, just as he does, as he looks at his younger brother, who looks frenzied at his state. Had Dean seen himself, he wouldn't have been particularly reassured, either.

"It's Cas." His voice cracks, and Sam swears under his breath, probably assuming the worst. And then Dean tells him. "Sammy, Cas left."

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s0ftylucas · 4 years ago

Text

𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕠𝕪 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 | 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕔 𝕤𝕠𝕙𝕟 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

——————————————————————————

Walking down the hallway in the school with your best friend Taeyong like normal, everyone looked at you and turn their face away from you, because you were close with the most popular guy in school.

It was a normal thing for you, You were always quiet towards other people but you were always talkative with Taeyong you told him everything. You would roll your eyes and ignore the other kids whenever they started rumors about you. While opening your locker to get your books you saw another figure come up to you.

turning your head to see the figure, it was sangyeon The nice, quiet, suspicious kid. You've talked to him a couple of times, but you weren't close with him like you were with Taeyong.

"Hey y/n, I was wondering if you want to hang out during lunch and study together" he asked.

You were confused. You don't really hang out with anyone besides Taeyong, Euni, and Mei. And the fact that sangyeon just came up to you and asked you was weird.

"umm.. sure..." He then smiled and nodded and walked away fading out of your sight to another hall where his class was.

Little did you know, Eric Sohn, The Playboy of the school was watching near and was angry.

You ignored it and grabbed your books and headed to your history class, which you had with Mei and Euni.

{Time skip to Lunch time}

The bell rang and it meant it was lunch time already. You walked out of class and then saw sangyeon waiting outside. Walking closer to him, he grabbed your wrist to stop you from walking further.

"let's head to the library now" he suggested

" I didn't even get my lunch yet" You set an a cool tone. It was so awkward and the fact that he was grabbing your wrist made it more uncomfortable, but you didn't show it in your face.

"don't worry, I brought lots of snacks and some sandwiches for both of us" Did he planned this already. How does he have so much food for the both of us???

He then started to lead you to the library But only for you to yank your hand away from him. He turned your your action and made a curious face.

"There's no need to touch my wrist anymore. I'll just follow you from here"

He was about to say something to you, but you cut him off By walking away towards the library. "Why is sangyeon so weird" you thought to yourself.

{in the library}

Finding a table to sit at, you sat down and pulled out your books. Sangyeon did the same thing, but was sitting in the chair next to you.

"um Sangyeon, can you sit across from me since I want more space" you asked

He nodded and got up to sit across from you. He got out all of the snacks and sandwiches.

"Hurry and eat, they don't allow food in here" he said whispering

"that's why we should've went to the cafeteria and ate" you thought to yourself being annoyed.

You ate and studied with him even though he kept talking and bugging you every second, you got used to it.

While studying, A figure came up to the both of you guys, Eric Sohn.

"Y/n can I talk to you for a bit" he said sternly

You looked at Eric confused and you can see Eric's face was furious.

"you can tell me right here, no need for me to get up"

"No this is private, I don't want that guy to hear our convo"

You rolled your eyes and proceed to get up and follow him. He leaded the way while you were behind him following him like a minion. He then stopped and you stopped at his actions.

He turned around facing you and then spoke.

"Stop hanging out with that Sangyeon guy"

"and why should I listen to you? Why did you even follow us here in the first place" you scoffed.

"look, he isn't what he looks like. if I told you, you wouldn't even believe me"

"This is confusing. Either you tell me a reason or I'll leave"

He let out a sigh. You could tell that it would be a long explanation.

"hurry and spit it out"

"Basically, Sangyeon is not the nerd and the nice guy you think he is. He's friends with my ex best friend Sunwoo. Though he is smart and nice at school, he is a totally different person outside of school. He drinks, smokes, plays with girls like their an object, he's a very mean and cold person."

You stood there trying to process everything he said. "Sangyeon is a bad person, and is not sweet like he seems he is" no wonder he's so weird today. He's so unusual.

"I know you might not believe me, but I over heard the conversation he had with Sunwoo and apparently your the next girl he wants to play with"

You let out a scoff and was pissed on what you just heard from Eric. who does Sangyeon think he is, thinking that he's going to get with me now. How dumb is he.

"Thanks for telling me Eric" you let out a faint smile

"Hey, let's just leave him there alone, and go to the school rooftop and chill there. He's going to get mad when he notices that you aren't there"

"Let's go then"

"Y/n- what took you so long" you turned and saw sangyeon now at the scene.

He then grabbed your wrist to leave. "Let's go back to study"

Eric seem to have noticed how disgusted you were from sangyeons touch and Eric grabbed you by your arm to keep sangyeon from touching you.

"She doesn't wanna go with you, so stop touching her.."

his face then turned evil, looking like he wanted to kill Eric.

"Stop interfering with me and y/n. I asked her out to study first and - "

"Stop sangyeon. I don't want to hang out with a disgusting person like you. I'm not a toy you can just play with. I now see what kinda person you are, so please just stay away from me"

You then left the two boys at the scene as you were walking away with disbelief.

As you were walking towards the cafeteria, You heard so much about your name from behind you. you then turned around it was Eric again.

"He won't disturb you anymore" he said trying to catch his breath Since he was running to you after the whole scene.

"Thanks, but why were you even helping me. Don't you have other girls to worry about?"

"Seeing you with sangyeon doesn't make me feel good" he said coldly changing his tone.

"Ahhh... why? were you jealous?" You said only joking.

"Yea I was, I hope that isn't a problem"

You were frozen shocked at what he had just said.

"He was jealous of me and sangyeon" he has to be playing around right now... right?

"y/n, I was jealous because I like you"

"What.. me?" You said pointing at yourself.

"Yes, you, the person in front of my face. I'll give you time to think about it. I'm going now. See you later.." he said while waving and walking away.

—————————————————————————

#the boyz #eric sohn #imagine #kpopimagine #sunwoo #scenarios #sangyeon

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katherine1753 · 5 years ago

Note

1, 2, 13 for Childermass' Promise? :D (which I have not read yet but it's open in another tab and I'm much looking forward to it!)

Ahhh thank you, I hope you like it!

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I had a lot of fun with my previous Johnsquared fic and I kept hinting at something more/future encounters/etc and then I decided I should just actually write it. I wanted to continue where I left off, Segundus all happy/blushing/excited and then transition to Childermass’s side of things! Andddddd I wanted to write more smut. So. Three chapters of that are happening hahaha

2: What scene did you first put down?

I tend to write mostly in order, skipping ahead if I need to and coming back to it later or adding more as I read through, so I started with Segundus’s bit in the library, specifically his wondering on how to proposition Childermass

I also made a note in my outline about the flowers/petals/forest-y bed, I wanted that bit to be nice :)

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I answered what I listened to, but for readers hmmmm something lighter and not too distracting, just to be in the background

I listened to these while writing a good chunk of it, just softly in the background

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoKqKjTUMw0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqK33rQfjEA&t=490s

I’m still trying to figure out something good to listen to while I’m writing the smuttier bits...

0 notes

fallingin-like · 5 years ago

Text

november 2

andriel into the future (series) by @dustbottle

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

these are some wonderfully written post-canon fics that make you feel warm and safe. we get to see neil and andrew’s relationship grow and strengthen. there’s neil’s year at psu without andrew, a minyard-josten rivalry fic, just some good times, coming out, and cats! there are 5 fics in this series.

missing you (is all i am)

i feel like this whole series is so iconic, and i understand why. it’s really well written and is just such soft content. as much as it’s fun to read the many au’s that are out there, it’s nice to come back and have some comforting post-canon that wraps you up like a blanket because you know andrew and neil are just out there living their life together.

parts i really liked:

”tension scraping at the back of his throat and humming distractingly under his skin. the quiet of his empty apartment… is pressing in on him from all sides, treacherous and thickly oppressive.” i really like the description that you use so well. i can imagine how this feels, you’ve put to words something that i have only ever experienced before

that the exy highlight is literally just neil. andrew is so far gone ahhh

”in neil’s absence, andrew feels strangely untethered, smaller and emptier and less somehow than he has in years.” i just really like the words you used, it is so right

that when andrew finally sees neil looking bad and immediately looks for an injury or something, it reminds me that andrew doesn’t realise how much neil missed andrew. during the novels we saw everything from neil’s perspective and it can seem like andrew is just an anchor, so it’s nice to understand that andrew, like everyone, is uncertain and unsure and new to this whole relationship thing too. i find it’s easy to forget because andrew always seems so decisive and confident, that he’s never done anything like this, let himself be so vulnerable, given parts of himself away to other people like this.

”he bleeds raw emotion all over the place even as he fights to keep it contained.” i love the imagery here

“neil says, and smiles; a dismantled gun; a knife wrapped in lace.” yes!

”’because it’s the truth,’ neil tells, trusting and honest and harsh, and just like that, the resistance breaks apart.” this feels so fitting, because truth is such a huge part of the foundation of this relationship.

minyard-josten: a rivalry for the ages

i think like most people in the fandom, rivalry!au’s are so so fun to read. there’s something fun about being in on a secret, especially since in these fics, it’s not necessarily a secret, people just are oblivious.

parts/things i especially enjoyed:

West! not going to lie, he actually kind of reminds me of someone i know (named Wes) who fits this character. the guy i know is really nice and chill, but has serious muscle, a bunch of tattoos, and always looks super cool which is how i picture Wes. and i like when this type of character feels awkward, it endears me to them a little bit more

great to hear of the bonding between neil and his new teammates! i imagine it must have been tough for him at first, he has to adjust because the foxes were his first team, but also his first family and that’s something you can’t just move on from.

”…[matt] keeps an impressively straight face, commenting that andrew and neil have always had a ‘unique relationship’…” i LOVE when the foxes play up the rivalry with increasingly ambiguous and wild comments. i mean they’re not wrong?? they’re just purposely misleading the public and i am here for it!

”kevin catgeorically refuses to talk about anything not strictly exy-related; when pressed, he stiffly remarks that their teamwork had never been a problem.” of course kevin tries to stay out of it. he must be preparing such a long lecture for the next time he sees andrew and neil.

the bit where neil scores on andrew and andrew grabs his helmet. they’re sO cute!! i can only imagine that it must be so rewarding for neil to be able to read andrew so well because it shows him that 1. how he is affecting andrew and making him feel things and 2. allowing himself to have a strong enough relationship with someone to recognize all these small quirks, etc.

”as he watches the other team celebrate their win, with andrew a speck of calm indifference in their midst” something about the imagery of andrew being this calm in the chaos. i think that’s such a big part of their relationship. neil knows that no matter what, andrew will be there for him, his rock, something stable when everything else is crazy.

you did a really great job transitioning between all these scenes in such a short amount of time. going from the intensity of the game to the quiet of the changeroom, moving from having their teams and the crowd around them to being alone. there’s this distance between them when they’re on court, but when they’re alone? they’re free to be themselves and it’s so interesting to see how different and similar it is to how they normally act. andrew shows his affection in all the little gestures and neil is able to catch all of them where other people just see the blank mask still.

the self i am

the parts i really enjoyed:

something you don’t quite emphasize, but the fact that they’re driving home. it’s clear that since they’ve been driving for such a long time, it would make more sense to fly, but it’s cute that they don’t. first, it shows just another way that neil takes andrew’s preference into consideration. second, it gives them time to spend together! even though they’re about to have a few days alone in the columbia house, there’s definitely something different and intimate about being in a car with someone for hours. there’s nowhere else to go and no way to reduce the time that you’re together (because i’m sure that andrew was speeding anyway)

andrew not smoking around daisy. although i do think that neil has softened some of andrew’s edges, i do think that andrew would be more considerate towards children than adults/teens. he knows too well how vulnerable they are and even if he doesn’t enjoy spending time with them, i believe he would do the small things like not smoke around them, or share his candy with them.

”progress is slow and not always linear, but it is there” sometimes this can be easy to forget, but that doesn’t make it less true.

all the ways that andriel should have been obvious to the public but they were too oblivious to know (perfect format of a 5+1 if people still did that HAH you know what maybe there is one like that out there and i just can’t recall it at this moment)

”’i’ll think about it,’ he says, and it would have been a dismissal from anyone else, but from andrew it’s a promise.” i like this because it shows that andrew won’t commit to doing something if he’s still unsure about it. he still takes his word very seriously and doesn’t want to give neil false hope.

oh double fudge ice cream sounds GOOD

”winter sunlight bathes andrew in watery gold, lending his pale hair an almost ethereal glow, and neil feels, with a fierceness that surprises even himself.” i love the imagery you use in this. watery gold? yeS.

th e kiss!!! yeahhh

”kevin is staring stoically ahead, either resigned to his fate or possibly sleeping with his eyes open” I LOVE KEVIN DAY (and also the way you wrote this. so funny)

woohoo! acknowledgement that even though neil is mostly soft, he is also a knife boy and could cut you if he wanted *insert knife emoji*

i can imagine the headlines MINYARD-DAY RIVALRY?

bless the foxes and their reactions. they’re exactly what i would expect.

neil asking if andrew wants him to sleep on the couch!! so considerate! these boys!!

i wanted to say that i like that this fic didn’t just end with the kiss, in fact that’s the middle of the fic. the fall-out/reaction of the public is definitely some of the more interesting parts, and the scenes where andrew and neil are likely dealing with the most stress

a battle, a war, a growing up

things i really liked:

hearing about andrew’s childhood! i think the idea of andrew reading harry potter is pretty fitting too, i imagine that it would be something easy to come across and that he would be the type to try and spend time at the library, either a public one or with school

acknowledgement of andrew missing neil, it must be hard for him, after trying to pretend he is independent for so long

”andrew’s mind is flat with the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from beating himself bloody against the constraints of his own spiralling thoughts.” i feel this.

that andrew is still in contact with bee! and he still comes and talks to her about the big decisions he is making in his life. i think that it’s great to see how much he trusts her and wants to share himself with her, she’s probably the second adult he has been able to do so with (first being wymack).

”you have been taking care of people for years, andrew… this is not so different when you think about it.” YES THIS IS GOOD

i like the idea of andrew picking out two cats at once, of the cats being brothers and keeping them together

the first time that king sits in andrew’s lap is so soft

”there are no more sharp edges to the way he feels about neil; there is only trust, hard-won but utterly true” ugH this is so good! their relationship started as only sharp edges and things that they could cut with, it’s so great to see how time has worn them softer and allowed them to grow and live and want and love

sir! allowing! pets! bless this moment forever

YES NEIL. YOU ROAST THAT REPORTER!!!

oh dang, i forgot that andrew being sick would likely be so similar to withdrawal that it would trigger him. i think i read a fic that explored this but i cannot for the life of me remember what it was called.

”bee picks up on the first ring, just like she always does, and andrew finally exhales.” i just really like the wording that you used, it feels so right

neil and his bandana strikes again, stealing andrew’s heart (and mine)

so nice to see aaron and andrew getting along!! i do believe that post-canon they work things out like this. they’re still rough around the edges, i think that’s how most siblings are, but they have come to an understanding that they won’t always understand each other but that doesn’t mean they won’t always support each other.

also? i just relate to this fic because i really really want a cat. this just made me want a cat more. they’re such a perfect addition to the life that andrew and neil have.

i think this whole series was lovely. the writing is really easy to read and i love seeing the progression of neil and andrew’s relationship, both with each other and the rest of the world. you have great characterization and i like the direction you took with all of these fics. it was really nice to see glimpses of their life in this last fic and it’s so nice to hear everything from andrew’s thoughts. he’s a character that keeps so much on the inside that it’s great to be able to explore what’s really going on inside of his head and see how he reacts to everything inwardly and his process filtering these reactions. this was so nice to read again, and i’d love to read any more additions to this series!!

#andriel into the future #aftg fic review #raelle writes

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lizzybeth1986 · 6 years ago

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Hey, it's the Kiara Deserves Better™ anon! I haven't had the chance to finish it until recently. Your essay was great as always and highlighted why I'm so frustrated with how they've written Kiara. I'm tempted to ask you for another essay, but I'm not sure what to ask for xD. But I figured since you've written so much for me already, I thought I'd share about me: I want to replay and do Hana's route because she deserves better as always, so are there any diamond choices you would *not* pick?

Ahhh yes! I remember you xD I'm always happy to churn out essays as long as I know what I'm talking about 😅😅 I'm glad we agree about how frustrating (and downright disgushing) the treatment for Kiara was. I can't promise to do entire essays on her BUT I sure am planning some fanfic prominently featuring her and Hana 😃 I'm just in two minds because either I'll need to wait until TRH QTs are over or I'll need to abandon my QTs altogether. But I have loads of ideas and I'm impatient to start!!

Okay soooo...which Hana scenes wouldn't I pick? I think that depends on what kind of diamond content you wouldn't like, but rn I'll go with the ones I feel have least value in terms of actually getting to know her.

A lot of the times my problem is that you can tell when they wrote a scene clearly so you could gain advantages, rather than anything related to Hana herself. In such scenes she is not important - how the MC can use her (and at least on one occasion steal credit for Hana's creativity) is. Which bleeds into my overall problem with the canon Hana and MC dynamic (friendship or romantic) itself. Like, when you have to aggressively rewrite whole parts of canon in your fanfic to make your MC seem like a better friend at least...you know there is something wrong.

Book 1: Most of the scenes are top level! Cordonian Waltz...Piano Scene...Yacht scene...Her Confession Scene...Her Finale Scene...all very beautiful and very unique and they all explored different facets of her character. Like even the ones that are about skill or give perks have space for HER personally!

Perhaps some of the scenes in Applewood you can skip, but that would mean you won't get much time to interact with her on closer level there. The pie baking contest is really more about the special touches Hana adds to the pie (like the decoration and additional instructions), but I think you can win the contest for free as well! Buying the Derby champion horse also unlocks an extra scene where she teaches you dressage moves but a lot of the personal stuff she tells you is mostly free content. So on a more personal level (and if you don't mind Hana winning the horse race at Fox Hunt 😁) it doesn't exactly count for much and you can maybe give it a miss.

Book 2: Oof. Terrible mostly. I won't deny you'll find a few gems (Patisserie scene...Library scene...Proposal scene 😍😍😍 Even the McDermots scene is pretty good, besides that one dialogue option where they make Hana call Shanghai "ancient" 🙄). One of the worst ever Hana scenes comes from this book.

Hot Chocolate Scene: Okay so on it's own it's actually a nice scene! It involves genuine personal time with Hana where you ask her questions and show concern...and that gets harder to come by later on in the series. BUT the part that makes this so awful is that this scene should have been where we saw the flashback, not Drake's. In fact the scenes should have been reversed. Drake had no authority talking about something that involved Hana esp when Hana herself never gets the opportunity to use this fact (that Liam brought her back, not Madeleine) to her advantage. So yeah. This scene is good coz you know a little more about her family but awful coz she was robbed of the chance to talk about how she REALLY returned.

PARIS RUNWAY: I put this in caps and italics and red letters because it is the worst scene in the history of this series!!!! Like ever. Where do I even begin with the PROBLEMS in this one.

First, this is not a Hana scene. It's a Penelope scene with a Hana kiss tacked on at the end, for convenience. I bought the scene in my fail playthrough and didn't include Penelope and you could really feel the difference.

Second, like...you know how wearing the Snow Bunny outfit in Book 1 unlocks the Drake Meteor Shower scene, right? They could have easily used that kind of coding here. Buy the outfit and you unlock the chance to model. You know what happens if you don't buy it and buy the Hana scene? The audience applauds you for going on stage in a tank top and jeans. In Paris. It doesn't make any fucking sense!

Third, this particular chapter has diamond scenes for all three LIs. Liam gets to take the MC to the Eiffel Tower and talk about his father as a King and his vision for Cordonia, Drake gets an emotional reunion with his sister. Hana gets...this. A scene that doesn't even give HER importance coz no, kissing Penelope's ass is more important. Hana got bullied the previous night and Madeleine lied through her teeth about her motives the next day (by option) but no, the girl who secretly dragged our reputation through the mud is more important.

Fourth, the scene preceding this one was a group scene masquerading as a "Comfort Hana!" scene. That scene basically focused on anyone who wasn't Hana (including Olivia btw)

The other scenes are fine (following this is patisserie scene and library scene, my favourites in this book), and the Champagne scene is okay, but ultimately it's a decent scene that views the upcoming trip to NY as more important, and there is very little on Hana herself. When you think of that in the context of Hana having very little attention to herself in her own home, and the fact that in the next chapter she is NOT THERE...it's not great. But you can still purchase it because nothing can ever be as bad as the Paris Runway scene.

Book 3: Okay so in this book your scenes are split between "character" and "LI" scenes. The first you will get no matter who you are marrying, coz it's supposed to be about their issues or things only they can specifically impart to you. The second will be exclusively romantic scenes with your LIs.

Character Development Scenes: Hana has three and none of them are good at all. The team took laziness to a whole other level in this book. The Polo scene gives you extra perks at the game in Portavira, but there are very few variations between the "friend" version of this scene and the "LI" versions. Like when Hana has questions about her future the MC - whether she is marrying Hana or not - can claim (optionally) that Hana could be a "professional best friend" (to this day I don't understand why they couldn't replace that option with "Duchess" in Hana's playthrough). The scene where they get Hana's traditional handmade outfit was supposed to be the culmination of Hana's arc but it was awfully executed but the big downside to NOT buying it is that Hana never gets to wear that lovely outfit again (except for a brief time during the wedding). I would have called this the worst scene if Paris Runway didn't take that title and run with it. The Snow Angel scene is Lythikos is...okay, I guess? At least it's about her and not how the MC can best use her.

Again, in the case of both Polo scene and Snow Angel - the scenes are decent, but in both those chapters they're pitted against Drake scenes where you can see the difference in effort!! You can tell Hana's scenes were a real quickie, and devoid of any care or love from the writer for that character.

LI scenes: Thankfully you get better LI scenes for her in plenty. I'd avoid the one in the bathtub in Chapter 2. It's not very well written and the LIs all sounded like each other. This was originally a problem in the Applewood spa scene too but I think they changed it here and there. The rest of the LI scenes were pretty fantastic Hana wise. Some of them even delved a little into the aftereffects of her upbringing...which they never ever brought up again.

Honorary Mention: Hana's Gift. Coz every other LI gets beautiful gifts that are unique to them but for Hana the MC grabs a...telescope and slaps a Hallmark card message to it.

But the thing is that perhaps your criteria for what scenes would be good or not would be vastly different from mine, so do keep that in mind when you're choosing. A good way to gauge would be to maybe take a look at a particular scene on YouTube just to confirm.

Hope this helped!!

#ask me #ask lizzy #hana lee #the royal romance #long post #anonymous #courtly ladies anon

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sanammma · 7 years ago

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Ten Years Gone - Chapter 3

I’m so sorry for taking SOOOOOO long. I hope it’s worth the wait. As always, special thanks for @callmethehunter for taking a look at it. Also, this is my first time trying to write actual smut so.. please don’t judge and enjoy XD. The scene is near the end of the chapter if you wanna skip it.

NSFW..

19th July 1965

The sun was already high in the sky when Madeline slowly opened her eyes and squinted. She turned away from the dull rays of sunshine. Snoring, Gina was still in a deep slumber, her brown locks of hair were scattered across her rough pillow. Madeline’s body ached from sleeping on the cheap mattress yet Gina seemed fine to her even though she was sleeping on the wooden floor. Maddie was jealous of how her cousin was able to live a happy simple life with very little resources. During her visits, she often felt needy and spoiled but it wasn’t Gina who made her feel that way, she just felt annoying to the family. Nevertheless, Gina could always convince her to come over no matter how determined Maddie was to never visit again. She sighed as she remembered that iit washer last day in Kidderminster. She wasn’t so sure about how she felt, she felt partly happy to return to her normal life in London but she was also disappointed with the boy she dreamt so much about.

Robert had been taking her on dates for two weeks but she didn’t seem to be very satisfied. She wondered if it was her fault, if she was the one who rhad unrealistic expectations. , She wanted an adventure, something extraordinary and all she got was lame, awkward, very normal dates. On the first date, he picked her up from her aunt’s house and they walked together to the library where they met. Together, they sat through a very bad literary night. A Poet after a poet, they weren’t well prepared for the night and it showed clearly on their faces and body language. Robert barely listened to a word, he kept his eyes on Madeline, studying her features. She was too much a critic to just enjoy his company, she took notes and tried to point out weaknesses. She was not pretending to be smart, but it was undeniable that she loved the attention. After that, they had dinner in a restaurant and that was the equivalent of somebody trying too hard. As they were eating, their conversations, annoyingly, revolved around their families rather than each other. She knew that it was unlikely for the first date to be significantly special, it just really bothered her that he was not able to prove her wrong. She was hoping to live a romantic, fictitious story and she was shocked by the boring reality.

The second and the third dates were terribly similar to their first one. Hours of shallow conversations did not go exactly well for both of them, and when it was time for the fourth date, they weren’t particularly excited.

That morning, the thought of standing him up was slightly appealing to her but when she told her cousin about what she was thinking, Gina talked some sense into her. She convinced her that she was still able to turn things around, to add a twist to her story. Maddie didn’t really believe that she could do that, she was a fan of giving up as soon as things got out of her comfort zone, she was scared of stepping out of it while she knew that the best memories she had were when she took that terrifying step.

Under the heat of the sun, Gina took the city girl from one shop to another to buy cheap swimsuits and sweet sundresses. As the heat faded away, the two girls were practically running back home. Madeline quickly looked up at the colourful sky as they waited for a car to pass, the sun granting her back the charm that she had come to the town with, while it slowly disappeared under the horizon.

In the worn out, wooden attic-room, Maddie put on a floral off-white sundress and matched it with flat sandals. She heard the doorbell as Gina put some makeup on her, immediately cursing Robert for being so punctual

“Wait, I’ll invite him in and I’ll come up and finish-“The cousin said with a hurry before Madeline interrupted her.

“No no no, I’ll just –“ she grabbed a tissue and wiped away her half-finished makeup “How ugly do I look?” She grinned, raising her eyebrows.

Gina hid her face with her hands in disappointment and let out a tired sigh “ God!! Ahhh, Maddie, I hate you”

“I’ll get it!!” Maddie shouted to her aunt who was waiting for a chance to meet that library boy that was the centre of every recent conversation. “How ugly do I look?” She repeated to her cousin.

“Bearable” Gina said with a smirk that showed a hint of admiration.

“Good enough, now honey, wish me luck” Madeline kissed her cousin on the cheek. Grabbing her bag, she quickly ran downstairs to meet her date who was still at door. Almost breathless, she opened the door with a smile, her hair braided to the side. He was crouching as he waited for her, his golden curls falling forward on his face, fondling the petals of a flower that rested near the flowerpot they kept in the front porch. Robert quickly stood up when he saw his date. Gazing at her, lost, he scratched his head.

“Hi, there! I.. uhhh.. I’ve always wanted to grow this kind of flowers on our porch.. my mother .. she never really liked them” he stuttered.

“ What kind of mother likes the same things as her 17 year-olds, I’m not really surprised..” She paused, “But I find it strange that your mother isn’t just happy to see you running after flowers and not .. y’know.. whatever 17 year-olds like these days” Madeline said with a shy chuckle.

“She’d always wanted me to have an actual job, you know.. go to the city .. become a businessman or something.. well.. I definitely can’t see that happening..” he laughed as a dimple appeared on his cheek

Grinning, Maddie said goodbye to her, father and aunt who were too busy with conversation, and closed the front door behind her. She put her hands behind her back and tilted her head slightly. He looked at her with eyes the blue of the ocean, and took her hand, placing a tender kiss on it. His lips lingered on her skin as she parted her lips slightly. She kept her hand in his as he looked up at her. She brought her eyes to his lips and leaned in. Luckily – and unexpectedly- he took the hint and brushed his lips against hers. His arm wrapped her waist as they closed their eyes and kissed tiny, shy kisses. She chuckled and moved back, looking into his eyes. “Robert, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t really like that” she teased as she played with a loose strand of his hair.

“I’m sorry.. Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to-“ He said with confusion in his eyes.

“No, no that’s not it.. you see, when I first approached you, I had one thing in mind” She interrupted. He opened his mouth to speak but she quickly shushed him with her finger. “I wanted to know you, I couldn’t stand the idea of not knowing who you are.. and when I say I want to know you, I don’t mean your family, the school you went to or all those things that people talk about during their first dates. I want to know you. I want to know what makes you cry.. I want to know what you think of god, of death, of sex. Let’s throw all the formalities in the trash and get real. I don’t want those little kisses anymore, when we kiss again tonight, let’s try to make it memorable. This is my last day here, we might never see each other again, so we’ve got nothing to lose..”

“What if I lose you?”

“If you raise your head to the night sky.. you’ll find me”

He looked at her in awe, almost disbelief, searching for a monster in her eyes, or maybe be a goddess. At that moment, he did not know if their relationship would last, but he knew that he’d never meet a girl like the one between his arms.

In the next few hours of the evening, they were walking along the streets of the town, asking each other questions by turn. At first, it was awkward and strange but once Maddie told the very detailed story of how she threw up from the window of her friend’s apartment, they got really comfortable. Robert was leading the way to all the places that were important to him throughout the little town. He showed her his grandpa’s grave and told her the story of how he fought in the war. He took her to the primary school he went to and talked about his childhood and how he would treat his children differently. One story after another, she kept listening and watching the glimmer in his blue eyes as he talked with passion. They were happy and afraid of the end of their night. They kept jumping from place to place until everyone disappeared into their houses. The town grew quiet and stars shone brighter. Alone in front of the river, they stood looking at the water flowing with a hesitance, the soft summer breeze brushing against their skin.

“ Do you think this world is good?” She broke the sweet silence.

“I don’t know.. I think I’ve seen too much misery to say that..”

“Is it bad then?”

“No, it’s not bad.. it’s not evil.. there IS evil but the world as a whole, not evil..” he sighed and looked up at the sky. “I think for us to exist, there has to be some evil, some darkness”

“And how is that?” she raised her eyebrows

“Let’s say that the world is a little room okay? You can light it from above and there will be no darkness, but when you put things inside that room there has to be some shadow..” Holding her hand, he sat on the ground with her in front of him. “I think that the perfect god created imperfect beings, he created beings with freedom, with life, for them to exist, there has to be some darkness, but the good and the bad, they cancel each other out, creating a strange harmony..”

“ So you do believe in god?”

“I do, yeah.. maybe not the very popular Jesus Christ, I think I just believe in a creator..” He said as their fingers intertwined. Watching the little movements of her hands, he asked “Do you?”

“I don’t know if I believe in a creator, I’m still figuring it out.. I think that god, if he exists, isn’t watching us from above, I think he’s in the little details.. I think he’s in the blooming flowers, in the mommy cat who runs to protect her kittens..” She paused as she saw him gazing at her, his eyes fixated on hers. “In the little space in between us ..” She looked into his eyes. Parting her lips slightly, she closed her eyes as his lips met hers with a shy longing. They pulled apart and took shaky breaths, their foreheads resting against each other. He looked into her eyes and held her head in his hands, pulling with need, with passion. One hand fondling her hair, the other exploring her body, appreciating every line, every crevasse, she lay flat on her back as he matched her body’s form.

“See? This is what I wanted” She grinned into the kiss. He smiled and pulled her closer again, parting her soft lips with his tongue, sending shivers down her spine. He was almost unable to contain his happiness, his fascination with her, his longing and his desire He sank into the kiss knowing that he wasn’t going to survive but not taking one glance back, he felt ready to sink into her sea of madness, to never ever be able to forget her.

“Do you mind if we continue this in my place?” He asked with a hint of fear.

“Yeah okay, let’s go” she said, heavily breathing.

He stood and helped her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her, breathing him in, capturing the moment, remembering him. Her head rested against his broad chest as he gently stroked her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“Wanna race to the house?” he whispered in her ear with a wide grin on his face.

“That’s not fair, I don’t know where it is”

“Well yeah you’re right but I don’t really want you to win” He said just before he sprinted. She laughed and ran behind him, their loud laughs filling the silent air.

Once they reached his place, he asked her to take off her shoes and carry them upstairs. Her heart was pounding as they ran to his room on the tips of their toes. He was breathing heavily when he opened the door for her. She walked in and he locked the door behind them. With the sound of the door shutting, he could almost hear his reluctant heartbeat. He lingered at the door before she turned to him and smiled. Unable to contain his feelings anymore, he stepped towards her and kissed her fully on her lips. Pulling her closer to his almost feverish body, he gently pushed her flat on the bed. Their kisses were hot, passionate and careless. Madeline’s hands were behind his neck, on his broad shoulders, exploring his chest. Feeling his hardness through his jeans, she felt sweetly dizzy, spontaneously parting her legs. Suddenly, he pulled away and sat up, the nervousness obvious on his face.

“Honey, why did you stop? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just think that I need to tell you something before it’s too late..” His breath was heavy as he tried avoiding eye contact.

“Robert, you can tell me anything..” She said as she caressed his shoulder, placing a quick kiss on it.

“Uhhh how do I say this..” he scratched his head “okay, here it goes, this will be my first time..” Robert chuckled.

“This will be my first time too” She lied with a shy smile.

He pulled her back and touched her lips with his as he held her hands. “I’m so happy to be with you” he whispered before kissing that sensitive spot just below her ear. He left a trail of wet kisses along her jawline, neck and collarbones. His shaky fingers reached for the zipper of her dress as she started unbuttoning his shirt, placing little kisses on his chest. He took it off, his eyes fixated on hers, not talking, not smiling, he just looked at her in the darkness, admiring her, loving her, carving her soft features in his memory.

Robert helped her out of her dress and lay in between her legs. Her fingers fondled his hair, that shone beneath the moonlight, as he kissed the hollow of her throat, subtly moving lower until he reached her lacy pink bra.

“May I?” He whispered, looking up at her.

“Yes..” She affirmed, arching her back slightly for him. He reached for her bra, stroking her smooth skin. His hand was shaky and sweaty as he fumbled with the hook. He tried once, twice.. as he kept his eyes on hers. She chuckled as he looked at her with confusion. With one swift movement, she undid the hook and bit her lip. Lingering, Madeline took it off and gazed at him. She had lost her virginity but she was never truly naked in front of somebody, body and soul. She took his hand and brought it to her breast. Her nipple tightened at his slightest touch.

“I want to feel you on my skin, baby” she murmured.

He cupped her other breast and began caressing her nipples with his thumb. She studied his face and watched his pupils widening slightly, causing her to grin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, their tongues entwining in a playful dance

He brushed his lips against the soft skin, licking, twirling his tongue around the taut buds, listening to her sighing and moaning quietly. Slowly, he moved his kisses across her stomach, caressing the sides of her body.

“Oh, baby it feels so good...”She shut her eyes and arched her back, letting him know that he’s doing a good job. She spread her legs wider, feeling her need growing stronger, taking over what’s left of her dizzy mind. He slipped his fingers under the lace of her panties as he kissed her wet centre…?. Between her hushed sighs, she grabbed his head and looked at him helplessly. “Baby please..”

He sat up and pulled her panties as she wiggled out of them. Completely naked, she spread her legs even wider to lure him in. For the first time in his life, Robert was looking at a woman lying down before him, no barriers between him and her. He felt his breath getting heavier, he knew he couldn’t hold much longer. “Control yourself” he almost whispered to himself before bringing his lips to her wetness. He licked her once and heard her let out an almost too loud moan. He reached for the zipper and took off his jeans, throwing them on the ground. One hand on his neck, the other on his chest, she pulled him towards her and kissed him with a love she’d never known before. She held his hand and guided him towards her centre. With his middle finger, he stroked her, touching her clit. He enjoyed the power he had over her as he watched her becoming a complete mess. He placed the tip of his finger on her entrance and whispered between wet kisses “Can I?”

She nodded and he slipped his finger inside, watching her gasp in absolute pleasure.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked, feeling her heartbeat with the palm of his hand. He felt taken, entirely lost in her.

“I’ve had personal experiences.. I’m good” She chuckled, taking a deep breath. “Baby, I need you in..”

Robert felt his heart pounding in his chest with a passionate urgency. He gave his girl a kiss and then took off his boxers. She bit her lip, her eyes slightly widening when she saw his rigid length. She smiled and let out a sigh, spreading her legs wide before he kneeled in between them. He placed his tip on her entrance and whispered “if it hurts just tell me okay?”

“Okay “

“You ready, honey?”

“Yes.. “ her eyes were fixated on his as he slid his length inside her. The warmth enveloping him, he threw his head back, his eyes closed, his mouth open. He felt everything at once, the blood was racing in his veins. Madeline was in a similar state, grasping the sheets beneath her, she felt real, alive. He woke up from his haze with a little smile on his face, caressing her cheek with the back of his index finger. She kissed his finger, her eyelids heavy. Slowly, he started thrusting inside her, entering a whole new world of ecstasy. She was grinding against him, almost unable to breathe. He dropped, burying his face in her neck, kissing her shoulders between moans. She squeezed his ass, bringing him closer to her as she felt the warmth spreading in her lower stomach. She could tell he was close as he sped up his pace, pushing deeper, and she was not holding back.

“Oh my .. I.. I’m gonna..” He moaned, barely lowering his voice so he didn’t wake up his family.

“Yes, Robert .. let go, baby.. let go..” She whispered breathily.

With a few more thrusts, his orgasm ripped through his body, immediately followed by hers. Her legs shook as she felt his cum deep inside her. She was exhausted and absolutely satisfied. Still inside her, she grabbed his face and kissed him, smiling into the kiss. “You know that wasn’t so bad for a first time..” Madeline teased as he collapsed next to her, their breaths slowing down steadily. He pulled the covers and cuddled her, a hand on her waist while the other was in her messy chestnut hair. He kissed her shoulder, whispering in her ear “I’ve never been this happy before..” He paused, gazing at her “Thank you.. Maddie”

“You’re very welcome, Blondie..”

#my writing #led zeppelin fan fic #ten years gone #robert plant fan fiction #led zeppelin fanfiction #robert plant fanfiction #led zeppelin fan fiction #robert plant fan fic #led zeppelin #lz

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nish-s-random-writing · 7 years ago

Text

Growing Up (2/?)

Chapter 2! USUK!

(a/n): Thank you for all the notes ahhh! <3 Hope you enjoy this chapter! I was already writing it before I got chapter one up, so it’ll be fairly better edited than the following chapters~

ff.net link || Chapter 1

Whereas Alfred’s mark had delicate vines with blooming blue roses, Arthur’s arm was covered with the markings of an iron gauntlet, almost. Elegant metal-like workings, forming an intricate web of a blue gate, or perhaps a shield. Something akin to that, connected to a Spadian mark spread right over his knuckles—right where Alfred’s thumb first touched him when Arthur took his hand.

The Royal Guards had come to the orphanage all dressed in their gold and blue glory. Alfred had gawked then, much like the other children, and gawked when he saw the fancy-looking blue carriage they were to ride in. His mouth had been hanging open from when he was told he was a monarch, to having said goodbye to his friends, to sitting in cushions so soft he never thought possible in a carriage pulled by elegant white horses, to seeing the huge metal gates surrounding the palace he was soon to live in. And that was just the outside!

The gates parted in their slow, massive movement, and the exquisite courtyard of Spades was revealed to them. Grassy areas and stray bushes were sprinkled around marble and cobblestone walkways, spreading over the enormous grounds. The symbol of the spade was everywhere—on the carriage, the hedges, the gates, the guards’ uniforms, and on the coats given for Alfred and Arthur to wear.

And Arthur, right across from Alfred in his seat, was gawking in equal fashion although with more confusion and less awe.

“Arthur! Isn’t this so cool?” Alfred asked, beaming with excitement.

“Cool?” Arthur was incredulous. “Alfred, this is—”

Unfortunately, he never got to finish his sentence when the carriage jolted to a halt, tipping Alfred forward in his seat. The door do the side was pulled open to reveal a young man standing at the bottom of the stairs which led to the front door.

He was lean and tall, with dark eyes and long dark hair tied at his shoulder, a few stray strands curling around the side of his face. He regarded the two with a look of genuine surprise, before he coughed into his hand and fixed his expression into something more welcoming.

Alfred grinned at him. “Hi!”

“Hello,” said the man with a pleasant smile. “My name is Wang Yao, but you may call me Yao, as most people call me too. I am the Jack of Spades.”

“Woah!” Alfred breathed, jumping out of the carriage. “That’s so cool! You’re the Jack? That’s so awesome!”

“Wait, wait,” There was Arthur, taking a careful step out behind Alfred. “I-if you’re the jack, doesn’t that mean you serve under us? I mean, uh, as t-the king and queen.”

Yao nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

Alfred couldn’t understand why the older boy looked so worried. Maybe he was simply too overjoyed?

“Wait, no!” Arthur cried. “That can’t be, we’re just kids! We can’t be expected to run a bloody kingdom!”

Yao only smiled kindly, a look Alfred found similar to what Miss Amelia did whenever a child cried over something.

“Calm down, Arthur,” he said, kneeling down to their height and offering his hand. “You two won’t be expected to run the kingdom yet. You’ll be raised here, in the palace, and you will be under my protection. I would never let anything harm you two, and when you need me I’ll be there with a single call. Is that okay?”

Arthur didn’t answer at first. He stared at Yao with disbelief, hands curled together under his heavy blue cloak. “I-I don’t know,” he croaked.

“That’s alright. You will be okay.”

“Thanks, Yao!” Alfred piped. “I trust you already!”

Yao raised an eyebrow, but offered a chuckle toward the younger boy who now jumped in his place.

“Alright, alright,” the jack said in his calming voice. “Well, let’s see. Alfred, would you please give me your arm? Yes, the only with the mark of Spades. Ah, look here,” Yao pointed to the Spade which lay in the center of Alfred’s upturned hand, Arthur watching curiously from the side.

“There’s a hole there,” The older boy commented. Yao nodded in agreement.

“And see how the hole is in the shape of a Spade?” Indeed, it made the mark look like a slightly thicker cookie-cutter.

“Now, Arthur give me your arm. See, on your knuckles, your spade is filled completely. That means you’re the Queen, Arthur.”

Ooo000oooO

The palace was wonderful! Alfred was led down winding halls filled with pretty-looking furniture, gold and blue pieces of art, and, the best part, walls upon walls lined with ancient-looking armor shining and gleaming with weapons Alfred wanted so badly to touch, but Yao had told him not to and Arthur was looking at him weird.

They walked through the throne room—it was insanely huge! Two identical golden thrones stood in the middle of a raised marble podium, equal in height and structure. Alfred couldn’t believe he would be sitting with Arthur on those soon!

But as they walked passed he could help but sense the melancholic emptiness surrounding the thrones, curtains drawn over windows and drapes set over some paintings. It was like the room didn’t feel as lively as it should have been, and suddenly, neither was Yao.

They were tugged along by the Jack, further into the palace, and his mood immediately lightened as they left the room. Alfred gawked at tapestries and paintings, at weapons and armor, yanking at Yao’s clothing and asking about all the battle-scenes he saw.

And the man indulged him. He gave a name and a year to each tapestry without pausing, said who fought who when Alfred asked, and was rewardingly greeted with high-pitched exclamations of “woah! And “so cool!”

But when Alfred looked over his shoulder, he found Arthur trudging along with his cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders. His eyes darted around the palace, lacking any sign of excitement or joy. He had interest, yes, but he seemed almost… afraid.

It was unusual and almost scary in itself, it wasn’t like confident, snarky Arthur at all! But Alfred decided he was still just nervous. It would pass, surely! He could get Arthur to play around the palace and have picnics out on the huge grounds—it would be great!

But for the moment Alfred quieted down and walked at the boy’s pace. Maybe he just needed some comfort.

Arthur fixed him with a scowl, taking a few paces back, but when Alfred was about to question him Yao snapped his fingers to their attention.

“Look here, you two. This is the palace library, where we house over sixteen-thousand books from all throughout the known world!” Yao stood them right in front of a set of massive open double-doors, where inside were shelves that spanned from floor to ceiling filled to the brim with books and ladders running along their lengths. Elegant glass tables filled the massive room, complete with plush seats and a royal blue rug encompassing the entire floor.

“Books?” Alfred mumbled, not entirely sure if he should be amazed by this, but next to him Arthur was staring with eyes wide as saucers.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Come along now. You can visit these places after you clean up.”

Ooo000oooO

After Alfred had been spun around in a dizzyingly huge bathroom and dressed in a fresh white cotton shirt and black trousers, he was led into a bedroom comprising of two beds, facing each other at opposite ends of the room, along with shelves and dressers filled with all sorts of entertaining-looking things.

And then Arthur was there, dressed in quite the same outfit. But he was fuming, sitting on his bed with crossed arms and a glare to the floor.

“Now, you two just relax for the rest of the day,” said Yao. “Talk, sleep, whatever you please. If you need me, simply holler down the hall. If you want food, you can call for a maid and ask them to fetch you something. Please, make yourselves at home and don’t think too much, alright, Arthur?”

The older boy jumped, meeting Yao’s pointed look. He was confused, but nodded nonetheless.

“Alright, then!” Yao clapped. “I’ll take you around the grounds tomorrow, give you simple pointers, and arrange for your lessons and schedules in a few days.”

“Lessons?” Alfred questioned, wrinkling his nose.

“Yes, lessons. As the king and queen in training, you two have to be sensible and ready enough to lead the kingdom! I’ll see you for dinner.”

With that, the door was closed and Alfred was left alone in a massive room with one evidently upset Arthur.

“Hey, um, Arthur—”

“I can’t believe this,” The green eyed boy growled, glaring at the floor.

“You’re… upset that we’re king and queen?”

“No. I’m angry and in utter disbelief that you,” He fixed his glare on Alfred. “Are the bloody king.”

Alfred stared at him. He took a step back. Something about Arthur’s words, especially after he thought he’d made some sort of progress with him, sent a knife through the boy’s heart. “W-why?”

He didn’t understand. This was supposed to be great, wasn’t it? They were two lost boys who just needed a family, and now they were handed excessive wealth and power and a chance to change things for the better! They now had something of a family in Yao and each other, the power to help others like them and more. The power to make a significant change, and Arthur was mad about it?

“You don’t get it, Alfred. We’re handed this- this enormous responsibility! We’re supposed to grow up and dig this kingdom out of the ditch it’s in and you—you’re the king! Stupid, carefree, irresponsible, dumb Alfred who can only possibly be a nuisance—the boy who’s supposed to lead!” Arthur grit his teeth and stood, making the younger take another step back.

“This was a mistake. I’m not spending my time around you.”

So Alfred was left alone in the room, more than a little hurt.

Ooo000oooO

He found Arthur inside the library climbing one of the ladders to reach a particular spine he’d spotted up above.

Yao was there too. He stood leaning against the doorframe with arms folded, watching Arthur with thoughtful eyes. Alfred made to stand by his side.

“I heard that, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Has Arthur always… disliked you?”

Alfred pursed his lips, unsure of what to say. “I…” He sighed. “He hated me from the start. He moved into the orphanage just a few days ago and, since then he was really mean.”

Yao hummed. Looking up at him, Alfred decided he liked Yao. He seemed confident, nice, full of helpful advice. He seemed like a wise old master ready to whip out a sword and fight with analytical grace at any given moment.

“Are you a samurai?”

Yao jumped, bristling suddenly. “O-oh, uh, no. You must be thinking of, uh, others. Other people. ”

“You look like one of those people from samurai places.”

“Exactly.” Yao gave him a tight smile. “Well, my place of origin is close to where the samurai are from, a-and people do mix us up. But they’re ancient, ah, haven’t been around for years. They started over at the Kingdom of Hearts, you know, in the east.”

“But you’re like a samurai,” said Alfred thoughtfully, thinking back on Miss Amelia’s history books and the drawings they held. “I think that’s pretty cool.”

Yao blinked. “Well, thank you, Alfred.” And then he furrowed his brows, going back into thought, before resurfacing and facing Alfred with a renewed smile of confidence.

“Do you dislike Arthur too?”

“No!” Alfred gasped. “I really want to be friends with him, but,” He deflated. “I guess he hates me.”

“Well, he has a reason, you know. People don’t act out against others without any reason. It could be something about his past, before he ended up at the orphanage—who knows. But the reason has stuck by him, so you’ll have to convince him otherwise.”

“Oh. How do I do that?”

“Well, take it slow. Make a good impression, but don’t push it too hard. Most of all, though, be yourself. Stay true.” Yao looked at him gently, but Alfred still frowned.

“He hates myself.”

“Ah, but he hasn’t seen your entire self yet. It will be alright, you’ll see.”

Oh Alfred hoped so, if he was to spend the rest of his life with the ‘stick in the mud’.

#usuk #fanfiction #cardverse #aph america #aph england #growing up #fanfic #chapter 2 #hetalia #aph china #my writing #nish

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tenaciousarcadeexpert · 7 years ago

Text

Criminal Minds-The Good Ol’ Days

@marvelfanlife, @itsmeedee, @stunudo, @veroinnumera, @derekmorgansoffice, @dontshootmespence, @cynbx, @jaqren, @literallyprentissstwin, @gabriellewritermua, @blitzz11, @beenthroughalot, @princesswagger14

Special Thanks for @princesswagger14 for helping me

Chapter 5-Just A Simple Crush

It has been days since the teens returned from their trip and things were back to normal as usual. Since these past few days, Hotch and Matt seemed to get pretty close to one another. The more they hung out together, the more Matt saw Hotch smile and they had all kinds of inside jokes. Hotch started to get a better knowing of Matt, seeing that he was a pretty decent guy as opposed to the typical obnoxious jock. The same goes for Matt, who was able to get Hotch to open up as he was more that the “stoic” and serious one. As time went on though, Matt kept talking about a girl around campus he likes, much to Hotch’s interest, given that so many girls fancied him and other guys like him, though he never thought that there would be someone he truly likes.

“Wow, she sounds nice.” “Yeah, you have no idea. Too bad I rarely see her nowadays.” Matt groaned while he stirs his coffee.

“Hey, who knows, you might see her again.” “You really think so?” “I know so.” “Yeah. Well, I gotta get going.” Matt said as he got up and grabbed his backpack. “See ya.” As Hotch was heading to his class, he was looking down at his to do list for the day when he suddenly collided with girl with auburn-ish hair.

“Oh my goodness I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.” “It’s fine.” The girl gently pushed a streak of hair to the back of her ear. “I wasn’t paying attention. I’m so sorry again.” She says as she walks off.

Hotch quickly walks to his class without anymore incidents. When he finally gets to his class, he was surprised to see the same girl he saw earlier, which was odd given that a few days have passed and he somehow did not recognize some of his classmates. As everyone got seated, he sits next to her and she looks up and smiles at him.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know we share the same class.”

“Yeah, what are the chances huh?” He then extends his hand out. “I’m Aaron, by the way.”

“Kristy. It’s nice to know you, Aaron.” The two shake hands while getting out their books for class. Just as Kristy puts her notebook down, Hotch’s eyes drift down as he sees the notebook cover with markings of M+K and Mrs. Simmons. Hotch couldn’t help but squint his eyes as he took a better look at the markings on her notebook. Before he could do anything, Kristy put her notebook to the side, taking out her textbook just as their professor arrived. While writing, he couldn’t help but think about the marking on her notebook. He would ask about them but, he would do it at the end of class.

Soon, class was almost over and Hotch was about to leave when Kristy drops her notebook. When Hotch picks it up, he uses it as an excuse to ask about the markings. He then makes his way up the stairs just to catch up to her.

“Kristy, Kristy!” He shouts. She stopped just to see Hotch run up to her.

“I uh, think this belongs to you. You dropped it just as you were heading out.” “Oh my god.” Kristy gasped in relief as she clutched the journal. “Thank you so much.” She was about to walk away when she she asked him. “You didn’t…….” “Oh uhm...no.” He scratched his head.

“Oh okay.” “But I do have one question.” “Yes?”

“Did you at some point, just maybe….. Talk to a guy named Matt Simmons?”

“Uhhh what makes you say I do?”

“Idk, your cover is filled with markings of ‘M+K’. Plus I’ve seen you write ‘Mrs. Kristy Simmons’ a couple of times during class. And I’m pretty sure I know a guy who’s name starts with an M and whose last name is ‘Simmons.’”

“Oh uh….wow, what a coincidence.” She awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah. Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I do sense there’s something going on between you and Matt. Are you sure you don’t…….”

She groans and sighs. “Okay, maybe I like him a little bit. But I don’t see him much anymore.” She looked around and walked a little close to Hotch. “You don’t happen to know him, do you?”

He nods. “Yeah, he’s my…...roommate.”

Her eyes widen. “What?! Really?! You dorm with him?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god, oh my god! Can you please, please, please put in a good word for me? Please?!”

“Okay, okay! Just calm down. I’ll uh, say that you were looking for him and you want to talk to him. Okay?” “Oh, that would be sooooo nice.” She pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.” She gushed as she squeezed him tightly and skipped away to her next class.

“Ahh.” Hotch groaned as he walks away. “Damn that girl is strong.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Haley Brooks was outside sitting near the fountain where she was reciting lines from William Shakespeare’s Othello

“My dear Othello! Okay...that wasn’t so bad. Let’s see…..” She murmured as she skims through the book. “The heavens forbid…….That our love and comforts should increase,….Even as our days do grow….Okay, I think I got it. She licked her thumb and skimmed through pages. Although the play was only four weeks away, she couldn’t help but worry about possibly forgetting her lines as Desdemona.

“Amen to that, sweet powers!”

Haley looked up to see Stephen Walker standing in front of her just as she goes over her lines. “Stephen?”

“I cannot speak enough of this content; ……...It stops me here; it is too much of joy:.......” She smiled as he continued to recite lines from Othello while approaching her.

“And this, and this, the greatest discords be…….That e'er our hearts shall make!”

“Ohhhhhh.” She clapped. “That was so good.”

“I know. You weren’t so bad either.”

She waved her arm. “Oh please, I can barely memorize them without going back to the book.” “Oh, if you want, I can help you.” “You could?” “Yeah, just tell me which scene you’re on.” “Oh, well I-”

“Haley! Haley!” Both Haley and Stephen suddenly turned around to see Kristy eagerly running towards them.

“What sweetie? What is it?!” She asked as Kristy constantly shakes her. When she stopped, she noticed how big her smile was and her eyes all filled up with glee.

“Oh god, let me guess…… Matthew?”

“YES!!! Well no not Matt but Matt’s roommate!! He said he’d talk to Matt and that I wanted to meet with him. AHHH I’M SO HAPPY!!”

“Uh, what’s going on here?” Stephen asked as Kristy jump around like a five year old.

“Well my poor poor, boy crazy friend has talked about this guy named Matthew who helped her when Kyle tried to get with Kristy in the library when school first started.”

“Ahhhh, boy crazy huh?”

“Yep, poor Kristy.”

“I see.” Stephen took sight of Haley’s friend as he waved to her. “Uh Haley, who’s your friend.” “Ah Kristy, this is Stephen. He and I are taking theater together. We’re performing in Othello.” “Wow.” “I know, you better be there when it starts.” “I will.” “And who knows, you might bring Matt with you.” She chuckled. “Yeah, will do.” Kristy then wiggles her shoulders. “I hope he really does get the message.” “I hope so too.” She sassed. Haley and Stephen watched as Kristy leave. “Man, Kristy’s so lucky. I wish I was able to find a guy like she did.”

“Who knows, you’ll find someone.” She scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure Matt has a roommate that’s just as equally attractive and gentleman-like.” Stephen chuckled in amusement. “Who knows, he probably does.”

“Yeah and I’ll just hold my breath.” Haley laughs.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the dining hall, Reid looked around as he tries to locate Marissa just so that Derek and Luke know what she looks like.

”Okay pretty boy, so what does Marissa look like?” Derek says as he looks around.

“Well she's black, with long brunette hair, dark brown eyes, tall.”

“I see........” Derek says, again looking around. “ Is it that one over there? In the purple tank top?” Luke asks.

Spencer squints his eyes, only to widen them just as he took took sight of her. “Oh goodness, yep that's her.”

“Woah easy pretty boy, you got this.” Derek then rubs Reid's shoulders.

He sighs. “Okay okay, what do I say?”

“Don't overthink. Just go and say hi and try to get the conversation going.”

Spencer: ok, i can do this.” He then gets up and walks to her table, giving both Derek and Luke a thumbs up.

“Good luck out there.” Derek clapped.

“Yeah, you can do this.” Luke cheered.

“H-h-hi Marissa.” Spencer stutters.

Marissa: Oh hey Spencer! What’s up?”

He rubbed his head. “I uh.....oh dear......”

Marissa: do you wanna hang with us?

“Oh uh, yea sure. I'd love to.”

“Cool! So we gonna play scary games, wanna join?

“ Ooo scary games. I'm in.”

“OH GOD THE DOOR IS OPENING!” Marissa’s friends, Tez and Jezzy shout.

“Wait, what?!” Reid asked, confused. All he could hear was Marissa’s friends randomly freaking out.

“I'M SCARED MAN!!!” Jezzy screams.

“WE AIN'T NO BITCHES THO!” Tez tries to convince himself and Jezzy that they were okay.

“Wha-what?!” Reid croaked, still confused by the madness that goes on with Marissa’s friends. He then tapped her shoulder. “Marissa, what is going on?”

“Jezzy and Tez are both afraid of clowns so we're having them play a game with clowns.” Marissa explains while Tez and Jezzy are still screaming in the background.

“Oh uh clowns?” He asked, curious.

“Yea, you’re not afraid, are you? should i get you to play with them?” Marissa teases.

“WHat me?! Afraid of clowns? No way, I'm not scared of any clowns.” Reid tries to act tough.

Marissa smirked. “Ooohhh i think you are! Tez, Jezzy I think Spencer wants to play!”

“Wait wait wait wait! No I don't, I don't want t-”

“Spencer! Spencer! Spencer!” The three chant.

“Uh wait, I change my mind, I don't want to play anymore!”

“Come on man you can do it! Do it!” Reid hears from everyone at the table.

Reid looked away and crossed his arms. “No, I wo-”

“Please Spencer?” She begged. “For me?” *=She then starts to give him the puppy dog eyes, much to his dismay.

He then whimpers and sigh. “Uh..............okay.”

“Yay, so what you need to do is collect 10 owls in 5 minutes. But for every owl you get, The 3 clowns chases you even faster. Got it?”

“I uh got it.” Reid says as he sits down.

"Okay, the headphones are on full volume. So get into it.”

“Okay.”

As Reid starts playing, it is very apparent that he might’ve regret his decision at that point. As he walks around in the dark he sees an owl and picks it up. He sees the clowns a few times and avoided it successfully. But when he picked up the 5th owl, the clowns all jumpscare Marissa and Spencer and a few of Marissa's friend, prompting the two of them to both run and jumped out of their seats. “Fuck, shit, fuck fuck fuck shit.” Marissa blurts out. “I told you guys that you fucked up!” Tez and Jezzy screamed at Marissa and Spencer. “WHY DID YOU BUY THE GAME!?” “IT WAS FREE!” “YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO BUY IT!” “IT WAS STILL FREE DAMMIT!” “Ughhhhhh. Free my ass, now I won't be able to sleep tonight.” Tom says, sinking back into his seat. “What the hell was tHAt?!” Reid yelled bent over his chair, catching his breath. “The bitch is trippin!” Spencer and Marissa both laugh. “My god.” Reid says sitting down. “That was freaking awesome!” Marissa yelled. “Agreed.” Tom said high fiving Marissa. “Awesome? I had no idea what was going on in that game, no offense.” Spencer said, confused. “That's how scary games are supposed to be!” Tom explained. “Ohhh ohhhhhhhhh!” Reid says in understanding. “Tom wanna play another game?” Marissa asked. “Oh Really? And have more nightmares tonight?........ Of course!” He says rushing to what had been Reid’s chair. “Hell yea!” Tez and Jezzy yell.

As Marissa puts on Outlast, Spencer takes a seat behind Marissa and Tom. As Marissa puts on the headphones her face says she's scared fuckless but she keeps ‘screaming she ain't no bitch’. When she gets fairly far in the game, she and everyone else gets jumpscared.

“RAAAAPPPPEEEE.................oh god........... WHY!!!??” Tom screams as he runs out of his chair. “Man, I'm done!” Tez says. “MAN I told you to go right miss ‘ITS NOT THE WRONG WAY IN MY EYES’!" Tom screamed.

“Shut up Tez! I Told you I had something in my eye!” Marissa said. Tez rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” “WHY WAS THERE A PIG?!” Reid asked, baffled by the pig’s presence. “There was a pig?” Tom asked. “There was ha!” Tez said.

Just then, Marissa and rest of the group wanted to hang at her dorm for the rest of the game night they were having. Just as they were about to leave, they turn to Reid.

“Hey Spencer are you coming with us?” Marissa asked. “Uh sure, would love to!” He said, excited. “I mean, yeah, I am.” “Nice! Wanna bring the friends you were sitting with? The more, the merrier!” “Oh uhm, let me go ask them.” Spencer said as he starts walking over to his table. “Hey pretty boy how did it go?” Derek asks. “Pretty well, and she's asking me to come over to her dorm, along with some friends. You guys wanna join?” “Are you ok with that?” Luke asked, wondering if Reid was okay with him and Derek joining him along with Marissa and her friends. “Yeah, I'm okay with that!” Reid says “Ok, im game! What about you Derek?” Luke said looking at Derek. “Let's see.......Sure, anything for my special boy!” Derek laughs. “Uh, ok lets go!” Derek and Luke get up from the table as Marissa runs up to them. “Hey yall coming? We are going to go crazy tonight! Woooohooo!” She screams as she grabs Reid’s hand and runs.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, Garcia was waiting for Courtney to get back from the showers. While she was waiting, she got more and more anxious for Courtney to come back. Finally, She walks into the room Garcia waved at her.

“Hey Courtney!” Garcia said cheerfully.

“Hey Garcia.” Courtney walked inside as she grabs a comb and starts combing her hair. “You seemed pretty worried, you okay?”

“Yes, well, kinda. Um, can we talk for a second?”

“Uhhhh okay.” She then sat down on her bed. “Let’s make it quick, cause I have a still life painting I need to work on tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. Um, do you remember that letter couple days ago i had you read with me?”

“Yes, I remember. Oh I almost forgot, how was the trip?”

“Um, it was… interesting. But thing is, it turns out, we were never supposed to tell anyone about it and i told you. I’m just wondering, could you just keep that between you and me?”

Garcia watched as she scrunched her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to tell me about the trip?”

“No. Please don’t tell anyone! My Professor told us that if we told anyone, and it gets around, we could all get in trouble!”

“Woah, did you say ‘in trouble’?!” Courtney blurts out as she leaped up from her bed.

“Yes! Please don’t tell me you told anyone!”

“N-no, I didn’t.” Garcia then glares at her. “I’m serious, I didn’t tell anyone. Besides, secret or not, I don’t gossip about my roommate’s life with any of my friends.” “Okay, okay, this is good. So this stays between us, right?”

Courtney sighs and crossed her arms. “Yes, just between us.” She then pats Garcia on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

“Okay, good. Thanks. I owe you, big time.”

“Yeah you do.” She joked as she walked up to her bed.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No, I’m not. But maybe next time, give me a warning or something.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow, I buy you anything you want.”

She raised an eyebrow at her. “Anything?”

“Anything, just say the thing. You like cupcakes or donuts? Cinnamon rolls? Frozen yogurt? Beignets?” She chuckled. “Garcia, you do-”

“Shut it. What do you want? I want to make it up to you!”

She sighs. “Hmmmm. Well, I always wanted to go eat at that Pancake house just near the mall. I heard they made really good chocolate chip pancakes and red velvet waffles, but I don’t know. It’s seems expensive and most of my money are for my art supplies.”

“Nonsense! We will go to that place Saturday morning for breakfast, my treat. What do you say?”

Courtney scratched her head. “I’d love too, but I can’t let you do this. I don’t want you to spend too much money because of me.”

“What did I say? Come on! Really Courtney, it’s free food that I’m offering you!”

“Okay, but that’s it! Nothing too big, just us eating tasty pancakes and waffles.”

“Okay! It’s a date!”

“Uhhh date?!” She asked confused.

“No no no! Not like that! Unless you want want it to be a date.” Garcia says as she winks at Courtney.

“Ehhh…” She blushed. “It’s just brunch and thank you. I’ll try to make it up to you.”

“No hun, this is my treat.”

“Okay. Well, be better get some rest. Don’t wanna wake up miserable tomorrow. Night.”

“Night!”

#aaron hotchner #matt simmons #kristy simmons #haley hotchner #stephen walker #spencer reid #luke alvez #derek morgan #penelope garcia #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #the good ol days

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