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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

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Title: Shadow & Smoke***

Pablo Schreiber x Reader x Lewis Tan

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, SMUTTTT, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Words: 5k

Summary: Eh. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Note: So this is a mixture of two firsts for me. This was inspired by the song Mr. Man by Alicia Keys. How did I do?

I hope you guys enjoy this. Thank you so much for reading! ❤️

If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT and REBLOG. ❤️❤️

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

The nights were starting to blend together. It wasn’t that you were bored, but there was a routine in place that you’d become—too accustomed to. You were the type of woman who liked routine and normalcy, but you also liked the unpredictability that life sometimes offered. Being the girlfriend of one of the most, if not the most powerful and dangerous man in the city meant that you were always on his arm.

Pablo liked to bring you along to business deals he needed to close. You thought it was to show you off, but it was really a more tactful reason than that. He did it to sift out who had the potential to be disloyal. His logic was if any of them dared to ogle you while he was there, then they’d have the balls to fuck him over in business.

“There’s a thin line between loyalty and disloyalty, and usually the deciding factor in it all came down to a pretty face.”

If he wasn’t bringing you to handle business, you were being whisked to surprise shopping trips, extravagant trips, delectable eateries that charged a ridiculous amount of money for their dishes. Usually, every night, you were on his arm at one of his clubs as he showed his face and ate up all the adoration and respect one in his high position brought.

You’d met him as a liquor sales rep almost four years ago. You walked into one of his clubs with the intent to convince him to purchase some of the alcohol you were peddling. From almost the minute he sat down, you were attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? The man was almost seven feet tall, built like no one’s business, had haunting hazel eyes, and such a hypnotizing aura around him. He spoke, you listened, he smiled you gawked, he licked his lips, you shifted in your seat.

By the time you got up to leave the club, he’d bought you out of everything, easily meeting and exceeding your quota for the month. His reason was he had to have you free for him because he hated competition of any sort. That was when you got the first glimpse of the man he was—a force to be reckoned with. An hour after you left, he’d already called you and scheduled himself for dinner that night. One dinner led to lunch the next day, then dinner that night, and a whirlwind weekend trip to France where you found out just how much of a force to be reckoned with he was.

Flash forward four years later, and your role in his life had only increased, and your understanding of his role in the city among the mayor, governor, senator, and other heavy hitters had fully sunk in. Pablo “Shadow” Schreiber was at the top of the food chain. Everyone was either terrified of him or wanted to be with him.

“You look incredible tonight, sweetheart.”

Glancing to your left, you found Pablo’s eyes. Within them, there was a hint of mischief as well as a whole lot of desire. You leaned close to his face leaving barely an inch.

“You’re welcome to look, daddy,” you replied a little above a whisper.

At the mention of that word, Pablo’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes dropped to yours. Deciding to tease him, you trailed your tongue over your bottom lip, knowing that the long-wear lipstick you wore would stay in place. Pablo’s groan sounded closer to a growl, and with the sound, the heat in his eyes intensified.

“Be careful, sweetheart.”

“Boss.”

Like clockwork, one of his henchmen interrupted. It was always a thing. The two of you would create this bubble of teasing and desire only to have it be popped by someone who needed something from him. You were attention-starved.

Pablo looked from you and to Leo, his third. When Leo got his attention, he leaned down to whisper business. Rolling your eyes, you looked away and around the club. That was when you saw him. he was across the club leaning against the bar. In one hand, he held a drink and clasped between his pointer and middle finger was something rolled and lit. You couldn’t tell if it was a cigarette, a blunt, or something else. Something said it was your second guess.

You watched him raise the crystal glass to his lips. The smoke danced around his face creating an element of mystery that completely intrigued you. From what you could see, he was checking out the club and the women inside. His eyes danced from one to the other, never resting long. Either none of them was what he liked, or he was searching for something—someone specific.

When he brought the rolled substance to his lips, you watched as he took a long puff. Before he released it, his eyes moved to your area of the club. Clutching your drink glass, you watched him, unsure if he were looking at you. The stranger turned his body in your direction and slowly blew out the smoke. If he was mysterious before, he was now ten times so. Slowly the smoke cleared, and it was then you got a good look at his face. He was gorgeous.

It had been a while since a face was able to stop you in your tracks. None had since Pablo’s. You lifted your glass to your lips and slowly drank down the Whiskey. The ice cubes in your glass gently bounced against your lip, giving you a slight chill as the heat of the alcohol deliciously burned you. As the liquid slinked down your throat, your eyes remained locked with the stranger at the bar.

Time seemed to stop. The air became thick, so thick it was almost difficult for you to get a full breath. When you saw his tongue snake out to wet his lips, your eyes dropped to his mouth. A small smirk spread across his lips, and you could feel the smug coming off of him.

Almost unconsciously, your tongue peaked out of your mouth and slowly traced the path around the rim of your glass. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Dipping your tongue into the glass, you used it to scoop up an ice cube to suck on. Gone was that small smirk. It was now a full-on grin. He was sexy, and though you knew you shouldn't be doing this, especially with Pablo right beside you, you couldn’t help it. He’d left you wanting for too long.

Once the ice cube had melted, you looked away. His eyes were too hypnotizing, and the longer you looked into them, the more you wanted to risk Pablo’s wrath. Pablo gently rubbed your exposed thigh before he got up and walked off with Leo and Laith. You’d learned early that he was always busy, and his free time was not as plentiful as one would think a boss’s would be. You’d also learned that everything in his life took balance. You must have gotten spoiled when you were his top priority for the first two years.

He went above and beyond, ensuring that you knew your value to him. He went to great lengths to make sure you felt special, loved, and prized above all else. He did this with small, romantic gestures as well as grand displays and deeply satisfying intimate moments. By year three, he’d incorporated more and more work, more and more business trips. Every month he was on a plane. Depending on the reason for the trip, you’d be right beside him on the private jet, but four out of ten times, you were left under the watchful eye of Levi, his brother.

Pablo looked back at you as he walked off. The look spoke volumes, and it was loud. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the glass he left behind and finished it. The music in the club and the patrons were your only entertainment for a while. When you looked back to the bar, the stranger was gone. You were left with an annoyed feeling that mixed with your slight arousal. You made a note to give Pablo an earful once you got home. If he was hell-bent on keeping you around, he’d better start acting like it.

After twenty or so minutes, you’d had six fingers of Whiskey, and you were feeling better than a little nice. You were still alone at your table under the watchful eye of two of Pablo’s henchmen. Every so often, when a song came on that you liked, you got up and made your way to the VIP dancefloor. This was where the girls of the men Pablo employed hung out. You never mixed with them. You always got the feeling they either didn’t like you, or they wanted to be you--literally. Whatever it was, it always made you uncomfortable.

“It’s both.”

You looked back and found Danika, Levi’s long time girlfriend. The figure-hugging white dress she wore clung to her like a second skin. It matched perfectly with her ankle strap silver heels. She winded her hips to the music and smiled widely.

“When did you get here?”

“Maybe five minutes ago. Levi couldn’t allow me one night of quiet,” she informed.

You closed the space to her. The two of you kissed cheeks like bougie wives did, only it wasn’t fake with the two of you. she and Levi had gotten together about the same time you and Pablo got together, and both of you found solace in each other because you both could relate to what the other was going through. When you were left alone because of Pablo’s trips, more times than not, she would be too because Levi would go as well.

“They don’t like you, and they want to be you. it’s the same with me.”

The two of you glanced at the group of girls huddled to your right and simultaneously rolled your eyes.

“They think if we weren’t in the picture that Levi and Pablo would fuck them,” Danika voiced louder then necessary. She was putting them on notice.

“Not knowing that even if we weren’t in the picture, they’d never look twice at them. There’s filet mignon, and there’s Kobe beef. Why chew on filet mignon when Kobe melts in your mouth?”

The girls were trying not to look at you, but you knew they heard her. Danika had no chill and always spoke her mind. Pablo always thought that when you were together that you wouldn’t get into too much trouble. Little did he know Danika was not the angel she pretended to be. She’d gotten you into your fair share of trouble—trouble he knew about and trouble he didn’t.

The two of you danced together when the song changed and played off each other. In no time, it was as if no one else in the club mattered. While you were wrapped up in the song and the buzz you were feeling from the Whiskey, you saw him again from the corner of your eye. This time he was in a shaded part of the club that was cloaked in dark color. The hues of red and purple decorated his skin but illuminated it enough for you to make out some of the detail. He was incredibly handsome.

Before you knew it, you were dancing with Danika while eye fucking the man. You didn’t know what the hell had come over you. Never in the four years had you behaved like this with anyone else but Pablo. He was the only one who could bring out this wanton side of you—or so you thought. When Danika shrieked out with the change of the song, you looked away from him. You began to wonder if you should make a move.

Glancing around the club, you clocked each of Pablo’s henchmen. His brother, Levi, his number two, was sitting watching Danika, who was now undressing him with her eyes. You knew any minute she’d go over, and they’d be practically fucking in the club. Danika pulled you close to her and whispered.

“You have an audience.”

Glancing at her, she coyly nodded her head over to the stranger. You tried not to smile, but it was useless.

“Ah, you’ve noticed. He’s cute.”

“D, stop.”

“Why? It’s true.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes but took a quick peek in his direction again. His eyes hadn’t left you.

“I can distract Levi if you want to--.” She winked.

“D! Stop it! That’s insane.”

“Why? You’re not dead. Plus, what Shadow doesn’t know--,” she trailed.

This was the kind of trouble Danika was good for. She was like the devil on your shoulder. You knew she’d fooled around on Levi and had heard stories of the fooling around Levi occasionally did when he felt that itch. Neither were stupid, but both were crazy, so they kept their misdealings on the low. You, on the other hand, had never fooled around behind Pablo’s back. You never had a reason to.

As your eyes met the gorgeous stranger’s again, you bit your bottom lip. Until now, you thought. You caught the eye of Pablo walking back to the table. Leo was still beside him, yapping away, but he also had two other men surrounding him. he was still talking shop. Annoyance flared through you with a vengeance. Danika walked to Levi and sat on his lap before her lips met his. You walked back to the table and sat. You felt his eyes on you with every step you took.

You sat beside Pablo and tried to get past the unexpected thoughts you were having. Five minutes passed, but still, the thoughts persisted. When you looked up, the stranger was again in the shadows. Fuck it, you thought before you stood and took a step.

“Where you going, sweetheart?”

Painting a sugary smile on you responded. “Bathroom, baby.”

Pablo nodded, but you felt him watching you. He was a secure man, but he was a possessive one. You walked through the crowd; all the while sneaking peeks at the stranger. You turned the corner and walked down the dark corridor that led to the bathroom. You knew this club like the back of your hand.

Once inside the bathroom, you stood in front of the mirror and focused on toying with your hair. By the time you got to twelve, the door had opened, and in walked the stranger. You locked eyes from the mirror, and you damn near buckled. He was even more beautiful than you thought. His eyes were so brown and so damn penetrative that you decided to have his face between your thighs then and there.

As if reading your thoughts, he locked the door and, in the same breath, pushed up behind you. You could feel his hardness pressing into your ass. His hands gripped your body, one at your breast, the other at your hip. The way he held you felt possessive like he owned you. The only one to have ever held you like that was Pablo. This was a man who knew what he wanted and took it. Pablo was that caliber of a man as well. It was intoxicating.

His lips fastened onto your neck and immediately found your spot. When you felt his teeth graze your skin, you pulled away and glared at him through the mirror. Another smirk spread across his face. In seconds he’d had you turned around so you faced him. When his lips crashed to yours, he wasted no time delving his tongue into your mouth. Almost instantly, he took control of the kiss, and almost instantly, your lacy thong was drenched.

As if sensing this, you felt his fingers graze your inner thigh until it connected with your sex. You gasped on his mouth, which permitted him even more access to your mouth. Fuck, you thought. You were losing control of this situation. Pulling your lips from his, you looked at him. The fire in his eyes had heat rushing through you. You watched as he slipped his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off. Once his fingers were clean, he moaned.

“You’re as sweet as you look.”

Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him to you, but instead of claiming his lips, you began pushing his head lower. He knew what you wanted. In seconds he hoisted you into his arms and began lifting you higher into the air as if you weighed an ounce. One he’d placed you on his shoulders, he used his teeth to pull your thong to the side before he began his feast.

“Fuck!”

Slapping your hand across your mouth, you groaned and mumbled another curse into your palm. It was clear from the start he had no intention of going slow. The fast flicks of his tongue had your back arching, and the soft nibbles he dropped in had your free hand tangling in his hair. When you felt your back press onto the cold surface of the bathroom, you moaned again. You didn’t dare remove your hand from your mouth. You didn’t trust yourself. The stranger between your legs used both his hands and pried your thighs apart, so he was holding you against the wall spread like French doors.

The thick pad of his tongue slowly licked you from opening to clit. When he got to your clit he sucked it into his mouth. He wasn’t gentle, and the increase in suction had you feeling the first stirs of your orgasm.

“Yes, yes, right there. Fuck! Oh my god!”

Feeling a scream coming, you plastered both your hands across your mouth to lessen the volume. He dipped his tongue into your core, and you lost your shit right then and there. When you began shaking, he didn’t slow down. He picked up the pace. You couldn’t believe someone could fuck a pussy with their tongue so quickly. After every three or four dips, he sucked your clit into his mouth as if he was a hoover vacuum.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you knew you were seconds from coming. Without warning, you gripped his head and hugged it to your sex as you came. He moaned and slurped your flesh, accepting every drop you gave.

“Shit, shit, Shiiiit!”

If anyone busted the door down, you would have the hardest time explaining this away. There would be no way. Slowly his lips and tongue slowed their devil work, allowing you to come down. As if to keep you on your toes, he nibbled your clit every so often. The action always had you gasping, gripping his hair tighter and arching back every so slightly to finish with a satisfied moan.

When he pulled his face back, his jaw was drenched, and there was a glistening layer of your juices outlining his mouth.

“A man could get drunk off this sweet pussy, sugar lips.”

Jesus Christ, you thought as new wetness with fresh arousal washed through you. His eyes dipped between your legs, and a grin spread across his face.

“Wet for me again already?”

Your gear watched vibrated, indicating you’d gotten a message. Glancing at it, you saw Danika’s message.

MSG D: You have twenty seconds to get back, or your cover is kaput.

“Fuck,” you groaned under your breath as you began wriggling in his arms.

He lowered you to the floor then stepped back, giving you a little space. You fixed yourself as best you could and tried to ignore the wetness between your legs.

“I take it reciprocity is dead.”

You looked at him and dropped your eyes to see him holding his crotch. He was mouthwateringly hard. Part of you wanted to see what he was concealing behind those pants, but if you were caught, you knew Pablo would beat him to a pulp or worse.

“Unfortunately, there’s no time. Thank you though, I really needed that.”

You walked to the door, and as you passed him, you gently tapped his cheek.

“Glad I could be of service.”

You quickly rushed out the bathroom, and down the corridor, you’d walked down back to the main hall of the club. As you rounded the corner, you met three of Pablo’s men.

“Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” you answered with a smile before you pushed past them to make your way back over to Pablo, relishing in the decrease of tension in your body. It had been too long, indeed.

The rest of the night progressed as it usually did. Pablo finished up the business thirty or so minutes before you left. The beautiful stranger with the skillful mouth was nowhere to be found. The two of you then made your way home. While in the car, Pablo’s hand found the space between your thighs.

“I’m sorry about tonight.”

“You know if work is the only important thing to you, then maybe we need to have a conversation about where that leaves us.”

His grip tightened, making you flinch.

“Y/N, come on,” Pablo began.

“You haven't touched me in almost two months. If you’re not fucking me, who are you fucking?”

Your words were laced with hidden poison. He knew it. Instead of speaking again, you both remained silent.

When the car pulled up to your half a block townhouse, you walked ahead of him as he got updates from his men posted around the property. You were still pretty relaxed from your bathroom tryst, but you were angry with him as well. Once you made it to your shared bedroom, you stripped and got into the shower.

A little less than halfway through, you felt Pablo’s hands around your midsection. Ignoring him, you continued soaping your body and paid no mind to his growing appendage that was pressing into your back. When you were out of heels, he towered over you like a giant. He kissed your neck and down to your shoulder then brought his lips back to your neck. He knew what he was doing, and he knew you knew as well.

Pablo’s hand crept down your stomach to where your thighs met.

“Pablo--,” you warned.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry.”

Slowly his finger circled your clit, and it didn’t take long for your desire for him to unfurl.

“Let me make it up to you,” Pablo whispered before he turned you to him. he kissed you with heat, passion, and intensity, all of which you felt tonight in that bathroom. In seconds Pablo had lifted you into his arms to his height and lowered you onto his throbbing cock.

Both of you sighed, but the moment of savoring was short. Pablo took control of your body, moving you along his length with expert strength. People didn’t fear him for no reason. He was a beast of a man in stature and disposition. What started as slow deep strokes turned to frenzied shallow thrusts. You knew then this was not going to be a tender reacquaintance of your bodies. It was going to be the opposite.

Pablo pressed you against the tile of the shower and dipped his tongue into your mouth to entangle with yours. His kiss commanded your surrender. You knew when you gave in, you wouldn’t be disappointed, so you did. Pablo groaned once he felt your surrender. It was then he sunk into your heat to the hilt. The scream you let out was loud, and it only fueled him further.

Pablo pounded into you. Each time your bodies connected, the force of his stroke had your body bouncing up only to drop back onto his searing cock.

“Fuuuuuck, daddy!”

A growl escaped him before he turned and walked out of the shower to bring you back to your bed. When he dropped you onto the sheets, he flipped you onto your stomach and slammed back into you.

“Aaaah!”

“Mmm. Daddy missed you, sweetheart!”

His voice was tender, but the way he pummeled your pussy spoke of something else. He was on a mission.

“Don’t ever say that shit to me again. do you understand?”

No words. Not liking it, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back so your back had the perfect inward arch.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart. Do you—understand?”

You vigorously nodded. He was so deep you couldn’t muster any words.

“Words, Y/N.”

“Yes, daddy. Yes!”

“Good girl.”

As if this was a reward for your compliance, he rotated his hips, so you felt every inch of his desire as it marked every crevice inside of you. You doubted anyone had ever made you feel this good.

Your moans, pants, and groans melded together. The sounds filled your room, and you knew anyone outside could hear you. It turned Pablo on even more to know that everyone could hear how good he was fucking you. You didn’t care who knew how good he made you feel. When he began jackhammering into you, you saw stars and clenched around him as your orgasm violently ripped through you.

“Fuck me!”

On command, he did just that to the point where you became hoarse, and you didn’t know what day it was. When you couldn’t take another orgasm, you dropped to the bed, but Pablo kept plowing into you. His stoked became sloppy, and you knew he was close. When he came, he grunted loudly, nearly terrifying you with the loudness of it. He thrust forward as if he were trying to rip you apart. The feel of his love inside of your canal nudged you over the edge to your final release. Pablo dropped kisses along your back before he rolled off of you to lie on his back. That was how the two of you fell asleep. Both too exhausted to even cover yourselves.

The next day when you woke up, your body hummed with satisfaction. After checking your messages and emails, you took a quick shower and wrapped in one of your robes, then made your way down to breakfast. You were starving. It was a regular sight to see several of Pablo’s men through the house; you never batted an eye to it. Often times, they spoke and nodded their heads in respect as you passed, and you always reciprocated that politeness. There was no need to be a bitch.

When you made it to the dining room, you saw Pablo already sitting there. When he saw you, he smiled softly. You walked over to him and bent, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. When you began to back away, he dropped his hand to your ass and held you there to deepen the kiss. You both moaned quickly, getting lost in each other. All was forgiven.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning, baby.” Pablo kissed you once more, and as you were moving to the seat beside him, he pulled you to the space in front of him on the table. Your ass had the china clattering loudly.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m hungry.”

That was all he said before he pushed you back onto the table and spread your thighs.

“Pablo--,” you began before the rest of your sentence fluttered away once his lips connected with your sex.

A soft moan escaped you, and any protest faded. You rested on your elbows and enjoyed the feel of him between your thighs.

“Mmmm, yes, baby. Fuck, that feels so good.”

Pablo knew just what to do to set you on fire and what to do to tease you. he was in the mood to tease you. After a few minutes of teasing, you wanted more and had no problem letting him know. You gripped his head, held his hair, and began rocking your sex across his mouth. Pablo moaned and allowed you to use his face to your delight. Every few swipes, he slurped your flesh, sending shivers through your body and bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Mmm, yes, daddy, right there.” You looked at him, and your eyes met. The man was temptation. His hand crept up to grip your breast as he forcefully sucked your clit into his mouth.

The action had you remembering the bathroom at the club.

“Mmm, shit, baby. You’re gonna make me come.”

You bucked across his mouth and closed your eyes to fully enjoy the pleasure he was giving you. In a matter of seconds, Pablo’s intent shifted from teasing, and seconds later, you were coming. He moaned and lapped up every drop.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Wow, when you said to come over for breakfast, I thought you meant pancakes and eggs, not sugar and spice.”

Your eyes flew open at the new voice. From upside down, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You closed them and opened again, but the sight was the same.

“Around here, sugar and spice is the only thing ever on the menu,” Pablo replied.

He kissed your inner thigh then tapped it. Snapping out of your frozen state, you sat up, fixed yourself, and chanced a look back. As sure as the sun was shining, the stranger from last night was standing at the other end of the table with a satisfied grin on his face.

“You took your time getting over here,” Pablo said as he walked over to him.

You watched the two men embrace as manly men did. The whole time you stood there, stunned and speechless. Your boyfriend was chatting up and laughing with the man you’d allowed to bury his face between your thighs.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

On shaky legs, you walked to the two men, all the while gripping the collar of your robe.

“Y/N, meet my best friend, the one man I trust with everything next to Levi,” Pablo informed. With every word, your eyes widened.

The stranger held his hand out to you with a smile. “Lewis,” he said.

Fighting the shock, you took his hand and shook it. “Although the pleasure is all yours, I’m glad to finally meet you,” Lewis teased. You knew his words had a double meaning. Instead of speaking of it being nice to meet him too, the only thing in your head was the repetitive thought.

You’re fucked.

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Lee’s Note: Hopefully this was good, I’m still trying to find my groove again. How was this intro to Lewis and Pablo? 😬

#shadow & smoke fic #pablo schreiber #pablo schreiber fanfiction #lewis tan #lewis tan fanfiction #black fanfiction #smut

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serendipitywrites · 4 years ago

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Deceptions and Daisies (3)

sorry this took forever. my boyfriend and I are currently packing to move out of state at the end of this month. I hope a longer update makes up for it ♥

words 2,137 this chapter is pure angst. (more smut and semi fluff soon).

chapters (one, two) and if anyone is curious, this is Yunhos’ choreo song. ♥

After leaving Wooyoungs apartment that night, you woke up later to find several messages waiting for you. The sad part was that most of them were from San, since he had woken up early to see you gone he couldn’t help but panic. After reassuring him that you were fine you opened up your messages from Wooyoung.

Woo ♥ Where did you go?

Then another message from a few minutes ago

Woo ♥ Never mind, San said you’re home. I’ll call you later 😘

God. why did these messages feel so fake? Then again, at this point, your entire relationship felt fake. You didn’t feel like replying to his messages, not that he’d even reply anyway, but you truly don’t have the energy right now.

Even if you were able to get a short amount of sleep after coming home, it wasn’t by any means good sleep.

You decided since you were home, you might as well try and be a proper adult and pick up your apartment before your shift at work, and also feed clementine, your goldfish. You aren’t home enough for an animal that needed more attention, but you were perfectly happy with Clem. she makes your apartment feel more like home. Wooyoung would always tease you for referring to your goldfish as your baby, but he’d always be the first one to feed her when he was over and coo at how quickly she ate with pure excitement. Come to think of it, some of your best memories are just being here with Wooyoung. He had also made your apartment feel like home. It’s such a little and almost dumb thing but it all added up to one of the many reasons why you love him. If only loving him just didn’t feel so bittersweet at the moment.

After a few hours of attempting to ‘adult’, you dab on some tinted chapstick and put your hair up in a messy bun (which hair spray could not even save) and start heading to work. you chose to walk since it’s only a short fifteen-minutes away. The scenery always made the trip feel so quick, anyways. Walking along the river always feels so serene and comforting and that’s the kind of positivity you need in your life right now.

Your shift at the café has been pretty standard so far. Not too busy, but not too quiet. it‘s only a four-hour shift anyways, and the extra money is nice. You have a little less than an hour left when you see two familiar faces walk-in.

San and Yunho both spot you and wave with a smile, Yunho gives you his toothy smile and reaches over Sans’ shoulder to wave at you, San just nudges him off and waves again sheepishly. You grin at them, watching as they choose a table to sit at.

After serving a few more customers, San is next in line. he looks almost nervous, or shy? He fiddles with his hands for a few seconds. You shake the thought, it’s San. he’s clearly not shy. This is the same man who flexes in the mirror and brags about it.

‘Is your shift almost over?’ he asks. ‘Yeah, just a half-hour left.’ you reply hurriedly and distractedly while taking his coffee and muffin order. ‘Sit with us when you’re done? We can all head to the studio together after’ he offers.

God, just the thought of going to the studio leaves a knot in your stomach. You haven’t been there since you stumbled upon a conversation you wish you didn’t even hear.

‘I’m sure everyone is busy. I can come another day’ you answer, trying to change the subject.

San narrows his eyes, a strand of his blonde hair among his black hair covers one of his eyes. ‘Nonsense, you’re coming. Yunho has been dying to show you his new dance routine too. You pretty much have to come now’ he says hopefully.

You look over at Yunho and back to San. Feeling guilt. They’re your friends just as much as they are Wooyoungs. ‘Alright, alright. I’ll go, but for Yunho.’ you smile softly. ‘I'll see you in a little bit?’ He looks relieved that you agreed. ‘We’ll be here’ he grins and heads back to his seat.

This is all… so new. You and San went from acquaintances to friends in a little over a week. It’s not that you two weren’t friends, it’s just that he usually kept to himself. You’ve always been closest to Yunho out of Woo’s friends. But San has been a better friend to you lately than most of your own friends.

The rest of your shift goes by quickly, so you head to clock out and grab your bag.

When you make your way to their table, San and Yunho are still drinking their coffees.

Yunho offers you the rest of his muffin, while his face is covered in crumbs and you politely decline and giggle at him wiping his face. ‘So what’s this dance I need to see?’ you glance at Yunho. He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little flustered. ‘Well, uh, it’s just something I thought of. San is the one who helped me really put it together, though’

San shrugs ‘it was nothing. You did all the work, I just helped’

‘Well, I’m excited to see it’ you say then gently nudge Yunho’s shoulder.

‘Well then, shall we?’ San offers.

It’s another quick walk to the studio, you three just talking about work and university.

The studio was surprisingly empty.

You and San sit down as you wait for Yunho to set up the music

‘So, how have you been?’ he asks

‘I mean, we talked this morning. I’m fine’

‘You’re just fine?’

‘I’m good’ you correct yourself. Which doesn’t really matter, because he doesn’t look at all convinced.

He sighs ‘look, I know Wooyoung has been an oblivious ass lately.’

You want to retort but honestly what he just said is true.

‘San.. who is Hana? Should I be worried?’

He slightly stiffens at your words ‘I know of her but I’ve never met her. As far as I know, they’re just old friends’ he offers ‘but she doesn’t seem like a good person, y/n. The only reason they started talking again is… well, she’s single now.’

You feel irritation well up in your chest ‘what does that have to do with anything? Why does that matter?’ you ask seriously. You’re desperate at this point. You don’t really care how you look you just want answers.

San sags his shoulders ‘this might sound bad.. but she only talks to him when she’s single. It’s been that way since they were in high school.’

God, you feel sick. Your stomach feels queasy. Is that what this is, some cheap distraction for her? For him?

‘So, she’s a bitch’ you say flatly. San chuckles at your bluntness ‘basically’.

You two were about to talk more when Yunho got his music to play.

You and San just sat there completely enamored with the other dancer. Even the song is perfect for him and you can tell he knows that too. He’s so fluid with his movements, you can’t help but sit and watch him with stars in your eyes.

Both cheering him and seeing him try to hide his smile while dancing, you three don’t hear the door right away, but you do hear an unfamiliar high pitched giggle.

When you see them, you see this girl holding onto your boyfriends arm. She has short black hair and is taller than you. You really hate already judging her, but she looks like a cliché mean girl. Also, she is wearing one of Wooyoungs work out shirts.

Wait? What. the. Fuck.

San and Yunho glance at each other in confusion and worry before they stop his song. Wooyoung barely even notices the world around them and any other time you would have found it endearing, but now? It just bothers you.

The two new people in the room startle, yet she still clings onto Wooyoung.

‘y/n, hey!’ Wooyoung says a bit shocked but quickly gathers himself seeing the others in the room. Her arm falls away from him and Wooyoung and makes his way over to you for a hug.

You barely respond to his hug, just staring over his shoulder at this mystery girl, who you are pretty positive is Hana. Wooyoung doesn’t notice that anything is off and that’s the part that hurts the most.

San is the first to speak up. ‘What are you guys doing here?’ he asks, not hiding his irritated tone.

Wooyoung has a small smile on his face ‘oh, well Hana has asked for help with her dancing, so we’ve been practicing all day’

Well, that stings. Wooyoung always had a hard time helping you dance and after a while, you both just stopped trying.

Hana giggles, which sounds grating to your ears. ‘Wooyoung-ie is the best teacher’ she gleams and grabs at his arm to hold onto. Is this really happening right now? Really?

‘And who are you? Wooyoung has never spoken of you’ you speak up, your voice firm, not wavering. Wooyoung looks at you like you’ve done something wrong and at this point you’re close to leaving, to screaming.

‘Oh! I’m Hana. we grew up together, high school sweethearts and all that~ but no worries, that was forever ago’ she giggles at you.

San looks irritated ‘I'm teaching y/n to dance too, actually’ he says.

Wooyoung looks at both of you confused ‘really? Since when?’

‘Since now’ you blurt. Going along with his lie. Wooyoung has the audacity to look jealous at this, to look visibly irritated ‘oh, well if you need a better teacher, I’m always here, love’ he tries joking.

San looks done at this point. ‘I can take care of y/n just fine’ he stares at Wooyoung, as if making a challenge. Woo’s nostrils flare and he comes up to wrap his arm around you ‘still, I’m always here, I always will be’ he says sweetly into your hair. This would feel sweet if other people weren’t in the room and you weren’t aware of your boyfriends’ need to always win over others.

‘I’m leaving.’ you are done with this, this entire situation. You feel like you need a shower, you feel used. ‘Your dance was amazing, Yunho! I want to see all of it next time’ you try to sound cheery. He comes up and ruffles your hair in thanks. San sends you off with a small wave.

You really need to thank San later, he’s been on your side so much lately. You feel so undeserving of him.

walking out of the studio you hear footsteps, turning around you see Wooyoung jogging after you as you make it out the door. ‘Wait!’ he stops you. ‘I missed you this morning’ he reaches for your hands and tries to lace his fingers with yours.

A surge of anger courses through you. ‘Did you? Really? Because I’ve spent all day with San and Yunho. Which, San spent the entire morning making sure I was okay and home safe’ you snap, not caring at this point.

He looks surprised at your outburst ‘what are you talking about? Of course, I did. Is everything okay? Things were fine last night. I thought we had an amazing night.’ he’s staring at you in confusion.

‘We did. Our night was nice.’ you say timidly.

‘Then what y/n?’ he pleads. Instead of responding, you ask ‘why is she wearing your shirt?’ you know you look pathetic right now, you know you look desperate. You want to care, but more than anything you just want an honest answer out of him.

He looks lost for words for a moment ‘ oh.. Uh, her workout clothes got dirty. She asked if she could wear mine and I thought I was just being nice.’

You sigh ‘okay‘

‘Okay?’ he asks. ‘What are you even thinking right now? We’re just friends.’ he says with irritation. ‘I’m gonna go’ you say quietly. His normal caring look is back on his face, irritation suddenly gone. ‘I’ll call you later, okay? I love you’ he plants a soft lingering peck on your lips. ‘Get home safe, okay?’ you nod and both say your goodbyes.

Eventually, you reach home, only to collapse on your couch. Feeling nearly hungover from everything that happened today. then your phone pings with a message.

Woo ♥ I’ll drop by after work tomorrow. We’ll have all day together, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.

Even if things are as awful as they are, you can’t help but smile and feel your heart warm at his words.

Why is being in love so painful?

129 notes · View notes

imaginedxlan · 4 years ago

Text

Alpha Pt. 3 (Grayson Dolan)

a/n: I think its actually been two years since I wrote the first two parts of alpha but idc I’m actually in college now i feel like I have actual insight on how Mr. Alpha of ATO would act around y/n.

After their date, or forced casual hangout according to y/n, Grayson doesn’t necessarily keep his end of the deal.

y/r/n = your roommate’s name

warning(s): sexual allusions, cussing, drinking

(part one/part two)

_______________________________

When you return home from your, well you’re not actually sure what to call it, with Grayson, your roommate immediately sits up to see your face, looking for any indication of how your night went. She throws her chem textbook to the side and give you a look as to say well?

You close the door behind you before putting your face in your hands and taking a seat at your desk. You keep shaking your head, there is not a chance in hell you have feelings for this boy. The boy who preyed on a freshman at her very first college party. The boy who stalked you around all of your classes, got your phone number and somehow found out all about your life in the span of a week. You keep reminding yourself of the weird and uncomfortable things he’s done to distract you from the way he planned out an entire evening for the two of you, or that he actually helped you find your sister and her friends or how good he looked when the setting sun hit his tan skin in his topless Jeep only hours ago. Jesus, y/n, snap out of it.

“Come on, spill!” Your roommate begs, she had to deal with your ranting about not wanting to go all afternoon, she deserves to at least know how it went. “What did you do? What was he like? How’d he dress? Oh my god did you hook up?”

“Ew, y/r/n, no!” You gasp at her last question. How could she expect you to hookup with someone you hate? “It was fine. We ate dinner in some park then he took me to that neon sign museum. Nothing fancy, he had a shirt on which was a first. He acted nice but I don’t buy it for a second.”

“Neither,” She replies, knowing the boy only from how you’ve described him. “He’s probably just trying to get in your pants so he can bug your sister about it.”

She’s right. You can’t fall into his trap, he has ulterior motive. They always do. You just have to go on and find some boy on your floor to kiss and get him out of your head for good. Every part of you wishes your sister hadn’t broken up with her boyfriend, he would’ve given Grayson a piece of his mind if he knew that he was bothering you. Unfortunately for you and her ex, y/s/n does not like to be tied down and she needed to “have her fun” for her last first semester. You and y/r/n talk for a little while longer, about classes and whatnot, but mostly end up talking about Grayson again.

“We should go to bed.” You finally say, yawning and looking down at your phone screen that read 12:47 am. Your roommate huffs, obviously wanting to hear more about your night with the infamous Alpha Dog of ATO. “Recruitment starts tomorrow, we have to meet our groups at eight in the morning, remember?”

“I know, I know,” She replies, slipping out of her bed so she can gather her things to get ready for bed. You grab you toiletries bag as well and head toward the bathroom with her. “We’re talking about this tomorrow, don’t think I’ve let up.”

Recruitment happens over the span of four days, this weekend and next. It’s a dry rush period so no potential new members can be seen on frat property, giving you a good enough reason to avoid Grayson. Going into recruitment you’re already around ninety-two percent sure you’ll end up in Delta Gamma, just like your sister and your mom. The next few days of recruitment go well, you meet new friends from your rush group who help through the stressful process. Throughout the week you get sporadic texts from none other than Grayson Dolan wishing you luck with those days rounds, giving you unsolicited pointers of where to pref, and telling you that he saw you walking on greek row. You don’t respond to any, hoping he gives up on trying to woo you. So much for leaving you alone after one date. You pref Delta Gamma and Kappa Alpha Theta, but end up ranking DG first, not wanting to end your legacy but also because you felt you fit in most there. It was no surprise when you got a bid. Your sister is over the moon, shrieking over how her biological sister is now her deegster. You still have to get used to the lingo.

You come to find during bid day, which is Space Cowboy themed of course, that your new pledge class will be going out for bid-night with your bid day bigs. You don’t understand half of the things they’re saying to you, the language of sorority girls still lost on you. You’re added to a GroupMe with the new pledges of Alpha Tau Omega, just when you thought you could escape that fraternity as a whole, your bid night is with them. You almost immediately get a text from Grayson.

following in sissy’s steps? see you tonight miss delta gamma, anchor down ;)

What is it with him and these nicknames? You show your sister and she fake gags, saying she can’t believe he’s still texting you after all this time. She still has no idea about last weekend, you intend to keep it that way. When you get back to your dorm, you and your roommate talk all about bid day, she ended up going Kappa. Her bid night was with Phi Gamma Delta, or Fiji. If only you could have been so lucky. She can’t help but snort at the fact that you’re going to ATO tonight, she says it’s the universal pulling you and Dolan together.

Your sister won’t being coming out with you tonight, having a lab tomorrow morning that she simply cannot miss. You’re partly grateful for it, now Grayson can’t let it slip to her that you two went out together. You end up getting ready in the room of a girl of your floor who you met today at bid day, wanting to base your outfit on someone else’s to blend in as much as possible. With the massive group of girls coming into his house, surely he won’t be able to find you. You meet up with your bid day big along with the girl on your floor’s and you all walk toward the ATO house together. You’re nervous, extremely nervous, but you don’t show it. As you near the house, you’re met with the mix of conflicting basses coming from any frat basement on the block. There are a few girls waiting outside the familiar house, and thats when you see it.

Grayson Dolan at the door, personally greeting every single one of your new sisters, his eyes scanning over every single one of the freshman walking into the door, earning him plenty of groans from the older girls. You don’t mean to say anything out loud, but you let an oh god slip. Your bid day big turns to you with a confused look.

“My sisters warned me about him,” You tell her, which is half of the truth. “Real scumbag I’ve heard.”

She just laughs, not even needing to agree with you for you to know she feels the same way about him. The closer you get to the front door, the more your stomach aches. If only you could be in your dorm watching Barbie Mermaidia with your roommate like last night. You try your best to hide within the group you came with, but it’s no use, he has his single file, one over strategy down to a science.

“Hello you.” He greets you with a shit-eating grin. You hope the girls with you don’t catch him singling you out. “I’ll see you inside.”

“Fuck off Dolan,” Your bid day big calls over to him. “She’s not one of your play things.”

She pulls you inside before Grayson can say anything else. Luckily he doesn’t follow the two of you either. She gets you a drink and you socialize with the girls and some of the guys. You’re more focused on making girl friends tonight, as much as you’ve loathed your time at ATO, finding a group of girls to wander around greek row on a Saturday night is and essential part to your freshman year plan. You don’t even realize how drunk you’re getting, you follow your sister’s order to never take a cup from a brother, only ever allowing something you or one of your sisters have mixed to travel down your throat. You recall the words of your sisters earlier in the night, ‘bid night means black out ladies.’ You certainly don’t want to black out, but getting a little tipsy won’t hurt anyone. Toward the middle of the night you’re all dancing, body to body in their packed and sweaty basement. You have to admit, you’re actually kind of having fun. When you feel a pair of hands dig into your hips you don’t even flinch, simply moving your hips along to whatever shitty remix is coming from the massive speakers. You swing yourself around to face the boy and wrap your arms around his neck while his stay on your hips. You don’t recognize him, but from what you can see under the dim colored lights he’s cute. Mostly everyone in ATO is. He gives you a grin, letting one of his hands travel closer toward your ass, you don’t mind it, at least it’s not Grayson.

Grayson. Where is that boy? He said he’d meet you inside and it’s been at least an hour and a half. You don’t know why your mind is suddenly wandering off to Grayson. How he must look right now, definitely shirtless with some stupid phrase painted across his chest. How the sweat from the sheer amount of bodies in the house is probably making his tan skin glisten under the LED lights. How his hands are probably wrapped around a red solo cup so perfectly. You don’t even realize you’re biting your lip until your lips are connected with the boy you’re dancing with. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back, suddenly feeling all hot and bothered after picturing Grayson, wherever he is in this house. Snap out of it. Finding Grayson even remotely attractive would go against everything you stand for, your sister would probably smack your head to make sure there is still a brain in there.

You keep drinking, everything practically going down like water at this point. Your speech is slurring and the room spins around you. You leave the boy you’re dancing with for another drink, finding the stairs to the main floor and gripping onto the handle for dear life. You stumble towards where some boy is pouring a mystery liquid into a cup and stop in front of it. Your new drink is swiftly taken from you and placed back on the table and you’re pulled from the crowd of people.

“How much have you had to drink.” It’s Grayson. He looks so good, you think. He’s shouting over the music for you to answer him. “I’m serious y/n, I need a number.”

You try and do the mental math but the only clear thought in your brain at the moment is how good he looks with his shirt off. You start to count on your fingers but lose track at five so you just shrug. He rolls his eyes, knowing that if anything were to happen to you your sister would beat his ass like it was somehow his fault.

“Why do you care, dad.” You mock him as he tries to think about what he should do with you. “I have to drink this much, I’m in a sos-sorotity you know?”

He can’t help but laugh at the way you’re butchering the words coming out of your mouth, the slurring evident on your tongue. “Okay, miss sorotity, follow me.” He grasps your hand, interlocking your fingers and begins to pull you up another flight of stairs that you’ve never been up. This house is massive. He pulls you into a room and locks the door behind him. Even with the room spinning you can make out a few features. A bed with a white comforter that lies low to the ground, a big frame holding what looks like a yearbook page of girls, and a lava lamp.

“Is this your room?” You ask, leaning up against the wall for some stability. He just nods, fiddling with something in his drawers. “I’m not having, s-sex with you Grayson. You can’t make me.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you, sweetheart.” He mumbles back, pulling an article of clothing out of the open drawer. Once you process what he says all you can think is ouch. He’s fucked practically every girl on at this school, are you so repulsive you’re excluded from the campus wide Grayson Dolan body count? “Oh don’t be sad, I meant I’m not having sex with you tonight, y/n. Contrary to your hilarious nickname you came up with for me the first night we met, I don’t fuck drunk girls.”

You realize you may have said ouch out loud, have you been doing that all night? He’s only telling you this because he’s almost one hundred percent certain you’ll remember none of this in the morning. Between the jungle juice and natty seltzers, the only thoughts in your brain tomorrow will be getting to a toilet bowl immediately. He pulls out a shirt and a pair of boxers and tosses them your way. You don’t catch them, just start stripping your shirt off.

“Jesus, y/n, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were giving me a little strip tease.” He jokes with you, turning his head away from you, letting you keep at least part of your dignity. “Tell me when you’re done.”

“I can’t put them on, Grayson.” You whine, your drunken brain unable to comprehend how to put on a t shirt. You pick it up off the ground and hold it out for him to grab. “Help me.”

He huffs out and takes the shirt from your hands, he should at least be getting paid for babysitting you like he is. He pulls his shirt over your head and forces your arms through their respective holes. As he’s about to walk away from you again, you put and point at your shoes and jeans. He rolls his eyes and pulls both your shoes and socks of both feet before carefully undoing your zipper and shimmying the fabric off your sweaty legs, then pulling the pair of boxers over your hips. He’s usually taking underwear off girls, not putting a second pair on. His breathe hitches at the oddly intimate moment he’s sharing with you, you won’t remember any of it but he doesn’t usually do this. You suddenly feel very tired, almost collapsing on top of Grayson before he steadies your hips. He pulls back his comforter for you to slide under. You sink into his mattress and smile at your need for a bed being fulfilled. The lights shut off and you hear him unlock and open the door.

“Wait!” You call after him, making him stop in his tracks. “Can you stay?”

“You’re one needy chick when you’re drunk, huh?” He asks, walking back into the room and locking the door behind him again. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, you know that?”

You just give him a cheesy smile, not sure if he can even see you in the dark room, but you don’t care. You hear his shoes hit the ground and the bed dips next to you. You can still hear the music coming from the basement, it’s muffled but you can still make out every word. You roll over to face Grayson and he’s already looking at you.

“What’re you looking at?”

“You.”

A goofy grin graces your lips when he says it. If you were sober you’d probably protest, whack his arm or something, but now you don’t care. You let your index finger drag along his bicep, up over his shoulder and neck, around his face and then boop his nose. You can feel his face shift when he smiles.

“You have a pretty smile,” The words leave your lips before you can even think if it’s an okay thing to say. He lets out a short laugh, finding your drunk self’s inability to filter your thoughts amusing. “You’re handsome, Grayson.”

“You’re drunk, y/n.” He teases you. “You need to stop talking before you say something you regret.”

You whine, faking a pout on your lips. “I think it when I’m not drunk too.”

He can’t contain his smile, pushing a piece of hair that has fallen into your face. “We’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight, y/n.”

You wake up with a pounding headache and no recollection of last night past kissing some boy in the basement of ATO. You rub your eyes, shielding them from the light coming in the large window. Large window? This isn’t your dorm, you’re not in your bed and that is certainly not your roommate passed out next to you.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You whisper repeatedly as you try your best to slip out of the bed you’re currently in. Your shirt and jeans and shoes are strewn across the floor and your in someone else’s shirt and pants. Underwear is still on, two pairs now which is comforting. In your attempt to sneak out of whoever’s room this is you ram your knee into the dresser beside the door. “Goddamnit!”

Before you can continue gathering your things, the figure that you were just sleeping next to takes in a deep breath and let’s out a loud groan, stretching out his arms. “Y/n?”

You know that voice from anywhere, you’re so fucked. “Grayson?”

He sits up and runs his hands through his hair. The contrast of his tan skins against the white comforter is breathtaking. His hair is going in all different directions but he still looks good, how does he always looks good? His silver chain hangs loose around his neck and falls just belong his collar bone. You genuinely believe, at least physically, he is without flaws.

“Surprised?”

“Obviously I am!” You shout back, hurting your own head in the process. “Oh god, oh fuck, did we?”

“God, no, y/n.” He stops your spiralling. You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t even know you were holding. “You think I would have sex with you if I had any doubt that you would remember it in the morning? No, you were hammered and about to keep drinking and I saw where the situation was going so I room you out of it. End of story.”

“So I changed myself?”

“You were meant to, but you started whining like a three year old that you didn’t know how to put a shirt one.” He replies. You’re not really sure how to feel about it, but it’s better than the alternative. “I put your clothes on and put you to bed.”

You let out a sigh, plopping yourself back onto the bed now that you know who it belongs to. You wish you could remember last night, knowing you probably did and said some things in your drunken state that you’re sure you’ll regret if you ever hear of them. Grayson just looks at you, wondering what’s going on in your mind and thinking about what you said to him last night. How you complimented his smile and called him handsome. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. When you turn your body to face him, he scans your features. Hair a mess from both the dingy basement and the hours of sleep you just got, your mascara has collected under your eyes but you still look pretty.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You pull him from his thoughts of you, he didn’t even realize he was staring. He shakes his head and puts on his signature smirk to prevent you from thinking anything other than that he’s an asshole who’s mind is on girls 24/7. He has a reputation to keep and all.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to kiss me or something.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

“Oh fuck off, Dolan.” You scoff at him before he makes the decision to bring himself just inches from your face. So close that you can feel the warmth from his body. Your first instinct is to touch him somewhere, anywhere, but you don’t act on it. “What are you doing?”

“Just getting a better look,” He replies making your eyes roll. Anytime you think you’re letting yourself fall for him he says something gross. “Do you want me to be doing something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, y/n.”

It’s silent. There’s nothing to say. Your chest is moving up and down at a rapid pace, you’re not sure why you can’t seem to catch your breath but you can’t. His eyes flicker between your and and your lips. Before you can stop yourself you reach your hand to sit on his cheek and inch your body closer to his. The closer you get the more you can feel his hot breathe on your lips and without a second thought you bring your lips to meet his. Your brain is fuzzy and your body feels like it’s on fire but it feels right.

It doesn’t take long for Grayson to kiss you back, he’s actually shocked you gave in given the way you ignored him for weeks. He rolls over so that he can steady himself with him one arm beside you and the other gripping your waist. You can still barely breathe and he notices. He pulls away from you and give you the biggest shit eating grin. “Can believe you gave in.”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #the dolan twins #the dolan twins imagine #grayson dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins

26 notes · View notes

whatapunk · 4 years ago

Text

Holy butts I wrote a second chapter!! I am soooo thankful for everyone who liked or reblogged the first chapter because truly, truly, truly you gave me more motivation than you could possibly realize!

A couple things:

I’ve included dialogue from the s02e01 scene where Kanan and Hera have a very Han/Leia hallway argument and I definitely don’t want to take credit for such things (I only wanted to add it to help me with my flow a bit)

Right now I’m firmly trying so very hard to fit it perfectly into canon (it’s just something I like doing, idk) but eventually it might go a lil more AU, I just haven’t decided yet

This shit had me on wookieepedia searching the most random stuff, but rest assured, there is garlic in the Star Wars universe

Enjoy!

Title: Endings

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Relationship: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla; Kanan Jarrus/female OC

Rating: t for now, m in future chapters (I'm guessing) for language and some non-explicit intimacy

Word Count: 2446

Previous Chapters: Ch. 1

Chapter 2

Kanan sat on the step ladder leading up to the Liberator’s control panels. His presence was a silent mark of informality in the middle of the crew’s debriefing meeting with Commander Sato. The rest of the crew, plus Ahsoka, stood around the holo-console in the middle of the floor. Sato was saying something about the Ghost crew- his crew- but Kanan was barely half listening. For one, every other word that came out of Sato’s mouth was some military formality and, thus, not something that interested him in the slightest. But the main reason he wasn’t listening was that Rhia Denley’s image was still burned into his thoughts.

Seven years. When you hadn’t seen someone in this galaxy for seven years, you started to assume you never would again. At least, that’s how Kanan had felt.

However, suddenly she was here again- she existed again, something Kanan had tried hard to convince himself wasn’t even true. It was easier to convince himself she was something he’d imagined than for him to remember her and the way she’d crushed his young heart years ago. Besides, thinking about that heartache had always made him feel guilty once Hera was in his life. Now, however, he was feeling so many things he didn’t even have room for guilt.

What he did have room for was a hefty amount of bitterness, and for more than one reason. First of all, he was already bitter before Rhia showed up; he’d hardly hidden his feelings and had become almost spiteful about how they had been sucked into a military operation. But even that wasn’t totally separate from his thoughts about Rhia.

Rhia and Kanan had become a “thing” on Gorse, very soon after Kanan had set up what passed as a life there. Their meeting was by chance, but they had run into each other briefly when he was even younger and worked with a smuggler named Janus Kasmir. It was actually Rhia who told him about low-profile jobs on Gorse then, so he wasn’t altogether surprised that she ended up there eventually too. While he wasn’t much more than a kid when they first met, when they reconnected on Gorse, he was older and far more interesting to Rhia. They quickly became infatuated with one another for the better part of four months, which was practically a lifelong commitment to Kanan. Before Hera, Rhia was the longest relationship he’d ever been in.

Rhia, however, had bigger goals than being a bartender’s girlfriend and working as a miner on Cynda. Rhia, much like Hera, was interested in the Rebellion. She’d made this clear early on, but she didn’t try to preach to Kanan, and he’d liked that about her. However, once she’d found a connection to a group of Rebels on the Holonet, she had tried- more than once- to get him to come with her. That’s what made running into her here, of all places, all the more exasperating and awkward. He’d ended up here anyway, despite his countless protestations- and he didn’t even want to be.

Seeing Rhia again reminded him, among other things, of all of the reasons he told her he didn’t want to join the Rebellion. And that reminded him that they were all still true.

Kanan heard Sato say something about the Spectres being “invaluable,” and then suddenly Chopper burst into the meeting, much to Commander Sato and Hera’s dismay. He was going on about an emergency incoming transmission, and, frankly, Kanan welcomed the change. His bitterness with this situation, this Rebellion- this meeting had reached its peak.

***

Less than ten minutes later, Kanan’s bitterness had already gotten him into trouble, and with Hera, no less.

After telling Chopper to play his transmission during a “secret debriefing,” Hera had scowled at him for the rest of the meeting. He’d tried to rush out and get out of her line of fire once they were dismissed, but she’d caught him in the hallway and firmly let him know he wasn’t authorized to do that.

“Authorization! Procedure! That’s what’s bothering me!” he’d raised his voice, uncaring of the people that were attempting to walk past them as they argued.

Hera put her hands up gently, sighing at having finally gotten him to drop the passive aggressive quips about their work lately. It wasn’t hard to guess what had been bothering him, but he was a grown adult who should be able to talk to her, of all people.

“All right. Talk to me,” she said, lowering her voice. Kanan sighed and did the same.

“After this mission, I want us to go back on our own,” he said firmly. “Fighting alongside soldiers isn’t what I signed up for.” At that, Hera frowned at him and shoved him into an open doorway, pointing a gloved finger in his face.

“You seem to be forgetting these soldiers helped save your life,” she said, looking at him with those big eyes that could be both demanding and softening at the same time. After that remark, he couldn’t meet them.

“And I’m grateful,” he started, “but that doesn’t mean I want to join their little army. When you and I started together, it was ‘Rob from the Empire, give to the needy,’ a noble cause. Now we’re getting drawn into some kind of military thing! I don’t like it.”

Somehow Hera’s voice became more serious and more earnest.

“We are fighting a bigger fight, but it’s still the right fight,” she said, all but pleading with him to understand that they’d been fighting in the name of the Rebellion all along. Kanan wasn’t having it.

“I survived one war. I’m not ready for another one,” he said, turning away from her. She grabbed his arm. “I saw what it did.”

“To the Jedi?” she asked, almost whispering. He looked back at her.

“To everyone.” He left the doorway and continued walking down the hall, hearing Hera’s exasperated sigh behind him.

Kanan loved virtually everything about Hera, even her flaws. She was incredibly stubborn, but since he was so go-with-the-flow, it never really got in their way. In fact, it practically complimented his own personality. She would get adamant and obsessed over something, and he would follow her anywhere and do anything she asked of him. At least, that’s how things had gone for them for the past seven years, right up until the formal Rebellion had rescued him from the Grand Inquisitor. Now it was suddenly a reality of Kanan’s world that he was part of a military operation and that could only lead to one thing: war.

Hera had been familiar with war her whole life, but not in the same way Kanan had. He’d fought in battles as a young teen alongside his master, Depa Billaba and seen the realities of it all over the galaxy. Hera’s own world was war-torn, for sure, but her role in that war was far different than Kanan’s. For the first time since he’d met her, he felt like she was incapable of understanding him.

Kanan headed to the only place he really wanted to be right now: his quarters on Ghost. He felt like meditating, if only for the quiet. He lost himself in his thoughts there for maybe an hour, and eventually his sour attitude had at least subsided. He remembered his harsh tone with Hera and his obvious instigation of Chopper in the meeting. He still didn’t care about what Sato thought, but he felt bad for making Hera look bad. Now, it felt like such a childish thing to have done.

He left his quarters and, once seeing the Ghost was still empty, he went back out into the bay. It was less busy now, as most of the cargo that littered the area earlier had been taken elsewhere by now. His eyes scanned for Hera; he knew he should apologize to her. When he didn’t see her, or any of the Spectres, he set off down one of the hallways that he believed led to the commissary. He hadn’t taken the time to get to know his way around this ship (by design) so he honestly had no clue where to start looking for her. He’d gone pretty far without seeing anything resembling a commissary and was about to turn around when an amazing aroma hit him and made his stomach growl: garlic.

Something told him to follow the smell, which led him down a corridor that opened up to a large galley. Standing in front of a pan sizzling on the stove, as Kanan had expected, was Rhia. She looked up at him, surprised, but then smiled.

“I should have known this would attract you,” she said with a smirk, then turned her attention back to the sizzling pan, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me here,” Kanan added, grabbing a seat at an empty table near the stove. “You know how I feel about your cooking.” She looked up and grinned at him.

“The same way everyone does,” she said, confidently. She left the pan and attended to a cutting board with what looked like an onion and some kind of pepper on it.

Kanan’s stomach growled again. Rhia was an amazing cook and loved every piece of food he’d ever seen her hold. She only ever ate ration bars or drank nutritive milk when she absolutely had to. Otherwise, she kept her own stock of spices and quality ingredients and went well out of her way (and budget) to get fresh produce. Kanan’s mind drifted back to memories of watching Rhia cooking in her kitchen on Gorse. He remembered breakfast with eggs and some sort of mushroom, watching her move her hands skillfully around knives and pans and the ingredients, often wearing nothing but-

“So,” Rhia started, pulling Kanan out of his memory. “You finally joined the Rebellion.” Kanan’s brow wrinkled.

“What do you mean by finally?” he asked, already feeling himself becoming defensive. Rhia rolled her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, slicing into her pepper, grinning.

“And no, I did not join anything,” Kanan said, putting extra emphasis on “I” and jabbing his thumb to his chest. She looked back up at him as she scraped ingredients from her cutting board to the pan.

“That was Hera Syndulla, wasn’t it? Captain of the Ghost? You’re part of Ghost crew, right?” she pressed, confused. Kanan was more than a little surprised.

“You’ve heard of us?” Kanan asked, his vanity getting the better of him and nearly allowing a smile to creep onto his face. Rhia rolled her eyes again and laughed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kanan. I’ve heard of Captain Syndulla, not her first mate,” she joked, laughing more at the fall of Kanan’s expression. Then realization struck her. “Wait, are you the one we just blew up a star destroyer for?” Kanan grimaced.

“Yes, but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t tell them to- and it was Chopper who-” Rhia held her hand up, seeing him getting defensive.

“Kanan, I don’t really know anything about what happened. I wasn’t here for it, I just heard about it. I was on a freighter headed to a rendezvous. I don’t even know who Chopper is,” she said, going back to her pan.

“He’s our droid,” Kanan said flatly. “Anyway, my crew performed the rescue. I was aboard Tarkin’s destroyer.” Rhia looked up at him again, this time a little more serious.

“What was that like?” she asked.

“Not fun.”

Rhia didn’t push the topic further. She grabbed a pan of noodles that had been sitting over to her right and mixed them into the skillet with some oil. Kanan was suddenly fascinated by the chipped edge of the table in front of him.

Satisfied with the meal in front of her, Rhia reached into a cabinet behind her and pulled out two plates and then matched them with two forks. She set them out on the table Kanan was sitting at and then divided the noodles in half. Before she sat down, however, she went back to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses. When she set them down the table Kanan looked up at her, arching his eyebrow. She went to a backpack that sat on the floor behind the counter and pulled out a glass bottle with no markings and a familiar light brown liquid sloshing inside. She poured herself a drink, placed the mouth of the bottle over his glass and paused, looking at him, silently offering the drink.

“I can’t think of what goes better with your dinners,” he said, and she poured.

As soon as Kanan took a bite, his memories were triggered all over again. He was pretty sure he’d never even eaten this specific dish before, given her access to such a wide variety of ingredients. But it didn’t matter. Rhia’s meals were memorable for some sort of shared quality that bound them all together, even when they were drastically different. Not only that, but he realized how long it had been since he’d eaten, and how much longer it had been since he’d eaten something of this quality. For a few minutes they ate in silence, Kanan unavailable for any and all conversation. Eventually, Rhia spoke.

“So explain to me how you haven’t joined the Rebellion?” Kanan sighed, but the food had made him quite amenable to discussing just about anything. He did, however, take a drink before he replied.

“I didn’t know we were a cell. I didn’t know there were cells. Hera was the only one who spoke to Fulcrum and knew of the larger operation. I found out when I was… rescued,” Kanan ended quietly. Rhia could tell that being rescued and needing so much from so many, made him uncomfortable.

“That had to be quite a shock,” she said, sensing the need for a new subject. “So you and Hera, when did you two meet?” she asked. Kanan looked at her, surprised. He could tell by the way she asked, she knew that they were together. Rhia gave him a “give me a break” look.

“Kanan, really- my ‘pilot’? Shit, I’ve seen explosions that were more subtle.” She chuckled and took another drink, emptying the glass. Kanan did the same. Rhia offered up the bottle again.

“Another?”

Kanan looked at it, hesitating. He hardly drank at all anymore, let alone like he did when they were living on Gorse. However, depending on where this conversation was going to go, Kanan felt like he would need something more than blood in his veins.

“One more.”

#they bout to get wreckddd #not really #but maybe #star wars #star wars rebels #rebels #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanera #endings

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mother-snake · 4 years ago

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self preservation

@idkanameatall enjoy the angst!

to everyone, ask and the next story i write i shall tagg you if youd like so you dont miss out!

(sorry for this lengthy boi. Also, my cat missy says hello

Word count- 3769)

angst. very angsty and i dont know what else to put as a warning cause i wrote 90 precent of this around two weeks ago... please say if there is something im missing... :P

- janus helps the others but can they help him, thast baiscaly the plot-

The first person to get a slight feel for Janus’s intentions was Logan.

He had huddled himself into his room for a couple days, trying his best to make a schedule that he knew would just end up being forgotten by the others. his computer screen was blank. He hadn’t even started. The knowledge of the fact that it wasn’t going to be used stopping him. Why should he do this if it will just be disregarded? he knew they wouldn’t listen to him I he just asked for them to try and stick to the plan. They would only ignore and apologise. He’d forgive them and it would continue like that.

His eyes were heavy. He hadn’t felt like this in a long while. Not since Thomas was a teenager, when he was always being worked overtime.

He was fine. He was going to be okay. They would listen this time.

It was then that he sensed the other presence in his room. He didn’t need to turn to know that the deceitful side was there. It was six, he would always visit around this time every other day.

But when he looked at the time, he knew it was for another reason. It was three in the morning, and he had visited yesterday. so why was he here?

“lying to yourself I see Logan,” he let out a sigh, “get some rest, you’ve been in here for four days,” “I can’t, I need to get this done,” Logan muttered to himself as he stared at the screen. “Logan, your over worked, you’re tired. Continue this tomorrow, it will still be here when you wake up,” the scale covered side closed over the computer screen and stared at the logical side with a small smile.

It was then that Logan realised he had actually started crying.

Janus held a hand out to the other who took it thankfully. His legs shook as he tried to stand up. the bed looked enticing to him. He was hit by a wave of pure tiredness.

He didn’t remember falling asleep? he felt something giving off a small amount of heat and tucked himself closer. He heard a small chuckle. That wasn’t normal. he cracked his eyes open to be met with Janus smiling at him. Oh… he forgot about the other side.

He locked gazes with the other side for couple seconds before looking away with a small blush. “how do you feel?” Janus asked. “I… don’t feel anything” he stated. “that’s a lie, try again Logan,” “I… I feel better,” he did feel better, just a little bit drained but not as much as he did yesterday.

Half an hour later they were downstairs in the kitchen. Logan being the earliest up wouldn’t be a surprise to the others, but Janus still lived over in the dark side. he had always wondered what it was like over there. He wondered if it looked anything like the light side’s commons. How many other dark sides where there.

For the first time as the kitchen light flickered on, he caught something familiar the other side was wearing. Several things actually.

“is that Virgil’s old hoodie?”

The back hoodie was one he wouldn’t forget. The green fabric around his neck acting like a scarf he recognised as Remus old sash. It was bizarre to see. But he didn’t mind.

“yes, he gave it to me when he changed his outfit,” Janus spoke as he grabbed two bowls from the coubard.

“so, the scarf I take it was Remus old sash?” he only got a nod in response.

The deceitful side put a bowl of chocolate pebbles in front of Logan who sat down at the table. The other side had a bowl of krispies. Oh, he hoped that roman didn’t think it was him that stole his cereal again.

The two ate in silence. Both found it quite pleasant, but for two different reasons.

One because he hated how loud the others could get, the other because he had some company, something he hadn’t had in a very long time.

By the time the others had come down the stairs, Janus had long gone knowing they wouldn’t take too well to his company. A small part of him was upset that the other wouldn’t stay longer.

Patton had been the first to arrive. He smiled as he saw Logan sitting at the table. the next two to come down were the twins. Both giving a loud hello to the others in the room. the last one up was Virgil. Upon entering the room, he could feel the slightly heightened anxiety coming from the logical side. He gave Patton a quick look. He must have sensed something too.

Logan looked round the now busy room and made his way over to the exit. He was aware that Virgil had left after him. So when he was tapped on the shoulder and turned to see the anxious side he just stared. “you okay specks?” “what do you mean Virgil?” “well… I can feel your anxiety coming off you for one and second you were staring at the door for a while,” “oh, I see. I didn’t mean to stare, just have a lot on my mind, still got the schedule to finish,” his voice ending in a whisper.

Virgil looked at the other. He rarely showed emotion, this must have been affecting him.

“well, take a break and watch a movie?” Virgil began, “ill let you pick,”

It wasn’t noticeable, but a small smile appeared on his face, “that sounds reasonable,”

If he had arrived in his room, he would have caught deceit sitting at his desk for a while with a smile on his face. He could feel the others emotions falling back into place from there.

The next was Patton. He had been known for stress baking. Every night instead of sleeping he would bake cookies. The unfortunate part of that today was the fact he had enough cookies to feed a small village.

He grumbled as he looked at the enormous pile of chocolate chip cookies, peanut flapjacks and muffins. A thought crossed his mind.

Thus, he picked up a tuber-ware box and began to fill it as much as possible.

When he knew he could get no more into it he proceeded to make his way somewhere he hadn’t thought he would ever go. the door to the dark side was black with one panel of yellow glass, but it was to blurry to see anything on the inside. He could hear however what sounded like a movie playing.

He gave the door a quick knock. The noise stopped and replaced by shuffling, the door creaked open and he was met with a yellow eye. “why aren’t you here Patton?” the voice was smooth. “I brought you something, I hope you don’t mind,” he scratched the back of his head as he lifted the rather large container up a little.

The other side looked surprised before he opened the door the rest of the way and gestured the other to come inside. he gingerly made his way and was immediately hit with the smell of fresh bread and coffee. It was a welcoming smell.

“would you like some tea?” the other asked.

Not wanting to be rude he gave a small nod. “just set it down on the coffee table, I’ll be back in a minuet,”

True to his word he came back with a cup of tea. It was also then that Patton had seen what he was wearing. A smile appeared as he saw the dark sides toothless wonzie. It made sense, he was half way through the second movie. “you like how to train your dragon,” Patton grinned “what gave it away?” he passed the tea over and opened the box of goodies pulling out a muffin.

He grabbed the blanket and pulled it over the both of them. Patton smiled at the gesture. Soon the movie was back on. as it continued, he could hear Janus mutter almost every line that played. Then when the credits came, he sang the song. the third movie was put on. He could feel the others emotions. It was mainly happy but he could feel a deep sadness. “you okay kiddo?” he whispered. “of course, just don’t like the fact it’s the final movie, knowing it’s going to end hurts I suppose, but at least I can reply the movies,” Patton pondered that for a second.

When the movie ended Janus and Patton were both in tears. But both eventually calmed themselves. “I must ask Patton, what was the real reason you’re here?” Janus asked to the other. “don’t tell the others, but I tend to bake when I can’t sleep and I made far too much today,” Patton said. he shifted his gaze away from the others inquisitive gaze. “well the, perhaps next time if you’d like, we could do this again?” Janus spoke. “would you be alright with that? I don’t want to wake you by accident,” Patton responded. “it will be perfectly fine Patton, now I suggest you head to bed and try to get some sleep,” the window behind the tv showed that sunbeams were beginning to peak over giving the room a slight yellow huge. “alright kiddo, same goes for you, you need some sleep too,”

A couple minuets later he was back in his room. He practically collapsed as he made his way to his bed. The softness of the sheets lulling him to sleep.

Roman was the next. he hadn’t spoken to Janus since that incident around a month ago. it was two days after then that Remus had moved his room. But the two had connected together. Remus right now was in the imagination. Leaving him sitting in the shared room.

A sigh left his lips as he looked around the room. He just didn’t know. He wanted to apologize for making fun of the others name. but he didn’t know if he was ready to face the other. Logan, Virgil and Patton were busy as of right now, so he could easily watch some Disney for now.

That is how he found himself staring in the light sides living room at a familiar figure watering the few plants that lay around the room. he stood still for a couple second. this was fine.

“I could hear that lie from over here,” he groaned, “don’t worry ill leave if you want me to,” his voice was softer than normal, his gloved hands picked away at the bottom of his lose shirt.

“its fine, actually I would like to speak to you, if you don’t mind,” roman spoke.

Janus just sighed in response and sat down on one of the armchairs. roman sat near on the sofa, not really sure where to start. “well… I suppose I should say sorry,” roman began hesitantly, “I’m sorry I made fun of your name, that wasn’t my best moment,”

Roman shifted as the other stared at him.

“you shouldn’t be the one to apologise roman,” Janus muttered,” I was the one who manipulated you, I pushed you further than I should have. I also apologise for what I said after, I know that it was a dirty move,”

The two sat there for a while. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. But they both felt slightly better. Not as good as before but still better none the less. the silence was interrupted by Remus yelling. He was coming close. “well then, best be on my way,” Janus smiled at the other weakly. “id like to talk to you later if you wouldn’t mind Janus,” roman said, “I’d like to try out some scripts?”

The deceitful side nodded, and as soon as Remus was in the room, the other side seemed to vanish.

Later that night, they were setting up the table. Roman stared at the table. A couple seats were empty. Not enough people to fill them up. he stood still for a couple seconds too long. Logan and Patton who had been cooking and were just beginning to put the food on the table looked between each other with worried looks. “are you okay roman?” “yes, I was just wondering if we could perhaps invite our resident snake?” their shocked looks didn’t go unnoticed. “you two have talked then,” Logan stated, getting a nod in response. “very well the, go quickly,”

Roman excitedly made his way down the halls of the mind palace. He didn’t forget where the door was. He remembered when he was younger, he used to sneak here to play with Remus.

Then the door was there. The door had changed. Instead of three different coloured glass panes there was only one.

He quickly knocked on the door. It opened a couple seconds later with Janus standing looking confused at the other. Mildly confused as he was grinning.

“I am here to invite you to dinner my good sir,” roman said as he outstretched his hand. “do the other know you’re here?” “Logan and Patton do, if that’s what you mean,” “fine, but I can leave if I want to,” he took the others hand.

The walk was silent. The noise from the kitchen getting louder. He could feel deceit start to freeze up. he gave a quick squeeze as they continued on walking.

They arrived there sooner than they imagined. Patton noting deceit gave quick wave, Logan did the same and gestured for them to sit. the previous dark sides hadn’t been facing the two so when they turned to see the scales of the other, they immediately went silent watching his every move.

Janus sat down in an empty seat next to Logan, but opposite to roman. The ex-darks only sent sharp glares to the scaled one.

The dinner was quiet, no one spoke, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. Eventually Janus stood up, he gave a quick goodbye before he left. Virgil let out a sigh of relief as he left the room. Remus relaxed as well. Logan looked at roman with the same expression with one another. The plate that Janus had been eating from was barely halfway eaten.

The two seemed to have a small eye discussion before Logan stood up and left as well.

The day went on semi normal from then on. Roman glanced back to where the logical side had disappeared.

It was the next day that he saw the logical side, he was sitting in the kitchen once again. A book he hadn’t seen before in his hands. The words were covered but he did manage to find a name ‘the maze runner’.

He wasn’t normally up this early, Patton would be up before hand most days, but occasionally this ended up happening.

Thomas was the next. This day was different than normal. He had meant to go on a date. But when he had arrived there was no one there, two hours later and no one had arrived.

So now he was sitting in the living room watching steven universe trying to ignore the feelings that were creeping up on him. so he was rather surprised when he felt a weight sit down next to him. He had thought it was Patton so he didn’t really mind. But if had turned to look he would have seen a figure in a black wonzie.

He was just staring at the screen, not really watching. He felt and arm wrap around him and the figure pulled him close to their chest. His eyes felt heavy as he leaned into the soft comfort of whoever I was. soon he was fast asleep.

When he woke up, he was still lying on the sofa. It was then that he realised there was someone he was using as a warm pillow. as he cracked his eyes open, he tilted his head up to meet the face of a sleeping snake boi. to say he was surprised was an understatement, but he didn’t move in fear of waking the other side up accidentally. Thus, he stayed unmoving for another thirty minutes. it was when he felt the other shift did, he realise the other had begun to slowly wake up. Thomas sat upright to give the other some space. it was then that he realised the other was waring a wonzie as well. A toothless one that seemed to be one size to big. he smiled as the other muttered a quick good morning.

“how long were you there Janus?” Thomas asked. “since last night, you were unknowingly lying to yourself and summoned me,” he yawned. “oh sorry for that then,” “no need, I wasn’t really doing much in the first place.”

Thomas stood up and clambered over to the kitchen and took two bowls out of the coubard. When he turned to ask the other what he wanted, he found no one there. he looked at where the other had previously been and began to worry. A small part wondering what the other was planning… but another part happy that he had been there for him. maybe in the future he could repay that.

Remus… oh how he missed his friend. He was angry at himself for messing up what once had been a chaotic friendship. he knew his words would have an effect on the other the moment he would hear the words that had been spat like venom.

Virgil, he wouldn’t be surprised if his mother and son relationship had been torn beyond repair. He missed his dark shadow. Wished he could take those words back from their final meeting. But alas, the other wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction anymore.

And that’s how he found himself curled up on his bed crying silent tears. He had been doing this well… it was the only thing he could do. He barely had anyone. The light sides were only just warming up to him along with Thomas. and yet his room unlike the others stayed still. And he knew why.

Virgil and Remus, they believed that the others had accepted them. They knew they had been.

Janus knew he wouldn’t be. No matter what was spoken. No matter who said the words. He was deceit. Lying was always wrong. His scales were hated. He was hated.

Then the tug. That tug he had never felt before but Virgil had described it long ago. he was being summoned. He ignored it. He wasn’t wanted. They were just going to throw his ideas to the ground and say he was lying.

Then the tug came back a little stronger. And again, and again.

He tried his best to compose himself as Soon he couldn’t block the feeling anymore and could feel himself being pulled into the real world. He appeared in a spot next to the stairs. Logan was next to him looking at the other with a slight worried look. One you’d find if you payed close attention.

He took a deep breath before it hitched as he looked around the room. Everyone was looking at him. “may I ask why you weren’t so insistent on summoning me?” he said. “we were wondering if you were okay, we hadn’t seen you in a while and we were getting concerned,” Thomas stated, worry laced in his voice. “I’m fine, I assure you,” Janus said staring at the other.

“see I told you snake face was fine,” grumbled Virgil on the stairs. Janus winced at the harsh words. They had all seen it however, the small flinch as Virgil verbally attacked his scales.

“Janus?” Patton mumbled. “I’m FINE.”

Everyone looked wide eyed at the others outburst. Even Remus and Virgil. It wasn’t often they had seen this type of emotion coming off the other. Virgil could feel the intense spark of anxiety that had filled him as he spoke.

Remus heard his thoughts. His mother figure… god if he could stab everyone other than Janus then he definitely would.

Patton could feel the sadness roll of him the moment he had appeared. But now it was so visible it made him take a breath that he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

Logan looked at the other with wide eyes. Not expecting the only other functioning braincell to have such an outburst.

Roman just felt guilt. He knew that this was long overdue. He knew the other wasn’t fine. He knew how easy it was to hide under a facade of fake emotion. That sooner or later it would overwhelm.

“I’m sorry,” Janus whispered. he had begun to sink down when I hand caught his arm. His eyes snapped to see the logical side before being pulled into a hug by him. His embrace was tight. Janus only cried at the warmth and comfort of the other. then he could feel another join. He didn’t look up. but only cried harder. He hugged Logan back ad best as he could.

Soon he was sure that a couple more had joined in the cuddle pile.

His eyes were heavy, but he was waking up? his eyes opened, he was sandwiched between Logan and Virgil. The ex-dark had his head tucked in the crook of his neck. Logan had an arm wrapped around his waist.

Patton and roman were on the other side of the couch. Thomas was lying with his head in Patton’s lap. Remus was spread like a starfish on the floor.

He mentally freaked out for one or two minuets before the events of yesterday came pooling into his mind. ah, they had fallen asleep watching how to train your dragon.

Everyone else was still asleep. And he knew he couldn’t move. But one thing had crossed his mind. A happy thought he hadn’t been able to think in months. was he accepted? Well, he would wait for now.

And if later he had gone back into his room and open his door, he would find a hall filled with other multi coloured doors. Well, he would smile wide and join the others for breakfast and attempt to strike a conversation with Logan, and it would lead to Virgil and Remus laughing so hard that they would fall to the ground in tears. Patton and roman would only look on in confusion. But they would still be smiling.

After all their famILY was complete.

#Janus sanders #Roman sanders #Sander sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #Virgil sanders #patton sanders #angst #janus angst #i need a nap #please enjoy #hello there #dark sides #light side

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beardycarrot · 4 years ago

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Alright! Now that I’ve finished Aliens Ate My Homework (kids’ books really are just a couple hour read for an adult, huh?), I have in mind some things that I think are important for the movie adaptation to stick to.

The look of the characters should be the easiest thing to nail... their outfits probably won’t match what’s described in the book (movies always feel the need to change that in some capacity), but I don’t really care about that. What I’m more interested in is how they portray the less humanoid characters. Pong, Grakker, and Snout can all be played by actors in costumes, but Tar Gibbons is described as having a lemon-shaped body with four legs, a long neck, and a turtle-like head with bulging bug eyes; that’s gonna be a fully CG character.

The other is Phil, a potted plant. Basically a big stalk covered in leaves and vines, with a flower where a head would be, who moves around with thrusters on his pot. He has a symbiotic relationship with creature called Plink, described as kind of a blue cat-monkey. I really like how this illustration portrays it; even if it looks more like some kind of cartoonie bug, I would be perfectly happy if this is the design the movie goes for. These two are also going to be fully CG, so unless they base it entirely on the description provided for Plink, base its design on an illustration from another artist, or just do their own thing with it, I can’t imagine them finding a way to mess these designs up... but who knows.

BKR, the evil alien, should be interesting. He’s described as having blue skin, pale orange spikes covering his head (I was picturing maybe a dozen four-inch-long spikes, but the spike density could also be interpreted as covering his head like hair), and... otherwise, looking like Shirley Temple? That’s gonna be interesting, but this is also the character I expect them to take the most liberties with. I can’t say why... maybe just from experience with this kind of adaptation.

There are a few major plot points that I think they have to adhere to. First, that the good aliens’ ship is malfunctioning (the illustrations portray the ship as a traditional flying saucer, but I don’t think the design matters much) and they’re stuck shrunken to two inches tall until the end. That’s... basically the only reason for Rod, the protagonist, to be involved. The aliens need to repair their ship, so Rod has to carry them around to investigate BKR.

Secondly, they need to eat his homework. It doesn’t have to be the papier mache volcano and math assignment portrayed in the book, but, I mean, it IS the title of the movie.

Grakker and Snout have an unspecified relationship... Snout is very, VERY clearly based on Spock from Star Trek (in fact, I think the third book in this series is called The Search for Snout, a play on the third Star Trek movie, The Search for Spock), so it might just be a close friendship, but they share a room on the ship while everyone else has their own, so who knows. At one point it’s mentioned that they’re “bonded”. Potentially Gayliens. I don’t remember what their relationship is like in later books.

Next, Rod is incapable of lying. There definitely won’t be a flashback to the traumatizing-to-a-toddler reason for it, but that’s Rod’s defining characteristic: he doesn’t, and can’t, tell lies. Who knows whether that will be included.

Finally, Rod’s dad having been missing for quite a while isn’t a huge part of the story, but it does play an important role. Him lying to Rod’s mom strengthened Rod’s inability to lie (you’re not told what the lie was, but it’s implied that this was the night he left), and towards the end of the story BKR claims to know where he went, and implies that he’s no longer on Earth. I don’t remember if this is a plot point in future books, but Bruce Coville did something pretty similar in My Teacher Flunked The Planet, so it could be. This is the kind of thing that adaptations will just arbitrarily change, though, so who knows.

So! With all that out of the way, it’s time to watch the movie!

...Okay, first thing’s first, the opening credits of the movie are set to shots of a model solar system, so I’m assuming that’s the replacement for the volcano. I’ll allow it. Also, William Shatner is in this movie? What? As who?? The only adult male character in the story is an android of a man in his thirties, and he’s only there for what would amount to two minutes of screen time at the end. Rod’s grandfather is mentioned, but only once, in the context of “this is my grandfather’s farmland”.

Alright, definitely a modern setting. I guess the model isn’t for a science fair, instead being something Rod’s filming on his smartphone with his mom, twin siblings, and... his dad. Now, this looked like is was going to be an adaptation fail, but it turns out this was a flashback to the night he went missing. Clever!

Less clever is this abysmal color grading meant to represent a dark and stormy night, and the fact that they live in a cul-de-sac instead of being out in the middle of some farmland... but that’s not that significant of a change.

For some reason the story now takes place in the winter instead of mid-May, making me wonder where BKR (in the guise of Billy Becker) is getting the bugs to smash against Rod’s head. More importantly, as revealed at the end of the book, most intelligent life in the universe is about three feet tall, which is why BKR is pretending to be a kid while hiding on Earth. Instead of being a foot shorter than Rod, however, he’s now taller. Weird. Rod also now has his cousin Elspeth staying with his family for winter break, for... literally no reason that I can think of. Elspeth is a character from the second book in the series, but she wasn’t even mentioned in the first.

Grakker isn’t quite book-accurate, but not entirely inaccurate either... except for the color of his skin. He’s supposed to be green. What the hell. They whitewashed an alien. On the upside, the dialog in this scene is all pretty book-accurate. Unfortunately, they lose a lot of points with Madame Pong, who is supposed to be a very calm, understanding, zen character... but comes across as a little condescending. Also, this:

What? What?? Why did they keep this book dialog, when the house is VERY CLEARLY part of some kind of housing development area? I legitimately have no idea what they were thinking.

I also have no idea what’s going on here. Elspeth is... I guess looking through family photos on a computer? Ignore the subtitles, that’s from a weather report on tv. What I’m curious about is what exactly is going on in the photo. That’s clearly Rod’s dad, from three years ago... but recent pictures of the twins? Did Rod’s mom, who apparently runs a pet photography business, Photoshop a family ski trip that never happened? Is that what’s being implied here??

We’re then introduced to the rest of the aliens, and... wow, I can’t describe my disappointment. Remember how I said Tar Gibbons and Phil would be fully CG characters? Yeah, that, uhh... that didn’t happen. I was hoping they would do as much of this movie with practical effects as possible, but I meant that in the “get good SFX people” way, not the “do everything as cheaply as possible” way. They’re literally both just guys in suits.

Yeah sure eye stalks and a thick neck are absolutely the same thing as bulging eyes and a long neck. More importantly, look at that clearly human body with extra legs just kinda hanging off the hips. Phil is just as bad. You can’t really tell from still frames, but yeah, he has two vines with leaves coming off of his human-body-proportioned stalk at shoulder level and moves like a guy in a suit... and for some reason, his flower is split into halves so that it can be puppeteered to move like a mouth. Despite the fact that in the book his flower doesn’t even play a part in communication. They could’ve easily just installed a light inside the flower and explained that he communicates through pod burps, and would’ve been perfectly book-accurate. Why make this specific change. Also, if you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering where Snout is. Yeah, uh. Me too.

Anyway, they appear to have combined the characters of BKR and Arnie into one person to simplify things (but then why introduce Elspeth??), and for no readily apparent reason, changed BKR, which is pronounced how you would expect, into B’KR, pronounced... b’car. For no reason.

Good GOD is this movie cheap. I appreciate the set they created for the top of Rod’s desk, with the giant pencil and such, and obviously they’re going to use a green screen for scenes like this... but it looks SO bad in motion. Like, see how the shot ends at his knees? That’s because he’s very obviously running in place, in front of a green screen. Also, why are sixth graders learning about the Drake Equation, which concerns the statistics relevant to intelligent alien life in the universe, in math class? I guess it’s technically a math topic, but not the kind of thing you’d learn in pre-algebra...and for comparison, Rod’s math homework consisted of single-digit multiplication tables, the kind of thing you do in like, second grade.

I’m also not fond of the degree to which Grakker is a comic relief character. Like... throughout the book, he’s completely strict and serious, and most of the comedy comes from Phil, Gibbons, and Rod. The first time you see genuine emotion from him is when Rod accidentally injures Snout, causing Grakker to hold him tenderly and shed a tear (again, potential Gayliens).

This is supposed to be the inside of a thick black canvas backpack. Am I crazy? Did I not see the Universal Studios logo at the start of this movie? Why does it look like the cheapest of cheap made-for-tv movies? Anyway. They appear to have given Snout’s ability to slow time to Madame Pong, which is worrying. Did they just... remove Snout, one of most important characters in the entire book series? To what end? To fit in all the stupid pointless Elspeth stuff? If they were hoping to make sequels to this movie, well... bad news, because again, the third book in the series is called The Search for Snout. Okay, I gotta know, is he actually cut from the movie or just a surprise reveal for later?

Alright, I am now officially dragging this movie. Also, I guess we now know where William Shatner fits in... I hadn’t even noticed it was him. Also Also, is that furry pink lump with one eye supposed to be Plink? Why all the arbitrary changes? Did they just decide that since they couldn’t fit a person inside of it, they would give it no limbs at all? Why is it pink??

Eyyy. Roll credits! Yeah, I wish... I’m only halfway through this thing.

They made Rod’s best friend Mickey Asian, which is fine, he’s a very minor character and never really described in the book... but unfortunately, they also decided to make him Data from The Goonies. He’s an inventor. Because he’s Asian. Coooool character, movie. So far it’s lead to an unfunny Coke and Mentos gag and an unfunny Pop Rocks and soda gag (which resulted in projectile vomiting). They cut Snout out of the movie to make room for this stuff, mind you. I’m sure this is building up to some kind of payoff, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to enjoy it.

Speaking of payoffs, there seems to be an implication that there’s some kind of paranormal activity at Seldom Seen, the hidden field on Rod’s grandfather’s property, and at Rod’s school. I can understand the field, in this version Rod’s dad definitely seems to be involved with aliens in some capacity, and that’s probably where he was keeping a ship or something... but the school is kinda inexplicable. Like, it’s covered in snow... and it’s the only place in town that’s seeing snow. I can only assume it’s BKR’s... sorry, B’KR’s doing, but I’m not sure why. Did they decide that being blue means he’s from a cold planet, and requires it to be cold wherever he is?

No idea what’s up with some of these changes. Instead of BKR’s house being like an unlived-in model home, it’s... a complete sty. The exact opposite of the book. Why. Also, that coffee table is completely covered in video game consoles... GameCube, Dreamcast, PS2, N64... but Rod says he’s got “all the latest video games”. Does he? Does he really? Was that line in the script, so the crew just bought whatever they could find? As for BKR himself...

I mean, I don’t see Shirley Temple, but it’s not bad! Rod wasn’t trapped inside a pocket dimension inside a CRT tv when he took his mask off, but they wouldn’t have been able to manage that scene with this budget anyway. So far, this is the only alien design I fully endorse. There WAS a point to him having a cherubic face in the book, but it’s never addressed, only implied, and I get why they would make him look more menacing.

In the book, BKR didn’t really have any goals. He just enjoyed being cruel for the sake of being cruel, and was hiding out on Earth because it was unlikely they’d find him there. In the movie, B’KR intends to destroy Earth by opening a wormhole (which is what’s causing the snow), and the good guys have about an hour to save the planet.

They kept another of Snout’s abilities, the Vulcan Mind Mel-- er, knowledge transferal, but gave it to Tar Gibbons. This is literally the only thing he’s done in the entire movie. For the record, this was originally the scene where Snout connects their minds, but Rod is startled by it and pulls back, causing Snout severe psychic harm and prompting the aforementioned emotional response from Grakker.

...They just had to get William Shatner to say Klingon, didn’t they. The climax of the movie is all him flying around spouting (sprouting?) plant puns, then Rod throws a banana cream pie (which was, apparently, part of someone’s science project) at BKR’s face... and finishes him off with foam shot from his papier mache volcano. I guess the shrunken spaceship expanding inside of a house, causing the roof to collapse and knock BKR unconscious, was too expensive violent for the movie... but why is getting him messy a solution to anything? Ah well.

Bruce Coville himself has a cameo as the judge for the science fair, which is nice. I think he might be the principal of the school... I didn’t really notice in the scene featuring the principal earlier, since that happened to be the projectile vomiting scene. I can only imagine he was honored to have his work recognized in this capacity... he’s a good dude, I’m sure he wouldn’t be as horrified as I am with the writing and quality of it.

Also the movie ends with the reveal of the actual size of the aliens... which is, uhh. About the size of adult humans. Hrm. Guess they just straight up decided not to get anything right, huh? Oh, and they reveal that Rod’s father actually is a member of the Galactic Patrol. So, that’s a thing.

Please don’t say that. God, was this movie bad. I would understand if they were passionate about bringing the story to more people and just didn’t have much of a budget, or if they made changes to better suit a visual medium, but that... is not what they did. I’m not the kind of person that demands an adaptation remains 100% faithful; if you want the experience of the book, you can just read the book. This, however, changes so many things. Like, in the book, BKR’s crime is cruelty. That’s the message of the book... that in truly civilized societies, kindness is the norm, and needless cruelty is a criminal act.

The characters in the book all either have depth to them or are interesting as sci-fi concepts, but the movie... Gakker is Mr. Slapstick, Madame Pong is Cool Collected Female, Tar Gibbons is... I dunno, wisdom obscured by things that just don’t translate into English and saying Warrior Science a lot (honestly the closest to his book counterpart, though HE was more interesting and actually did stuff), and Phil... yeah, just William Shatner saying plant puns. Bleagh.

Well, despite that end screen, it’s good to know that we won’t be getting any sequels. I mean, like I’ve already mentioned, Snout going missing is a major plot point in the second book, and the third is literally called The Search For Snout. What are they going to do, just skip to the fourth book?

...Oh hey, George Takei.

#aliens ate my homework #bruce coville #long post

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letswritefanfiction · 5 years ago

Text

Pokémon Alphabet Challenge: W is for Woe

Can also be read on ffnet here.

The first time she’d ever had her heart broken was when her parents died, she supposed. But she’d been four and hardly remembered it. Hardly remembered them. Her heart must have fully healed by now. No scars to show that she’d even been hurt before.

Ready to be broken again for the first time.

Misty had certain expectations about heartbreak. She thought that when it happened again, it would have been because she’d taken a lover who had done her wrong, leading to a painful and passionate fight, leaving her weeping into her hands. Not that that’s what she wanted to happen, but it seemed like that’s how things would go in a film noir, and there was something masochistically appealing about having a life that dramatic.

The thoughts of betrayal certainly weren’t happy but, if nothing else, they were clean cut. If she caught a boyfriend going after one of her sisters or were secret members of the mafia, then the dramatic breakup would come naturally. And though she’d be heartbroken, she’d know that she did the right thing.

Along with the heartbreak would come the daily ice cream binges, crying and yelling at rom-coms, and tearful conversations with her gal pals. Well, she’d never really had gal pals, but she supposed her sisters might do if it came to that.

In all, she had everything planned out. She could see it coming in the distant future and was already fortifying herself against it.

So when it came earlier than expected with none of the predicted circumstances, Misty wasn’t sure quite what to do.

It was, though. Heartbreak. Dolor. Woe. She felt the crack splintering down her perfectly mended heart and there was nothing she could do but run.

She wasn’t a scorned lover, she wasn’t even a teenage girlfriend. She was just a…friend. And, to be honest, she wasn’t even quite sure which part of it was breaking her heart. The heartlessness of her sisters? Leaving Ash and Brock? The way Ash seemed not to care?

To be fair, it was probably all of it. And the more she thought about it, the more she saw the writing on the wall.

Ash and Brock didn’t keep in touch. Sure, Misty rarely called home, but she had a…challenging relationship with her sisters. As was proven all over again today. But Ash loved his mom. And Brock was basically a second father to his siblings. But the two of them rarely made contact back home. And the three of them never reached out to the friends they’d met on their journey. When was the last time they’d talked to Tracey? Misty didn’t know.

This was the end. And that’s the thought took the crack burgeoning across her heart and split it into pieces.

She dated. She even started having relationships. Part of it was at her sisters’ behest; they’d enjoyed dating so much at her age and they’d hate for her to miss the opportunity. Plus, apparently, she had some sort of ‘reputation’ or ‘tradition’ to keep up. Frankly, she thought that last part was BS, but, really, she didn’t want to be alone, so she went along with it.

And, really, part of it was fun. It was nice to be wanted, to be sought after. She enjoyed being wined and dined—the wine replaced with ice water, of course—and having some element of romance in her life. Misty considered herself an independent woman, and had all the evidence in the world to prove it: she could travel in the wilderness, she’d run a Gym by herself and built up its reputation from next to nothing, and could expertly raise Pokémon, that was, other living beings, from infancy. She could survive. But she thrived with companionship. There was something about always having Ash and Brock or Tracey sleeping beside her or across the room, people to shoot the breeze or share companionable silence with. She wanted to share her time with people.

But every time she broke up with someone or they dumped her, she bounced back surprisingly fast. There was no throwing chocolates at the television or dramatic haircuts or life-changing hiking trips. She would simply move on with an unmoving amount of heartbreak. And that was how she knew that those relationships had barely scratched the surface of what she was searching for.

Really, she was comparing everyone, measuring them against the yardstick that was Ash Ketchum. But since she’d never really known what had caused her to like him so much, she had no idea where these other boys were failing. They weren’t reckless enough? Doltish enough? Utterly immature enough?

Slowly, the realization dawned on her. She wasn’t going to give anyone a fair shot until she went after Ash.

And when she thought about it even more, she noted that, as it was, they were barely friends. Well, they were best friends. But best friends who didn’t call and didn’t write and didn’t see each other for months if not years at a time.

To tell the truth, she could convince herself that there wasn’t much to lose.

She didn’t know where he was. A quick call to his mother—yes, she kept in better contact with his mother than with him—told her that she, nor Professor Oak, quite knew either. Well, at least she knew she was right about him not keeping in good contact with them either. Actually, she got a perverse sense of joy in the reminder that, in fact, it was not just her being ghosted.

But still, the conversation left her with progress.

Professor Oak had last received a Pokémon from Ash a number of weeks ago. Yes, as good of a Trainer as he was, natural talent and all that, he’d never been good at catching that many Pokémon. Not that she was one to talk, but still. Even without a specialty, he never seemed to send all that many Pokémon back to the lab. But it still gave her a starting place. The boy could go far in just a few weeks, but it was better than nothing.

Fortunately, the internet was a thing.

With the Professor’s help, she almost definitely had him nailed down to a region, and it was fair to assume that he was going from town to town challenging Gyms. That didn’t by any means limit the selection of locations in the regions, but it gave solid markers of where he probably either already had been or was going to go. As a Gym Leader herself, she knew that you didn’t remember every challenger who walked into your Gym, but as his prior traveling companion, she knew that people had a tendency to remember Ash Ketchum. She’d ask around.

But first was the matter of getting there.

The one thing on her side was that if there was anything that would get the Waterflower sisters back in the Gym, it was the prospect of their baby sister going on a man-getting mission. They were back training Pokémon in an hour.

That was pretty much the only loose end. She couldn’t take too many Pokémon with her, because the Gym needed most of them, but she did grab Psyduck and Gyarados. Sure, Gyarados had originally belonged to her sisters, but she didn’t think that they would really be able to handle him in a Gym Battle.

Besides, she was hoping to catch new Pokémon along the way. It had been years since she’d really gotten to spend time outside of Kanto, and the truth was, this mission wasn’t just one born of practically stalking her ex slash current best friend slash crush.

It was about taking some God damn control back.

She was going to find her man and see if he liked her too. But if not, then it wouldn’t have been a trip for nothing. In all likelyhood, she’d be stuck in the region for a time before she found him, and she was going to make the best of it. She was going to train, meet new people, and see, if not catch, some new Pokémon.

Just because she wanted a man didn’t mean that she needed one.

Soon enough, with little more planning than her runaway act at age ten, she found herself in an unknown region, searching for the boy she’d fallen for years ago and never gotten over. She only had half an idea as to how to find him, but she hoped that would be part of the fun. Just like Ash with his ever-present goal of challenging the Pokémon League often being overshadowed by whatever hijinks the three of them would find themselves in that day. Ultimately, those were some of her favorite memories, even more so than watching him win a Gym match or progress to the next round of a League.

And she did have fun. She’d promised herself she would and dammit, she made sure in those first few weeks to try and accomplish all the things she’d always wished she’d had time to do at the Gym. She fished—didn’t manage to catch any new Pokémon yet, but she was patient. When it came to fishing, at least—she ate at cafes, she window-shopped; she made sure to enjoy the journey.

She just didn’t expect that it would get lonely so quickly.

Maybe part of the reason she’d always been so fond of Ash was that aside from being her friend and crush, he was her company. He, Brock, Tracey, Pikachu, and Togepi had been a source of energy and comfort for her, even when no words were being exchanged. And now she was traversing a region alone, and it was, well, lonely. Once upon a time, it had been her plan to travel Kanto alone, but that hadn’t been realized for very long at all. And now that she’d lived the alternative, this way was oddly lacking.

So she pulled an Ash and began keeping Psyduck out of her PokéBall.

Maybe Psyduck wasn’t her first choice for a companion, but he fared well on land and his helplessness made her feel needed. He was a big baby, just like Togepi.

It was when she was having a random Battle with another Trainer that the game changed for her. Misty told the girl that she wanted to be a Water Pokémon Master, to which the girl responded, “What’s that?”

Misty was gobsmacked. No one had ever asked her that before. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever heard someone ask Ash that before, and Gods knew he’d certainly spouted the phrase enough times to warrant it. She was surprised, looking back on it, that the conversation had never come up between the two of them. “Hey, Ash, so what does Pokémon Master mean to you exactly?” “Huh, I guess I don’t quite know, Misty. What does it mean to you?” “Uh, mastery of Pokémon?”

She didn’t know. Well, abstractly she did. She felt like she did. But to put it into concrete words for a total stranger who obviously didn’t have any idea…

“I, well, it’s like I’m a Water Pokémon specialist.” Misty blushed a little, wishing the words would come to her. “If you couldn’t tell. And I want to know everything there is to know about Water Pokémon and be, like,” she cringed, cursing herself and the time she’d spent around her sisters, “an expert on them. While also being an expert at using them in Battle.”

“Oh, so like a Gym Leader or something?”

Maybe it should have felt like a compliment. Instead, it just felt like Misty had choked on a rather large wad of gum, and she couldn’t help but sputter a bit. “N-No! Not like a Gym Leader! That’s, well, I mean, it’s good, but it’s just not even close!”

The girl’s brows furrowed, obviously still not getting it. “An Elite then?”

Elites were seen as experts in their fields. Misty knew enough about them—and had idolized Prima long enough—to know where they stood. They were the best of the best.

“No…I mean, that’s better, obviously, but still.” She shook her head, already running out of the few words she’d had.

The other girl seemed a little frustrated, sighing before asking, “Do you have to be the Champion?”

Well, that was what Ash was always going for. His cycle was travel to a new region, challenge all the Gyms, participate in the League, rinse and repeat. But he’d even won a League and it hadn’t slowed him down. Even with all the bravado he’d had back then, Misty knew that he hadn’t remotely considered himself a Master. Would she consider Drake a Master? Gods, she didn’t know.

“It’s not—It’s not about having a position or a title,” Misty tried to explain rubbing her eyes and forehead roughly. “Because, like, ugh, it’s—you can never learn everything, right? I want to know everything there is to know about Water Pokémon, but that’s simply not possible. Even if you combined all the knowledge of all the experts in the world right now, you wouldn’t even be scratching the surface, right? So it’s an abstract thing. An intangible, indescribable, um, conceptual…thing.”

The girl blinked at Misty for a second, but her expression became clearer than Misty had seen it yet. Then she said, “Oh. So it’s unattainable. It’s just there for you to, you know, always be stretching yourself. But it’s not real.”

Misty could have gaped at the girl. Unattainable? Not real? Her whole life’s work, Ash’s life’s work was just…an illusion?

Misty smiled, albeit tighter than could possibly seem normal or natural and replied, “Yep, basically,” through gritted teeth.

“Well, that’s really nice.” The girl smiled. “I hope you make good progress towards it.”

“Me too,” Misty said, though her thoughts were now going a mile a minute. “And, uh, you as well. In your goals.”

“Thanks!” the girls said, seemingly impervious to the sheer amount of awkward Misty threw her way. “Bye, now!”

The girl flounced off and Misty was left with the panic-inducing feeling of, well, what now?

The ‘what now’ was the same as before. She’d had a plan, godammit, and at the moment it was about all she had. So she would keep towards her apparently arbitrary goal of ‘Master’ and try and find Ash while doing it.

It was a good thing she hadn’t let it slip to any random travelers that she was on a trip to find her crush, or that probably would have been torn to pieces as well.

Still. She caught new Pokémon that she was excited to get to know. Not to mention that practically and monetarily speaking, they would be great new attractions at the Gym. Her sisters would be excited about that much. She asked around about Water experts in the region and made efforts to meet with those she could and exchange ideas and practices regarding their Pokémon and theories on what everyone’s next step was. She left many of these meetings with people saying they’d love to visit her Gym whenever she made it back to Kanto. Of course, she never had a good estimate on when that would be.

Her life had been a thing of routine for so long now that it was difficult to fathom that she didn’t know if she’d be back at the Gym next month or even next year. It almost felt like she was in some kind of suspended animation, like her life was barely moving until she got back to the Gym where calendar days were important and her tasks were done like clockwork. Really, it was probably more the opposite—this was more living than she’d done in years.

Truthfully, though, she couldn’t imagine a scenario through which she wouldn’t be back at the Gym in more than a year. If it took her a year and still couldn’t find Ash, then it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe save it for the next existential crisis, assuming she hadn’t moved on by then.

Fortunately, it did not take more than a year to find Ash.

She’d almost missed him. Whilst traveling along a Trainer path, she saw sparks of electricity in the distance. Her first instinct was to think nothing of it. It was probably just two Trainers having a Battle. Then she stopped short.

Or it was Ash and Pikachu doing…well, anything that one might expect the two of them to get up to.

Before she knew it, she was running.

It was one of those moments where your heart is hoping for something so dearly, but your brain is telling you that there’s no chance. No chance in hell. A chance so negligible that you might as well not hope at all. But you can’t help it. And when you finally see it, you think surely it can’t be real.

But there he was. Him and Pikachu, and Team Rocket flying through the air, the smell of burnt hair still crisp in the forest air. He had a different outfit, a different hat, and she spotted some people behind him that were probably his newest travel companions, but she was still transported back years ago, to when this was her everyday. She smiled.

Pikachu noticed her first. His head whipped around as though he’d caught her scent, and his eyes lit up. He leapt off of Ash’s shoulder with such strength that Ash was pushed forward, stumbling a little before looking back at Pikachu in confusion. For a moment. Then he was grinning so hard Misty thought his face might split open.

“Misty!” he shouted, immediately racing Pikachu to see who would get to her first.

Pikachu won, of course, but he’d had a head start—as Ash would be quick to point out—and leapt into Misty’s arms. He was an easy catch and Misty was immediately taken by how his fur felt exactly the same. But was he bigger? He looked bigger. She knew that he probably wasn’t—he’d already been full-grown by the time she’d met him—but he looked different to her. Exactly the same, but different. She supposed that was the strangeness of spending so much time apart.

Ash, on the other hand, definitely looked different. This was the first time she was seeing him at what she would guess was full-grown for him. He was a little taller than her now, which she became acutely aware of when he rushed over and hugged her.

“Hey, Ash!” she managed, her voice high-pitched and breathless as his arms wrapped around her.

This wasn’t what they did. They didn’t hug. They’d linked arms, spun each other around in celebration, even held hands—but they didn’t hug. She knew this because she’d always wanted it. It was amazing, the things you imagined would change your world when you had a girlhood crush. A hug would have meant everything to her. Now, older and more confident, she’d stalked him around the world. And a hug was just the beginning.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes glimmering when he finally—much too soon—pulled back.

Now, Misty was a fan of honesty. Helpful but kind honesty with young Gym challengers, snappish honesty with her sisters, and, well, somewhat scathing honesty to Ash. But even though she wanted to blurt out the truth—before she lost her nerve—she knew now wasn’t the moment. Now wasn’t going to give her that best shot that she’d earned by being patient for this long. She wasn’t going to lose it at the end.

She’d left on a whim. But as she’d spent these last months journeying, she’d been planning.

Now was the time to execute.

She was tagging along. As far as she could see, it’s how Ash had gotten all of his companions, herself included. It was probably the case with his new batch as well, though she could only hope that this time the destroying of personal property hadn’t been involved. It was kind of his MO.

Her goal was to spend a couple of days with him in this new group. This was for two reasons. One, she wanted to remind him of exactly what it was like to travel with her, to spend time with her. If there was any chance that Ash was harboring any sort of a fondness for her, she wanted it to be reignited, and give it just a little time to fester. If not, then she just wanted him to remember how easy their friendship was, and how much they were there for each other.

The second reason was of paramount importance, in that she hoped it wouldn’t matter. She needed to take a little time to remind herself of these things too. To check in and see if her heart still fluttered, if her cheeks still flushed, and if all that was because of real feelings for Ash or if it was just an old habit carried over from childhood. She’d hate to put her heart on the line just because her body was conditioned to have certain psychosomatic responses around that dork.

She knew, invariably, that time had changed Ash. The question was, in what ways and how much?

Wonderfully, she quickly decided that it was, in good ways and, just enough. He was still her Ash, but a little more mature, a little less arrogant, even kinder and more open. These were just the things she could have hoped for from him, and she was thrilled to be able to recognize these tiny little changes here and there as she chatted with him and watched him interact with others. And her heart continued to flutter and her cheeks kept their flush.

She and Ash were collecting firewood, alone save for Pikachu, while his companions were prepping the food for dinner that night. She supposed that after all this time, he still hadn’t picked up a lot of cooking skills. Not that she had either. As celebrities, Misty and her sisters were given the opportunity to eat all around the city for free plus tip so long as they mentioned it online. So they mostly did that or leftovers or things they didn’t really have to cook. Like cereal. Or fruit.

This was her perfect chance. They were alone with little chance of interruption—unless Team Rocket showed up, at which point she’d blast their sorry behinds off before they could even get a breath into their motto.

“Hey, Ash?”

“Yep?”

His head was down, foraging for firewood—this they had gotten good at over the years. He actually already had a few pieces; she was going to have to get her piece out quickly if she wanted to get it out naturally before Ash decided it was time to head back to camp.

“I just wanted to say that it’s been really nice getting to see you again.”

Ash looked over his shoulder and smiled. “You too. And I know Pikachu’s been happy you’re here.”

“Pika!” Pikachu agreed joyfully.

“Getting to see Pikachu might actually be the best part,” Misty joked lightly before falling serious again. “No, actually, I really wanted to see you again, Ash, because…” She took one last breath, steeling herself. “Because I have feelings for you.”

Ash was silent. She’d thought he might be. No matter how Ash felt, her declaration was sure to be a surprise. Still, it made her feel like her lungs were shrinking.

“I um, wow, uh…what kind of feelings?”

Misty threw Ash a look. Softer than usual, because she was confessing her love, but still. He deserved it.

“You know,” she said gently. “The important kind.”

“The…love kind?”

She nodded. “Something like that.”

“Oh, I, uh…wow.”

Ash took his hat off and ran a finger through his hair, leaving it sticking straight up from where his hat had left it flat. He blew a raspberry and looked down at the ground, shaking his head a little.

“I, um. I wasn’t expecting that,” he said finally, looking at her sheepishly.

Misty exhaled a little, almost half of a laugh. “I figured. And, hey, you don’t need to have any sort of a response today or right now, but, you know. I had to tell you.”

“Did you, though?”

That surprised Misty. It seemed as though it surprised Ash a little too, though his expression was caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“What?”

“I…We haven’t seen each other in a long time. So, have you felt this way since last time we saw each other? Or, like, before that?”

She had. Of course she had. And there was some scenario of this in her mind in which she said, yes, she’d loved him for a long time, and he said that he felt the same way…but that didn’t seem to be where this was going. So instead, she said, “What does it matter?”

That stopped Ash again. New Ash was slower with his answers. Still impulsive, but not quite as much as a kid. He seemed to realize now that his words held weight. He probably knew how much his words could hurt her now, and for the first time, she really felt vulnerable in front of him.

This was a boy she wasn’t afraid to cry in front of. She wasn’t afraid to lose in front of. Lose to. She’d been afraid of bearing her heart, but it was one she could overcome for him. And she couldn’t tell if that was changing in this moment.

“I just, I had no idea.” He continued to flounder. He wasn’t making eye contact, he was shifting foot to foot—Pikachu didn’t seem to know what to make of it either. He was just looking with wide eyes back and forth between Ash and Misty. “Um, thank you?”

That’s what made Misty’s heart sink. It was one thing to be caught by surprise. To be confused. It was another to have nothing to say besides ‘thank you.’

Misty gave a flat smile, but she knew that Ash would be able to see right through it. Without emotion, she said, “You’re welcome.”

Then she began searching for more firewood.

“C’mon, Misty, don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything,” she said, her voice falsely chipper as she kept her face pointed towards the ground. “I said my piece and that’s all I wanted. Now we can get firewood and head back to camp. And then I’m going to go back to Cerulean.”

“Back to Cerulean?” he asked in disbelief. “You don’t have to do that. You can keep traveling with us.”

“It was always my plan,” she replied matter-of-factly. “No matter how this went.”

“Wait.” Ash was closer over her shoulder now. “Even if I’d said…something else, you would have gone back to Cerulean?”

She faced him again, despite her red cheeks. “Well, maybe not tomorrow, but yeah? It’s my Gym. It’s my job.”

“So you wanted a relationship, but you there and me here? Slash not here, but anywhere but Cerulean?”

“I don’t know, Ash,” Misty bit out, struggling to keep the frustration from her tone. “I was willing to discuss it.”

“What’s there to discuss? I’m always going to be traveling. I can’t give that up.”

This was a conversation that Misty hadn’t quite imagined. She’d thought about how it might go, if they talked about how they could maintain a long distance relationship. It had filled her with warm, fluffy feels as she imagined her best case scenarios of confessing. She’d figured they’d start small, just contact each other more often, and also making an effort to visit each other when they could. Then they’d see where things went. But here he was, bringing it up, but nothing warm nor fluffy was in the equation.

“First off, you probably won’t always be traveling. Life happens, and I have to imagine that you’ll be drawn from it at some point, even if it’s against your will,” she started. It wasn’t practiced, but it came out with force. “Second, you don’t freaking have to travel. You make that choice every dang day, Ash.”

Ash shook his head. “Uh-uh. You’re just trying to sound smart by saying that. But that’s not really how it is and you know it. I know that’s not how you thought when we were traveling together. You were in it. You were traveling indefinitely—haha, yes, I know that word—period, until your sisters forced you to come home.”

“That’s, argh!” she groaned, “that’s not what I meant. I mean…what are you doing, Ash? You wanna be a Master? You wanna be the best? You can work towards that anywhere. Yes, traveling through different regions felt like it helped me on my goal of being a Master, but so does being a Gym Leader. In a real, measurable way.”

She was looking at him earnestly. Even after only a few days together, he had to see her growth, right? He had to be able to see all that she’d learned as a Gym Leader…didn’t he?

“That’s not what I want.”

He looked at her like he didn’t want to say it. Like it pained him. But, nevertheless, his words were strong.

“I wanna be a Master. I don’t wanna be a Gym Leader. I don’t want to be stuck like that. Could you imagine? The Pallet Town Gym Leader?” He grimaced. “It sounds awful. And I know it’s not what you wanted either, so can’t you understand that?”

He was right; she hadn’t wanted to take over the Gym when her sisters had given it to her. And maybe that had stuck with Ash, because that’s how she left him. It was his last memory of them traveling together.

But mostly, he was wrong. And she was seething.

“Ash Ketchum, you don’t know my life. How dare you know if you want it or not? Yeah, maybe I felt like that. For a day. Because I was sad to be leaving my friends and the best years I’d had thus far. But now? If someone tried to take that Gym from me, I’d chain myself to the door and see them try.”

Ash was taken aback. He didn’t have a quick rebuttal, and Misty took the opportunity to barrel on.

“I get to teach, which is the best way to learn. I’m in my learning environment every day. Every day with Water Pokémon instead of lost in the woods for the umpteenth time or only getting Battle experience from beating Team Rocket. I’m written up by newspapers, I do interviews, people ask me to tutor—I have something to show. What do you have, Ash? Maybe instead of trekking blindly forward, you should try something new. What do you think being a Master is?”

She’d gone too far. She knew it before she was even halfway done. But it also felt good. She was proud of what she’d accomplished, and she hadn’t listed the half of it. She’d done demonstration matches for the Pokémon League, she bred specialty Pokémon, she studied and was able to swim every day. But those accolades and perks didn’t soften the blow of looking at Ash’s face.

“I thought you understood me—” he reached up a hand and patted Pikachu, “us—better than this.”

“I…” she could finally feel the tears begin to rise up. “I thought I did too.”

She walked over to him and put her load of firewood into his arms.

“What are you doing?” he asked, the confusion oddly softening his face.

“I think it would be best if I didn’t camp out with you all tonight,” she answered, the words tight in her throat.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Misty, you know it would be better to camp with us.”

She shook her head. “I’m heading home tomorrow anyway, so it’ll be fine.”

She dared to put a hand out on his shoulder. It was tense, probably mostly from holding all that firewood. But only mostly.

“We never did fight well,” she said with the smallest of laughs. Then, quietly, she said, “You’re still my best friend.”

Ash looked at her strangely. “You too,” he replied, equally quiet.

Misty shifted her hand to cup Pikachu’s cheek. “Bye, Pikachu.”

“Pikachupi?” he voiced. Misty had no idea what he wanted to say, but she could read the sadness on his face, and that was enough for her.

“I’ll miss you too.”

Then she walked away. She’d find a good place for her sleeping bag and go to sleep. She wasn’t really hungry anymore anyway. Her feet were taking her deeper into the woods, but she knew from the map that this forest wasn’t big.

She’d be on the other side in no time.

Just like the first time, going back to the Gym after traveling was hard. But something in her was fired up, raring to prove Ash wrong, so she threw herself into her work. Plus, it was a good distraction.

She could be a Master anywhere. It had been one of many things she’d learned in this short bout of traveling but aside from everything with Ash, it was the one that was sticking with her the most.

When she got back home and found that the Gym was not in ruins—still not the up to par, but it was nice to know that her sisters hadn’t run it into the ground. Job one was returning everything to normal. Bringing back more intense training regimens to the Pokémon she hadn’t brought on her travels, doing a few deep cleans on the space, and catching up on paperwork and correspondence. Then it was about taking the next step.

She now knew even more people who trained Water Pokémon and who owned Gyms. She’d visited them in their hometowns and it was only right she send out invitations now that she was back in Cerulean. These were people she could continue learning from, and she was eager to do so. And it wasn’t just the people she’d just met—there were people she’d been inspired by when traveling with Ash, relationships she’d let fall through the cracks. It was time to hit them up again and see if they remembered her.

Her sisters were a little taken aback by the fervor with which she hit the ground running. Of course, they’d been disappointed that she hadn’t come back with Ash, but once they’d gotten over that, the concern had only grown.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever acted like this after a breakup,” Lily mentioned one time when Misty was on her hands and knees scrubbing the tile of the main pool.

“Yeah, I mean, I can identify with swimming laps. Gotta have that revenge bod,” Violet added. Misty had been doing a lot of swimming too; her lung capacity had shrunk a little and she wanted to get it back to where it had been. “But this is, like, kinda extreme.”

“It wasn’t a breakup,” Misty ground out. “It wasn’t really anything.”

“It was a rejection,” Lily corrected bluntly. “But, like, I’ve never reacted like this after one of those either.”

“To be fair, I’m not sure you’ve ever had one of those.”

Lily grinned. “Oops, I guess you’re right, Vi!”

“Out!” Misty pointed a soapy hand towards the door.

She went back to scrubbing and didn’t look to see if they went or not; she wasn’t going to ask again. It was a huge doorway. She could only hope they’d find their way through it.

Truthfully, it was the quieter moments that got to her. She worked her normal workday, and then she retired. That was something she’d worked out pretty early on as Gym Leader: you have to put your duties away at some time, otherwise you’ll burn out and go crazy. One of the nice things about the stability that Ash so seemed to hate was that there was always tomorrow.

The Gym would always be there tomorrow.

But when she put work aside and she was left with little but her thoughts, that’s when she reacted more in the way that Lily seemed to want her to. There had been tears. Of course there had been tears. The five stages of grief: sadness, misery, depression, melancholy, woe—she’d been through all of it.

No, truth be told, she really did feel like she was working through the actual five stages of grief. Knowing for sure that Ash didn’t feel the same way about her that she still—yes, still—felt about him was like losing something dear to her. This crush on Ash had been a part of her identity for so long that, even though it wasn’t gone, this switch in the narrative felt like something of an existential crisis. And now she had to grieve one of her greatest fantasies. She had no idea what stage she was on, but it was clear she had a ways to go. If there truly was an equal and opposite reaction to everything, then she’d be heartbroken for a time to come. She’d loved Ash for a long time.

And she’d meant what she’d said to him. He was still her best friend. So when a couple months passed and the League tournament came around, she flipped on the channel and watched as she paid bills, answered emails, and ate her meals.

Of course, she likely would have done this whether Ash was in the tournament or not. The best thing about being a fan of Pokémon Battles was that you never had to wait long for one region’s tournament to start after the last one ended. And aside from documentaries and nature shows about Water Pokémon, it was definitely her programming of choice.

She watched and she watched and she watched. She didn’t know any of the other names or faces in the competition this year—she rarely did outside of Kanto—and every time Ash came up, her heart fluttered. Her little broken heart continued to beat for that boy.

She thought that would make it hurt more. But really, the feeling was familiar, and it made her smile. She was happy to see him do well. She was happy to see him in general. After all, no matter how she thought he should be going about it, he was following his dream. And that always had been one of the special things about him.

Maybe she was coming around to acceptance quicker than she’d thought.

Misty was expecting him any minute.

Dorian of the—still unofficial—Coastline Gym, after weeks of correspondence, was finally visiting the Cerulean Gym today. Misty had been thinking about utilizing the pool that her sisters used for water shows for underwater Pokémon Battles like Dorian did for a while, but she wanted his expert opinion.

His Gym was still unofficial because of the practice of underwater Pokémon Battles, of course. It was limiting and alienating, and the PIA refused to sanction a Gym that would so limit the challenging Trainers. But it didn’t mean that Misty couldn’t utilize the practice occasionally. Maybe request it for rematches or something, so that returning challengers couldn’t get to comfortable? She didn’t know; she was going to ask Dorian.

All of this was on her mind when she finally heard the doorbell. It would be excellent to get his opinion on the different facilities, so she’d probably do a tour first. Well, really, she’d offer him some water, food, and rest, and then probably a tour? Then maybe a Battle? Or should they battle later?

That’s why she was so surprised when she opened the front door and found herself face to face with Ash Ketchum. And Pikachu.

She was so surprised that she gasped and almost slammed the door in his face. Fortunately, she managed to hold that impulse back and instead forced out an awkward. “H-Hi. Ash.”

Ash seemed to let out a breath when she said his name, and he smiled a little. “Hey, Misty. Care to let us in?”

Automatically, she stepped aside and said, “Sure.”

Then it was like she caught up to the world, and her thoughts were going a mile a minute. Why was he here? Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why hadn’t he given her some advance warning? After the last time they’d seen each other—no, don’t think about the last time they saw each other—but still, it would be the courteous thing to do, right? Not that Ash had even been courteous. He was kind and largely considerate, but not courteous. Speaking of courteous, shouldn’t she offer him some water, food, and rest for his travels?

“Say, wanna go to the kitchen?” Misty offered, the words coming out awkward and stilted. But they were there, and that was something.

Ash nodded his head and grinned, as though she’d hit the nail on the head. Maybe he’d stopped by just because he was low on cash and wanted a bite to eat? She wouldn’t put it past him. Though she didn’t have any real food to offer Pikachu, unless he wanted to nibble on specialized Water Pokéchow.

As she silently lead the way to the kitchen, Misty was struck again by her conversation with Lily and Violet. Somehow, Ash really did feel like an ex. Someone she had history with, history that hadn’t ended well, and now she was seeing him for the first time after the fallout.

Misty got them each a glass of water and laid out an open but not stale bag of chips on the counter, which Ash didn’t hesitate in reaching for. He set out a small pile for Pikachu, who jumped onto the counter and began eating, before shoving a handful in his mouth. Misty’s own stomach was somewhat knotted up with nerves, but lord knew if there was food in arms reach, she was probably going to eat it.

“Hey, Misty, is that Dor—” Daisy cut herself off when she saw that the dark-haired boy in the kitchen was indeed, not Dorian. “Oho, no it’s not. I, um, I’ll go wait by the door for him? Yeah. Okay. Hi, Ash.”

Ash smiled. “Hi, Daisy.”

When Daisy left, Ash turned back to Misty, whose ears were bright red and burning.

“Expecting company?”

“Just work stuff,” she explained, dipping into the chip bag. “Daisy can handle it.”

Ash nodded. “Gotcha.”

Then there was silence but for the sound of chips crunching and the bag crinkling. Both Ash and Misty kept their gaze mostly on Pikachu, watching as the little mouse nibbled through its pile of chips.

“Well, the League’s over,” Ash finally said.

“I know. You lost. Again.”

Misty regretted the words as soon as they came out, but when she looked at Ash, he was laughing.

“Sure did. Did you place bets against me, Mist?”

“No!” she responded immediately, face indignant, clearly reading ‘how could I ever?’ But then it melted into a smirk. “I didn’t know any of the competition well enough to know which one was going to beat you.”

Ash clutched his chest with his salt-covered hand. “Ouch, that one hurt.”

That comment and gesture pulled Misty out of their banter-filled fantasy realm and back to reality. She was the one with the broken heart. It was a little harder to smile after that.

She didn’t know if Ash noticed a change in her expression or if maybe he was just getting to his point in coming here, but after a moment’s pause, he said, “I’m really sorry. You know. About before.”

Misty just shook her head, looking down at the countertop. It needed a wipe down. “Don’t be. I really threw a curveball at you.”

“I mean, yeah! It surprised me a lot because I’d never suspected…” He looked at her and she forced herself to maintain a few seconds of awkward eye contact. “The truth is, I’d never really thought about it before.”

“That kinda sounds like you.”

Ash gave a little lifeless chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so. Not my forte, huh?”

“Not when there are no Pokémon to speak of,” Misty replied with a little smile.

“Right,” Ash agreed, copying her smile. “But I really wish you hadn’t left.”

Misty pushed her bangs back, and let out a salty breath. “Yeah, not my shining moment. I bet your friends thought I was super weird.”

“Yeah, they thought that was strange,” he said, bobbing his head a little. “But, I mean, aside from that…I wish you hadn’t left.”

If this was Ash’s version of extending an olive branch, she’d take it. The idea that he still enjoyed and missed traveling with her, that he’d always take her back and travel with her again, it was nice. A gesture more than anything else, but nice.

“Thanks, Ash. But I would have had to go back to the Gym eventually.”

Ash surprised her by letting out a little groan and rubbing his hands on his face. Just the palms, though, so he didn’t get salt and oil all over himself. The sound was enough to draw Pikachu’s attention from licking the countertop, though, and the Pokémon went back over to Ash and patted his bicep.

“I got it, buddy, I got it,” Ash said, bringing one hand back to his side, and the other to the top of Pikachu’s head, scratching around his ears a little.

“You okay, Ash?” Misty asked.

“I thought a lot after you left, Mist,” Ash said, his brow furrowed as though he was still thinking about it. Certainly thinking more than Misty was used to seeing him do. “About all the stuff you said, about what I was doing, and, you know, just about you.”

Misty felt her heart give a little somersault and she had to take a deep breath to push it down.

“And…you were right.”

“I was right?” Misty asked. “About what?”

“About me,” he answered. “About being a Pokémon Master. I guess I hadn’t realized it, but I’ve kind of been on autopilot for years now. Since Hoenn, I guess. Always starting over in a new region with only Pikachu, challenging eight Gyms, doing the League…losing.”

“Right,” she said, following him so far.

She’d said what she’d said to him out of anger. And desperation. And beginning to see a change in her own life, a good one, and wanting him to be able to do the same.

“So,” Ash shared a determined look with Pikachu, “I’m going to do the Indigo League again.”

Misty didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“What?”

“I know we’re already into the season, so I’m going to have to work quickly to get all eight badges, but I already know the regions and the Gyms, so it should be doable. Plus, I’m going to use Pokémon that I already have at the Professor’s lab. At least to start with.”

“Wow, that’s awesome, Ash!” Misty exclaimed. “But why are you…why?”

Ash grinned. “Because of you! I figure that if I go back to where I started, then I can really see where I’ve improved and what I have to work on. And I feel like I’ve gotten really good at working with a new team in a new region, but now I should try pairing different Pokémon of mine together, maybe ones that haven’t ever battled together before, and, you know, refine some skills.”

“That all sounds really great, Ash.”

It did. It wasn’t that different from what he was already doing, but it was a conscious decision that he was making, and more mindful than she might have expected of him. Then, depending on how this went, he’d have more experience to make an even more out of the box decision after the Indigo League.

“Yeah, I’m actually pretty excited,” he said, seemingly barely able to hold back from bouncing up and down. “Plus, I figure that if I’m in Kanto, then you and I could try to start seeing each other.”

She could almost hear the sound of all the air getting sucked out of the room. It was like that noise when a computer powers down or like doing a cannon ball in the pool and all the water goes in your ears. Plus, she could barely breathe.

“I, I’m sorry, what?”

Ash quickly began to backtrack. “Assuming that’s what you still want, of course! I mean, we never really got to talk about what it was that you wanted back, you know, when we last saw each other, but I just assumed that it was a ‘seeing each other’, ‘dating’, kind of a situation, right? But, I mean, you probably know better than me about how these things go, but also after the way I acted, maybe you don’t want to, I mean…do you want to?”

He was almost cringing as he looked at her. One eye was squinted down, and his nose and lips were scrunched, as though waiting for her to deck him across the face.

“I…um.” If she had surprised him a few months back, than he had absolutely confounded her. “I was under the impression that you didn’t want to.”

He took his hat off and was running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t. Or at least, I didn’t know that I did. You know I’m not a master of, I don’t know, identifying feelings. Usually it’s just good or bad or, like, hungry or tired. All I know is that I was thinking about you a lot these past months and I would have preferred to be thinking about you and talking to you.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough to base a relationship on, Ash.”

“But what about our friendship?” He set his hat on the counter and grinned at her in the way that always made her stomach flip flop. “We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

She smiled. “I might have said that.”

“Then isn’t that enough? That is, if you meant the other stuff you said…”

Her face turned a little pink. A small part of her still couldn’t believe that she’d actually confessed her feelings to Ash, and that the world had kept turning. She’d been living in a post-confession world for months now.

“I meant it,” she said quietly.

“Then, great! I mean, I won’t be here, but it’ll be really easy to stop by. And we just make sure that we’re good about calling whenever I’m at a Pokémon Center and stuff. And if you ever want to get away from the Gym, even just for a day, then you can visit me wherever I am and we can, I don’t know, just do whatever.”

He was painting the image with a broad brush, but it looked good to Misty. It looked so good to her. In all of her rosy depictions of how post-confession life with Ash could be if all went well, this had to be one of the best possible outcomes. Mostly because it was becoming real before her very eyes.

“What made you change your mind?”

“It’s not that my mind changed, it just…grew? Because it’s not like I didn’t, um, you know, before. It’s just that I hadn’t thought about it,” Ash explained. “But then when you left, I felt really bad. Bad about you leaving like that, and the things I’d said—the things you said too—bad that you’d left at all. Then, you know, you were on my mind a lot, after a while when I was thinking about you, I felt good! Happy to be thinking of you. And I thought, oh, maybe that’s what she meant. Like, just looking at you made me happy.”

She looked at him. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I meant.”

“Good.”

Then they were just looking at each other, twin smiles on their faces. Then, at all the eye contact, they both began to laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Misty said as they were finally calming down. “Let’s go to the Gym.”

“Uh, Mist, we’re already in the Gym.”

“No, dummy, the arena,” Misty corrected. “You’ve got a Badge to try and win, right?”

“Weren’t you expecting company?”

Misty had forgotten about that. Maybe she’d heard the doorbell ring while she and Ash had been talking—she couldn’t remember.

“I can’t think of anything better for a guest than bearing witness to one of the best matches he’ll ever see.”

“One of the best matches?” Ash asked, eyebrows raised. The he picked his hat back up and put it on backwards, looking at Misty with a fire in his eyes. “Try the best match.”

Misty laughed. “I’m not even sure if he made it, Ash,”

“Screw that!” Ash said. “Let’s go to the Gym! You ready, Pikachu?”

“Pika!”

“Are you actually going to battle her?”

“Pika chu!”

“Haha, you hear that, Misty? Just try and beat Pikachu with your Water Pokémon!”

“I beat cocky punks like you every day, Ash, just try me!”

“Oh, I’m going to do so much more than try.”

To Misty’s surprise, Ash reached back for her hand, and began to drag her towards the arena where they’d had their first match so many years ago. And so much had changed since then, not the least of which being that now her hand was in his. But also…

She was going to beat him this time.

#pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #pokeshipping #aaml #ash and misty #ash ketchum #oneshot #fanfiction #writing

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magistralucis · 5 years ago

Text

Rammstein @ Stadium MK, 06 July 2019 [Review]

Just over a week ago, I saw one of the greatest shows in my life.

I dedicate lengthy reviews to most concerts I’ve been to. R+ most definitely merit one, and I like to think this one turned out very nice and long, with plenty of images in between. Nevertheless, I omitted a lot more details this time than I usually do, because:

My pre-show adventures were abnormally long (12+ hours wait).

I made irl queue buddies whose identities aren’t up to me to release.

I’ve talked to people who plan to attend future tour dates and do not want to be spoiled on what R+ has planned. I usually put my reviews below a cut to prevent spoilers, but it doesn’t work on mobile as well.

So, a compromise: I commented on every song on the setlist, but I kept to general comments for new content. There are things R+ brought out this year that you really need to see with your own eyes. But I can’t completely refuse to talk about new things, otherwise that’s only half a review. Those who are wary of all spoilers, please, read at your own risk.

Read on for more. Mobile users, be warned this is a very long post.

----------------------------

The Journey (+ Queue Adventures)

This show wasn’t in London. You won’t read about London commutes or opinions about the London Underground in this section for once. Too bad the journey to Milton Keynes fucking sucked. It wasn’t commuting back and forth between Rammstein and my hotel that was the problem. In fact, going back home from Milton Keynes was very simple. But getting there? My God. Only a few things went pear-shaped, and I have nobody but myself to blame for the things that went wrong, but I was not prepared for the discrepancy between MK and the areas surrounding it. Future me, book your hotels and transport in Central Milton Keynes next time.

I will never put myself in the mercy of so many taxis in my life again. Well, I mean, two. Still two too many.

A quick note about Milton Keynes for non-UK residents. It’s probably the most organized city in this country. Milton Keynes is modern and grid-planned, unlike most other cities here which have grown organically and have alleys and hills and cobblestones all over the place. All the roads in MK are in straight lines or clear roundabouts, buildings/facilities are in logical places, and it’s widely considered to be a very easy place to navigate. It’d have been nice to experience literally any of that during most of my journey, because dumbass booked a hotel in the villages around Milton Keynes rather than the city itself. The villages are serene and calming, but they absofuckinglutely do not adhere to any such thing as a grid plan and getting around them was difficult. This was not helped by the fact that the very first leg of the journey, Brighton to London, was delayed for an hour due to an accident on the motorway. I missed the connection to Milton Keynes as a result.

Fuckign.

That was one inconvenience which was not in any way my fault whatsoever, and I’m still bitter that it nearly ruined my entire journey. At least trains between London to Milton Keynes are very common, and it’s only half an hour. So ultimately, after an extra fifteen quid, I arrived right on time. Commuting to the hotel was much harder, because it was a very hot day, and the trains to these villages come by more infrequently. But at least they were there, I hadn’t packed a very heavy load, and when I finally reached the hotel I was given a cottage room all to myself which was cool and comfortably out of the way. There was a huge bathtub. Some nice free toiletries. Complimentary brandy. Oh, hotel, why couldn’t you have been a little closer to the city centre?

But, whatever. I got there. I took the Ls I deserved, and I didn’t pay too high a price for the one I didn’t deserve. I’d brought more than enough money to cover it, because I’d known I would need to shell out extra for transport on the day of the concert. That thought process is universal among concertgoers; I think I handled that as well I could have. I ate dinner, packed a bag, and fell asleep.

That was Friday. Saturday the 6th I will cover in bullet points, from waking up to front row, because most of my Saturday consisted of nothing but waiting for Rammstein. I’m usually more detailed about my preshow life, but there’s a line between an entertaining diary entry and making people slog through fifteen hours of Rammstein-not-happening. Let’s go.

4am. Up nice and early. I force down breakfast. I have a small bag packed with necessities, and a plastic bag intended to be disposed of at the concert: the latter contains energy bars, satsumas (for hydration), some dried salami, and two bottles of water. That is all I’m going to be eating for the rest of the day.

5:45am. Taxi to Stadium MK. It costs exactly a tenner. I decide that when I’m heading back from the concert, I’m willing to pay up to double this amount. A higher price surge will mean I’ll have to wait.

6am. Queuing adventures begin. There are already four people ahead of me; the people at the very front have been waiting since 3am. I’m at Gate 5, closest to front row out of all the other available gates in the stadium. There are three queue lines already formed with metal barriers, separated by standing, seats, and accessible/disabled, but there is a taller barricade in front of it which prevents us from going in there. We are too early even for that.

Stadium doors open at five, R+ comes on at eight. This is going to be a ridiculous haul.

7am. Up to ten people in the queue. The first six of us in the queue begin talking. These people are the aforementioned queue buddies who will subsequently keep my place in line during bathroom breaks, give me much concert wisdom, and preserve our places for front row. The human capacity to spontaneously begin caring for one another at concerts is what I like best about concert culture, especially metalhead culture. Ain’t no other home I’ve found like with fellow metalheads.

9:30am. I am really tired. The people right behind me have homebrewed a sunshade out of plastic picnic mats across the barriers. Half of us are collapsed on the asphalt, sleeping.

10:13am. Bathroom break. Me and one other girl leave the queue to the 24h McDonalds to make use of theirs. I will revisit this McDonalds roughly 14 hours from now, this time to contribute actual business.

12pm. People in queue are significantly more alert because security guys have started milling around. The barricades for the main queue lines will be removed around 3pm.

1:30pm. One last bathroom break. We visit the nearby Asda, because it’s becoming evident the area is flooded with R+ fans and the restaurants are demanding they engage with actual business before using their bathrooms. Asda has no such issue.

3pm. Barricades finally open and I make it to the front of the line once more. We’re allowed a single 500ml bottle of water with us but then they FUCKING HIT US AGAIN WITH THE NO BOTTLE CAP BULLSHIT. Seriously it’s more of a hazard to have open bottles spilling water everywhere for the love of God just let us keep our bottle caps. I discard my original cap, but what I didn’t tell security was that I had a sports cap from a separate bottle from earlier hidden in the depths of my jacket. Once I’m in, I just screw that on, and I am fine and dandy.

5PM FUCKING DOORS ARE OPEN GO GO GO-

-STAIRS? S T A IR S??? AIN’T NOBODY FUCKING TELL ME ABOUT STAIRS ? 1!?@?3@?@/2?3?#

After a wild scramble I score front row nonetheless. Last time I was front row for Rammstein, I was in front of Richard; this time I choose Paul’s side.

Around 6pm it begins to rain. In the stadium.

6:30pm. I am really cold. I am shivering despite the thousands of people rubbing shoulders beside and all around me, and it’s still 1hrs 30mins until R+ show up. They cannot come on fast enough. I have never wanted so much to be toasted like a marshmallow.

7pm. The opener comes on - Jatekok, a classical pianist duo who covered most of Sehnsucht over a half-hour period. They are all the way over at the B-stage however, and while I can hear them, being a short woman at front row essentially means I forfeit anything that happens on the B-stage. It’s too far back, and there are too many people between me and the stage for me to see anything.

Rammstein came on at 8pm to a multi-language announcement asking the audience not to film the performance. The abundance of full-length videos on youtube depicting exactly that is proof that this request was not kept, but I digress. I’m assuming most people reading this review are Rammstein fans, or or know how each song’s ‘performance’ goes, so a minute-by-minute play will be unnecessary. My comments are general, but hopefully insightful.

----------------------------

01. Was ich liebe (Rammstein)

Check this shit out!

This screen will continue to be relevant throughout the concert. Half the time it’s displaying the logo, and half the time... well, you’ll have to see 😂 R+ have opted for a relatively calm start in this tour. The bandmates appear one by one to the intro, lingering at the front of the stage (save for Schneider) until Till appears.

All the bandmates’ outfits. So far a theme is uncertain. Or maybe it’s just that Flake is the odd one out. He sparkles most golden throughout the entire concert. He still has the treadmill arrangement going. If anything he’s gotten more stage-confident and hilarious since the last time I saw him.

Till’s outfit goes hot and serious and heavy. He will only keep the coat on for ‘Was ich liebe’, which is perfectly reasonable; it’s stopped raining by this time and the venue is warm-ish, though clouded. As for ‘Was ich liebe’ as a song, I’m fond of it. I am, however, surprised to see that it’s the opener. This is not a complaint: in retrospect, R+ paced out the songs from their recent album very cleverly throughout the concert, alternating between their older hits and building up to the major climaxes in the middle (songs 7-14). It was just a bit of a surprise at the time.

I see the most of this cheerful lil’ bastard through the show. Paul will feature heavily in my images of this night.

02. Links 2-3-4 (Mutter)

Storytime. Kinda. I had never watched the music video of ‘Links 2-3-4′ until the day of this concert. I’ve always known one existed, I just didn’t watch it because it’s full of ants and insects are my number one phobia. I haven’t willingly sought out things with insects in it for years, and I wasn’t going to start any time soon. This self-imposed ban on watching the video was broken in Stadium MK because while we were waiting, they were marathoning every single R+ music video on a large screen off to the side of the stage. I watched the whole thing then because I might as well; what the hell else was I gonna do, leave the front row?

It was actually a pretty good video once I got past the CGI bugs ick factor of it. This has nothing to do with the actual live version of the song. Why the hell have I written so much about this? Till removes his heavy coat almost as soon as the song begins. Paul starts properly fucking around with his mic. I’m seeing the virtues of being on Paul’s side very early on, and I finally get what people mean by having ‘met Paul’s eyes’ during the concert. It’s not that he’s focused on the one person, at least not as far as he outwardly presents himself, but he does seem to have a specific zone in which he regards the audience. He takes time to meet eyes with various people, smile, and acknowledge particular situations.

03. Tattoo (Rammstein)

Till is now dressed suitably for the Tillhammer to come out in full force. I’m not huge on ‘Tattoo’ as a song, but this is where Till really starts to gravitate towards either side of the stage, rather than at dead center. After shenanigans with Paul, as seen above, he comes over to Paul’s side (where I am) and stays for the first verse and the first ‘zeig mir deins, ich zeig' mir deins’ chorus.

I like to think we make eye contact, but there are thousands of people behind me and he’s not an eye contact person. Just a fleeting thought.

Also I just went to look at one of the aforementioned full-length videos of this concert and someone was bouncing around an inflatable shark (?) behind me. How did they get that in? Hide it deflated in one’s clothes then inflate it while in the stadium?

04. Sehnsucht (Sehnsucht)

The last strands of ‘Tattoo’ fade immediately into ‘Sehnsucht’ with no time for a break. Till removes another layer of outerwear. Fireworks burst out at every beat leading up to the main part of the song. In retrospect, discounting their fiery entrance, ‘Sehnsucht’ is really the point where you can tell they’re warming up the pyrotechnics. I don’t remember any particular interaction between Till or the guitarists, as from what I can remember Till was busy Tillhammering at the center stage; he will move around more freely later. My memories of this song are loving but blurred, because I got into headbanging with the girls beside me and their hair was grazing my arms something awful. I have similar length hair, however, so I’m sure I was doing the same to them.

God ‘Sehnsucht’ is so good. I always think of the Live Aus Berlin performance where Till was bashing the mic against his forehead when I hear this song. Hits me right in the spot every time.

Also: bonus Richard.

05. Zeig dich (Rammstein)

*sick guitar riffs* ‘Zeig! Dich!’

Fuck yeah. The heat from those firebursts are brief but incredible. Now I feel most comfortable and toasted. Black smoke drifts into the sky.

Also significant ymmv based on location, but this is only about the people around and behind me: come on guys, seriously? You don’t know the lyrics! This is the third song from Rammstein already and you’ve been quiet all three times! I however give them credit for being so well behaved through the show. People further to the right of me were getting dragged out all over the place.

06. Mein Herz brennt (Mutter)

Till trolls us with the first instance of ‘mein Herz brennt’, as the main riff doesn’t immediately begin after these words in this performance. He has a laugh about this. Other than that, the performance is as you’d expect, complete with heart pyrotechnics towards the end.

Olli comes very close to me at the halfway point. I'm starting to worry he’s going to spend the entire concert dressed like this, though the concern is unwarranted. It seems such a hot thing to be wearing.

07. Puppe (Rammstein)

ich rEISS' DER PUPPE den KOPF! AB!

ja, ich REISS' DER PUPPE den KOPF! AB!

UND DANN BEISS’ ICH DER PUPPE DEN H̷AL҉S̕ ĄA̡AA͟B̵!

E̷҉S̀͡͞ ҉̶ĢE͞͝H̷͡T͘ ̢́M͜҉I̵͜R ́͠͝N̷̴Í̷C͟͡͞H̸̀T̛̀ G̡̕U̡҉̀U̵̕U͡͠U҉UU̢U͡T̷̨̛

Make sure you see this performance live, preferably up close. It’s beyond words.

08. Heirate mich (Herzeleid)

When I was in the queue I struck up a conversation with one of my queue buddies about what songs might be on the setlist. She had been front row for the concert in Berlin prior to this, so she already knew what we were getting into. I requested no spoilers in advance, which she kept to - but then our conversation moved to the Herzeleid-Sehnsucht era and I mentioned how I’d love to see a live performance of ‘Heirate mich’ again. It was always a wistful sadness of mine that I was born too damned early to see Till doing this.

Not that I said outright Tillchard was the reason I liked this song.

In retrospect, she had a twinkle in her eye when I said this, because she knew that this song was on the setlist. I did not see it coming. I kept myself spoiler-free from day one of buying tickets to the actual concert itself, so it was a genuine surprise when the intro to ‘Heirate mich’ started playing. Surprise and confusion with a heaping side of mother fucking excuse me when I recognized what it was.

Oh I went hog wild, guys.

Till does not do the dragging himself onto his knees thing in the current tour, which I think is understandable. His knees weren’t amazing twenty years ago and they are presumably even less so now. It’s a very straightforward performance, winding down to prepare for the real showstoppers - but my old wish was finally granted, Till sounded wonderful in both song and narrative, and I came away most satisfied. 11/10 would listen again.

09. Diamant (Rammstein)

Half the band takes a break here. Flake comes down from the keyboards to sit on the stage and Olli sits beside him, providing the bass for this short beautiful little ballad. There are no fancy pyrotechnics here, nor much stage movement; it’s a sequence to make the audience aware of the overheard screen, imo, in case ‘Puppe’ didn’t do a good enough job of it. The entire performance is broadcast on that screen with the camera turning between Olli, Till, and Flake.

Till’s voice is beautiful. It’s the most legitimately serene Rammstein performance I’ve ever seen live. They have their share of ballads - ‘Ohne dich’ will also feature later in the concert - but ‘Diamant’ is probably the most low-key of them all.

10. Deutschland (Richard Z. Kruspe Remix) / Deutschland (Rammstein)

I...

???

?????

?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!

I have no words. Like ‘Puppe’, you really need to see this entire sequence live. I can say three things, however, and two are about Richard: 1) ‘Deutschland’ comes in two flavours in the tour, the second one being the glorious full version in the main album, 2) Richard avoids sounding devilish in his backing vocals (‘du hast, du hast, du hast, du hast... so heiß, so heiß, so heiß, so heiß’ etc), though I cannot guarantee he will always be as tuneful in future performances, and 3) he will not go of that coat until ‘Du hast’. DJ Kruspe is in the house and only the unrelenting flow of time can part him from his swaggity swag fluffcoat.

But I... well, I keep remembering Till’s pink shrug every time I look at it. Remember back when we fawned over that as the brand new Rammstein outfit?

Oh my God I’ve gotten so old.

11. Radio (Rammstein)

This is probably my second favourite song of the new album and they deliver. Because ‘Deutschland’ was, well, ‘Deutschland’, it comes across as relatively low-key compared to what came before (and will after), but I like it like that. During the bridge ‘Ra-di-o... radio’ part, Paul and Richard come out with their own small synths to recreate that sound. It’s so peppy.

Paul does another small dance. Why did I neglect being on Paul’s side until now? This is great.

12. Mein Teil (Reise, Reise)

I’m half ashamed to say I spent this entire performance filming it instead of rocking out. I wanted to save it that much. It was that good.

No, it’s not fundamentally different to other performances of ‘Mein Teil’. Till keeps his usual outfit, Flake’s in the pot, there is a pot, etc. However, the pyrotechnics have changed significantly, and let’s just say that Flake endures a hell of a lot more than previous incarnations.

And comes out of it more sprightly than before, somehow.

Marry me.

Also a bonus consequence of being front row: after this song, Till comes down the stage and walks along the barrier shaking/slapping hands with people. In his murderchef outfit. I was one of many who managed to touch his hand. It really is a very quick walk, so you’ll have to be ready with hand already out and in reaching distance (difficult if you’re short) if you want to partake in this encounter, but it does happen. Future concertgoers watch out for something like this maybe.

13. Du hast (Sehnsucht)

Can you really call it a live performance of ‘Du hast’ if the audience isn’t singing at least 50% of it in Till’s stead? But then, when else do we have that opportunity. Milton Keynes audience does not disappoint.

Also Till shoots some excellent fireworks that travels across the length of the stadium and back before crashing back onstage. I still hear their whistles in my mind. Night is beginning to fall for real, and it’s a fantastic time to be ramping up the fireworks. Evidently R+ think the same, because...

14. Sonne (Mutter)

Daaaaaaaaammnn!!!

I have a video of this performance, but honestly it is not that useful for assessing what’s happening onstage. There is just too much fire. The video whites out continuously from all the flames mere feet away from us. ‘Sonne’ has always been a facemelting showstopper for Rammstein during live shows, but they’ve really gone above and beyond this year: the arena truly lights up like the sun for the full duration of the song. I highly recommend getting front row for this, right in front of where you can see the pyrotechnics are installed in the above gif. (Between main speakers, essentially.) Your face will burn off even more than it usually burns off during a R+ concert, and you will enjoy every minute of it.

15. Ohne dich (Reise, Reise)

Till’s in very good condition tonight. How he pulls off the slow ballads is how I tend to gauge his voice is from night to night, and he doesn’t let us down here either. The entire front row slow waves to this song, which is something I’m proud of being a part of. The girl to the left of me is weeping. The seriousness of this song still does not prevent Flake fucking around. It wouldn’t do R+ performances justice if he wasn’t like this.

‘Ohne dich’ is considered the first ‘ending’ of the concert, meaning in reality the band’s first departure from the main stage. All six members take an initial bow before moving to the B-stage. They will return to the main stage shortly afterwards for further encores.

16. Engel (Sehnsucht)

Pros: The opening act return in their gorgeous outfits and pianos, and act as the piano instrumental for this performance.

Cons: It’s on the B-stage. I sure heard this song but didn’t see anything. God damnit I hate being five feet four.

They provide a karaoke for people exactly in my situation, though. That’s at least something 😂

17. Ausländer (Rammstein)

You thought one R+ boat ride was awesome? HOW ABOUT THREE.

I am going to cry. Look at it. It’s literally a Welcome sign. The sentiment of the music video to ‘Ausländer’ is perfectly retained as they surf across the audience from the B-stage.

Also bonus ~✨👀 unintentional Tillchard moment 👀✨~ as Richard has a little slip on his way out of the boat. He was not hurt and was back onstage quickly. All this before the song even begins. I may need to upload the video of this moment.

‘Ausländer’ itself I have slightly more mixed feelings for. The song is fantastic and I have no complaints about the album version, and hearing Till cry out ‘я люблю тебя’ is always a plus. The problem with the live version is simply that the drums are too loud during the chorus: instead of a clearly enunciated ‘Ich bin Aus-län-der!’ with a drumbeat on each syllable, one hears ‘*THUD* *THUD* Aus-län-*THUD*!’. I was wearing earplugs which might have affected the quality somewhat, but people who weren’t wearing any were talking about this after the show as well, and after watching videos of the Milton Keynes performance I’m sure the drums were too loud. Your mileage may vary on whether this is a desirable effect - it lets the audience fills in the ‘ich bin’ part, I suppose - but I feel Till was unnecessarily drowned out.

18. Du riechst so gut (Herzeleid)

For me, the highlight of this song in the live version is always, always, always Richard’s evil scream-growl ‘DU RIECHST SO GUUUUUUUUUUUT’ (example here for reference). He delivers yet again.

19. Pussy (Liebe Ist Für Alle Da)

On the whole, this performance is largely unaltered from how it usually goes. Till gestures for the audience to sing the first couple of lines, there is a dick cannon that shoots something at the audience, and Till mans the dick cannon. Last time I saw them from front row, we were all covered in a very thick white foam; this time it was bubbles, followed by a shower of white confetti. The combination was less clinging than the foam, somehow, much more pleasant to be showered with.

Only Rammstein could make me write such a sentence about dick cannons.

Speaking of the dick cannon, though, I engaged in some discussion about it while I was waiting for the performance. This cannon has had a troubled existence, as R+ fans would know: sometimes it straight up hasn’t worked, and it’s been redesigned several times, ranging from a disturbingly realistic look to a flesh-coloured polygonal creation. This current version is the least realistic of all the dick cannons R+ have ever used. It’s just like, metal. Visibly. They haven’t gone to the extra trouble of painting it flesh-coloured. My guess is that this is because it fits with their current chrome/dark aesthetics better, R+ aren’t a band to neglect that kind of detail. As long as it works and the audience is aptly showered, what’s the problem? Let’s do it quick! 😀 And now this is entirely too many words about dick cannons, so I’ll move on.

20. Rammstein (Herzeleid)

‘Ramm-stein!’

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. It is past ten o’clock and the skies have gotten dark, though not so dark you can’t see the black smoke spiraling into the air with each burst of fire. A plane flies by far above into the distance and I appreciate the poetic irony. I think I would have been happy enough if they’d ended the performance on this note, but there’s one last song left.

21. Ich will (Mutter)

I can’t think of a better finale.

This song is exactly what you’d expect, with an additional sprinkle of fireworks punctuating every pause in the lines ‘Seht ihr mich? / Versteht ihr mich? / Fühlt ihr mich? / Hört ihr mich?’. Like always, audience participation is mandatory, as is the audience showing off their hands. It is the perfect way to end the show: it’s a classic favourite, it’s neither too bright nor too grim (avoids ending on a downer note), and it’s a song exclusively written to highlight a togetherness between band and audience. ‘Ich will’ could end every R+ concert it features in, in my opinion, regardless of theme or era... and it will always be appropriate.

The concert really ends after that. It helps that Till addresses his farewell to us as ‘fucking Milton Keynes’ (in a wholly fond way) before they depart. I won’t speak about the details of how they leave, because that’s almost a small show of its own, but trust me when I say I was in tears.

I say that like that didn’t happen at least three times during the concert.

----------------------------

After it’s all over, I... don’t get to go back to my hotel and sleep. Not after a lot of waiting, anyway. Over 30,000 people are trying to leave this stadium all at once, the traffic congestion is awful and there are pretty much no taxis/uber rides available in the couple of hours following the concert. I eventually end up sitting in the McDonalds (only 24hr restaurant nearby) with queue buddies until roughly 1am until the surge goes down and I can pay the amount I promised myself for my uber.

I could have gone back earlier. I budgeted over a hundred pounds to see myself through the price surge, in case it didn’t go down as quickly as I hoped, or if I urgently needed to get myself out of danger. It was just that the predictor was showing something like fifty to eighty quid for a ten-minute ride back to my hotel and, like. Fuck that. There’s being able to ‘afford’ it, and then being able to afford it, and I can think of better ways to spend fifty pounds.

And to be honest, after over a half day of hunger, even McDonalds was one of those better places. I had a meal and a Sprite before I could get out of there. It was probably the first time I’d had something resembling a legit meal in two days and if I hadn’t been so ecstatic I think I’d have been depressed. Then I got back to my hotel. Made myself a hot chocolate with brandy. Passed out on my bed around 3am, then got back up around 7am to enjoy a nice morning bath and get myself back home. It was around 5pm on Sunday when I returned to Brighton, ears still ringing, feeling on cloud nine.

So that’s me. Future concertgoers, take as many opportunities as possible to go see Rammstein’s current tour live. Front row may be near impossible if you aren’t a LIFAD member and/or get pre-releases for the Feuer Zone (although Milton Keynes didn’t have that) but try to get as close as possible, anyway. It is not an experience to be missed.

Though also bring an umbrella, maybe. If your stadium allows it. It was a fucking trip surviving 12+ hours in the great outdoors and then immediately being rained on while on front row 😰

23 notes · View notes

takaraphoenix · 6 years ago

Text

I get to move back home tomorrow, because renovations are coming to an end, and honestly I am just so fucking glad. Because I was not made to endure the amount of screaming that is done in this household. About food.

I was screamed at today because I... didn’t want to eat an hour after the last meal?? Like, how can that possibly be a thing?

Look, I understand my grandparents are an older generation and for some fucked up reason do old people like to get up ass-early so they “have more of the day” (whatever logic that is. I just... stay awake four hours longer than you?? So my day is actually longer than yours??? If anything I have more of the day than you do?).

So they eat breakfast earlier and thus eat an early lunch.

My own food rhythm is getting up about 11-ish and eating breakfast around 12-ish. Lunch is around 4PM and dinner around 8 to 9PM.

And it’s fine that my grandparents eat breakfast at like 8AM and thus have lunch at 1PM.

I have actively tried to adhere to their time-table at first. Like, skipping breakfast. I mean, seriously, whether I eat breakfast at 12PM or just wait another hour and eat lunch with them makes virtually no difference to me.

But my grandfather has then proceeded to come into my room five times in the hour between 11 and 12 to ask me if I want breakfast, if he should toast bread for me, if he should put something out for me or make me something. And I perfectly politely declined and told him I’m a grown-up who can get and make her own food.

This wears you down after two days though. So I figured “Alright, I’ll eat breakfast then if he’s being so pushy about people needing breakfast and then I’ll just not eat lunch”.

Today, they made rolls. You know, the ones you stick in the oven all ready and then they come out warm and nice. And they left four for my brother and me; two for each.

I got up at like 11 or so and grandpa immediately started with “You can eat two rolls, they’re in the dining room”. While grandma started the day with “We’ll go shopping now”. And okay. I concluded from that that I should eat breakfast now and not worry about lunch.

Literally an hour later they got home again and my grandma told me she’d start lunch now. So... obviously I told her no, I’m not eating with them since I literally just ate the TWO rolls that grandpa told me to eat for breakfast.

And my grandfather just explodes in my face about how WRONG my sleeping schedule is and how WRONG my eating habits are and how it’s not okay that they’ll now have to eat just the two of them and how I’m not gonna eat lunch like a normal person but will then go and grab food at 4PM and that’s all off.

I do not like being yelled at. I really don’t. And I’ve worked all my life to the perfectly sweet, nice granddaughter so my grandfather will not yell at me, because I love him a lot. And it just... completely throws me off when he yells at me, because he normally does not do that. Not with me.

See, I’m the favorite. I know that. I’m his firstborn grandchild. I’m the only one who isn’t a major fuck up in some way (they know my brother smokes weed and, well, they know he’s gay... they don’t know I’m gay, then there’s my cousin who drinks and smokes weed too even though he’s only like 16 and his sister who recently bit and beat her teachers up).

I don’t like being yelled at. Not when it’s justified and certainly not because I’m literally just trying to please him! He keeps pushing and pushing that I should eat breakfast and then I eat fucking breakfast and then I get yelled at that I can’t eat a fucking hour later again.

And it just... it all stands in no relation at all. Because one moment he yells at me about how messed up it is that I eat lunch at 4PM, the next moment it’s 11PM at night and I walk into the kitchen to get something to drink and he asks me if he should make me dinner. And he means it. It’s not like in a mocking way or something, he is literally ready to make dinner at 11PM, because grandma just did that for my brother half an hour ago.

How do you complain about my unhealthy eating habits when you continuously, at the whackiest times ask me if you should make me food? How do those two things fit together?

And that was just today. Every day, there is yelling and somehow, at least once a day, someone yells at someone else about food in some capacity.

The other day my brother ordered a pizza and our grandma ran through the entire apartment yelling at just everybody about it. Grandpa literally hid in my room so grandma wouldn’t find him to yell at him about my brother’s pizza.

It’s messed up. I know. My family’s kinda messed up. But I am just... looking forward to getting back home where I can eat what I want when I want it without a) someone yelling at me, b) someone yelling at someone else, or c) someone constantly coming into my room asking me if I want to eat something, literally multiple times an hour.

#food #Phoe's Personal Stuff #about me #phoe's family #the joys of living with my grandparents and brother

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crescentmoon223 · 5 years ago

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Two Worlds Collide Chapter 8

Read it on AO3 | Rated: NC-17 | Stella x Scully

Stella floated on her back in the pool, kicking lazily. Scully had been right, of course. She hadn’t managed two laps before the searing pain in her chest forced her to stop. The darker part of her mind urged her to keep going, push through the pain to the blissful calm on the other side, but there was Scully sitting like an angel on her shoulder, reminding her she could make her injury worse, give her boss another reason to keep her benched. Above all else, she needed to get back to work.

So, she kicked her way slowly across the pool, arms floating at her sides, watching the reflection of the water ripple across the ceiling, mesmerized by it. Coming here had still been a good idea. The water buoyed both her body and her spirit. The scent of the chlorine was as invigorating as caffeine. Just returning to her local pool for the first time in two months felt like a win, however small.

She’d be back tomorrow.

Knowing she’d regret it if she attempted to haul herself up the ladder, she instead made her way over to the steps in the shallow end and walked out of the pool. After a quick shower, she was on her way home.

But her flat, although it sparkled after yesterday’s fit of cleaning, was still just as empty. And while she felt somewhat calmer after her trip to the pool, her body still buzzed with unspent energy. She stood in the kitchen, fingers tapping restlessly against the countertop as she stared at her phone, debating her options.

She and Scully had already spent most of the last twenty-four hours together. Logically, they needed space, time away from each other. Everything about Scully screamed more than sex. It always had. The strength of the connection between them had scared Stella in her youth, and it scared her now.

She’d made the decision a long time ago to put her career first. Some people simply weren’t suited to relationships, and she was one of them. It was perfectly fine for her to accept this about herself, to take what she needed from her sexual partners without derailing her life or her career.

But a quiet night at home alone wasn’t in the cards tonight, not while she was feeling like this. And since she couldn’t work and couldn’t swim, that left sex. Sure, she could go out, find some random man, and let him fuck her, but the truth was, there was only one person she wanted to see, to touch and be touched by tonight.

And that person, while potentially dangerous, was only in London for two months. How much could really happen between them in that amount of time? Scully had been temporary before, and she was temporary now. Maybe the universe had sent her Stella’s way for a reason, a perfectly timed distraction while she recovered from Belfast.

Once they both got back to work, they’d barely have time to see each other, even if they wanted to. So really, they just had this one week. And even Stella was capable of a relationship lasting a week.

Decision made, she picked up her phone and composed a quick text.

Dinner at my place tonight?

And then she bit down on her lip, waiting for Scully’s response.

Sounds perfect. What can I bring?

Just yourself. Stella followed that with her address and a time, and then she headed to the market, relieved to have something—or more accurately, someone—to occupy her evening. She didn’t often cook. Usually, she didn’t have the time for it, not when she was busy with work. She enjoyed eating out, picking fancy things off a fancy menu and having them brought to her without any further effort on her part.

But tonight, she was looking forward to cooking. Tonight, she needed something to keep both her mind and her hands occupied until Scully arrived. She browsed through several websites touting “easy date night meals” on her phone, swearing under her breath as she tried to find something she could eat. Eventually, she decided on a lemon chicken pasta dish. She’d just leave the chicken off her plate. God, she missed meat. She was so fucking hungry.

She quickly gathered all the ingredients she’d need, paid, and went home. Back in her kitchen, she poured herself a glass of wine and put on some music, a relaxing playlist to set the mood. And then she set to work. She was so caught up in cooking, she lost all track of the time, and the next thing she knew, Scully was knocking at her door.

Well, fuck. She’d meant to go upstairs and change before Scully got here, freshen her hair and makeup, but here she was, still wearing Scully’s jeans. At least she’d put on a clean shirt when she showered after her swim. She turned down the heat on the stove before she walked to the door.

Scully stood on her doorstep wearing black jeans and a blue top that highlighted her eyes while perfectly setting off the crimson hues in her hair.

“Blue is your color,” Stella said as she invited her inside. “You look lovely, and I’m a mess. Sorry. The time got away from me.”

“You look perfect,” Scully said, sliding her hands around Stella’s waist to kiss her. “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” For a moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes, smiling.

“You smell like chlorine,” Scully said, but her tone was teasing not chastising.

“I was careful.”

“Good.” She pulled Stella in for another kiss, this time adding enough tongue to make Stella forget all her well-laid dinner plans. “Because I need you limber enough for other activities later tonight.”

“Won’t be a problem,” she murmured against Scully’s lips as a delicious ache spread between her thighs. Then they were kissing again, bodies pressed together. With Stella in bare feet, Scully had a slight height advantage, and she put it to good use, hands roaming everywhere.

“I know I just saw you, but…I missed you.” She smiled against Stella’s lips, hands on Stella’s ass, pressing their hips together so tightly Stella was considering throwing out the chicken in favor of taking Scully directly upstairs to bed. Fuck that, she could take her right here in the foyer.

She drew in a shallow breath, mindful of her ribs, and blew it out. “You’ve hardly had a chance to miss me,” she deflected, as if she didn’t feel the same way.

“I know.” Scully released her, tucking a wayward strand of red hair behind her ear. “Whatever you’re cooking smells really good.”

“Lemon chicken pasta.” Stella led the way to the kitchen and poured Scully a glass of wine.

“Thank you,” Scully said as she accepted the glass. “Will you be able to eat that?”

“I can eat the pasta.” Stella adjusted the heat on the pan and stirred the sauce.

Scully settled herself on a stool. “Can I help with anything?”

She shook her head. “It’s just about ready.”

“If you’d told me when I landed in London yesterday that I’d be sitting here tonight watching you cook dinner for me, I’d probably have laughed.”

“Any other week, it would have been a laughable idea.” Stella checked the pasta, tamping down her discomfort over the domestic scene she’d inadvertently created here tonight.

“Well, I’m extremely sorry you’re facing an inquiry at work,” Scully said, her expression sobering. “But it’s an awfully lucky coincidence that I’m here and also not working this week. I think we can sufficiently distract each other so we don’t get bored.”

A smile tugged at Stella’s lips as relief tingled in her veins. Yes, Scully’s timing was impeccable. In fact, Stella wasn’t sure how she’d have made it through the week without her. She took plates out of the cupboard and dished up two servings, one with and one without chicken. She’d never tried this recipe before, but it smelled good, and the sauce had thickened the way it looked on the recipe page, which she took for a good sign.

“If it tastes like shit, we’ll have to improvise,” she said with a meaningful lift of her eyebrows.

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Scully took her plate and her wineglass and followed Stella to the table. They sat across from each other, beginning to eat in a comfortable lull in the conversation. The playlist Stella had started earlier was still going, and it set a nice ambiance to the meal. “It’s delicious,” Scully said.

Stella couldn’t argue with her. She was by no means a chef, but the meal had turned out nicely, and having Scully here with her was a definite plus. They chatted casually as they ate, and Stella had refilled both of their wineglasses by the time their plates were clear.

Scully looked up, eyes glossy in the lamplit kitchen. “Thank you. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I enjoyed a meal like this with someone. I forgot how nice it could be.”

“You’re welcome.” Stella lifted her wineglass and sipped. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shared a homecooked meal with a romantic partner either, but she’d also never lived with anyone. Scully had spent over a decade with Mulder. What had it been like, if they never shared a quiet meal together?

They walked to the kitchen together. Scully insisted on rinsing their plates while Stella cleaned up the leftovers from the stovetop. She’d just finished scooping the chicken into a container when Scully’s arms slid around her waist from behind, her chin landing on Stella’s shoulder. For a moment, they stood like that, just breathing in the closeness between them before Stella spun in her arms.

She pressed forward, capturing Scully’s mouth with her own, walking her backward into the countertop so she could better leverage her position. She slid one of her thighs between Scully’s, and Scully angled her hips against Stella’s, fitting them together perfectly. And then they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

They kissed until Stella had forgotten everything but the feel of Scully’s lips on hers, the swipe of her tongue, and the scrape of her teeth. Their hips moved together until Stella thought she might combust from the friction building between them.

“Upstairs,” she whispered, disentangling herself to lead the way. They were quiet as they climbed the stairs, both of them breathing heavily. As soon as they’d crossed the threshold into Stella’s bedroom, they were on each other again, hands groping at clothing, fumbling buttons and pushing down zippers. And then Stella was flat on her back in bed with Scully straddling her, jeans still dangling from one ankle.

“Time for me to thank you properly for dinner,” she said as she dipped her head, sucking at Stella’s nipple through the fabric of her shirt.

“Is that so?” she managed, squeezing her eyes shut against the onslaught of pleasure coursing through her veins.

“Mm hmm.” Scully pushed the shirt up to her breasts, and Stella raised off the mattress to help her pull it over her head, grimacing as pain knifed through her chest, stealing her breath. Wordlessly, Scully pushed her against the sheets, pressing a hand over Stella’s ribs in a way that reduced the blinding fire in her chest to mere embers. “Just breathe,” she whispered, and Stella did, exhaling shallow breaths against Scully’s palm until the worst of it had passed.

“You’re good at that,” she whispered.

“There are benefits to having a doctor in your bed,” Scully told her, gently tugging the shirt over Stella’s head without further aggravating her ribs. Stella shook her foot, and the jeans fell to the floor, leaving her in only her bra and underwear. “You’re so beautiful,” Scully said, running her hands down Stella’s body in a reverential sort of way.

Stella shivered beneath her touch, uncomfortable with her words but too turned on to really care. Scully quickly stripped to her own underwear, further distracting Stella with the sight of all that smooth, creamy skin contained beneath black lace.

“Did you wear that just for me?” she asked, reaching up to grip Scully’s ass, guiding her back to Stella’s hips.

Scully grinned as she settled herself against Stella. “A wise woman once told me I should buy pretty lingerie just for myself, and I took her advice.”

“Good advice,” Stella quipped, biting her lip as Scully rolled her hips directly over her clit.

“It was.” Scully flattened herself against Stella, kissing her fiercely as her fingers worked the clasp on Stella’s bra. She freed Stella’s breasts, lavishing them with the full attention of her mouth and fingers while Stella arched beneath her, seeking more, needing more, even as Scully bit down on her nipple, making her gasp with pleasure.

Scully transferred her mouth to Stella’s other breast as one of her hands hooked beneath the lace band at Stella’s hip, tugging her underwear down her legs. Stella steadied her breathing in anticipation of her touch. She could feel that she was already drenched in her own desire.

“Been a while since I’ve done this,” Scully said as she kissed her way down Stella’s stomach. “Let me know if I’m rusty.”

“I can’t imagine you will be.” Stella’s skin flushed hot, her pussy throbbing as her hands reached for Scully, needing something to hold onto. She gripped Scully’s shoulders as she settled between Stella’s thighs, looking up at her with a smile that melted away any last hesitation she might have harbored about giving herself over to Scully this way.

Scully swept her hair over her shoulders before leaning in to press a wet kiss against Stella’s inner thigh, and she held her breath, nerves tingling, shooting sparks through her veins. Scully placed the flat of her tongue against her, licking slowly from Stella’s entrance to her clit, and she grasped the sheet beneath her, clenching it between her fingers as a breathy moan escaped her lips.

Scully worked magic with her tongue, enveloping Stella in the wet heat of her mouth. Stella pushed one hand into her own hair, pinching her nipple with the other, while Scully jabbed her tongue so far inside her she saw stars. Scully licked and teased, sucking at Stella’s clit until her whole body seemed to pulse with need, hips grinding against Scully’s mouth.

“Fuck me,” she gasped, muscles trembling as she struggled to keep her thighs from clamping around Scully’s head.

“Mm,” Scully responded, the sound vibrating against Stella’s wet skin, and she arched her back, no longer aware of her cracked ribs, no longer aware of anything beyond Scully’s tongue and the orgasm coiling inside her.

Scully pushed a finger inside her. Stella looked down, and their gazes locked. Scully’s eyes seared into hers, embers burning in their blue depths, so fucking sexy she stole the air from Stella’s lungs and the sense from her brain, turning everything inside her liquid hot and thrumming with need.

She wanted to freeze the moment, make it last forever, and then she just wanted to come against Scully’s tongue, wanted it so badly she could hardly breathe. She flung her head back against the pillow, panting as Scully added a second finger, pumping in and out as her tongue swirled over Stella’s clit.

And just like that, she broke, pleasure rippling through her in waves of scorching heat. She exhaled in relief, absorbing every moment as the restlessness that had been fizzing inside her all day evaporated, replaced by a bone-deep satisfaction that no one but the redhead currently sprawled between her legs had ever been able to provide.

She’d let other people go down on her in the years since she first met Scully, but it was never this comfortable, this intimate. She’d forgotten the difference, and now she feared nothing else could ever compare.

“Not so rusty after all,” she managed after she’d caught her breath.

Scully crawled up her body to press a lengthy kiss against her lips. “Glad to hear it.”

***

Scully drifted awake slowly, like she’d been skimming along the edge of consciousness for a while. It was dark in Stella’s bedroom, quiet, and she had no idea what time it was. It could be two in the morning or six. Jetlag was a bitch who had completely messed up her internal clock. Two nights in a row of screwing Stella’s brains out hadn’t helped either.

She turned her head, looking for a clock, but instead found herself facing Stella’s blonde curls splayed across the pillow. She lay on her back, one hand pressed against her chest, breathing in shallow pants. Her eyes were closed, but she was definitely not asleep.

“Hey.” Scully touched her shoulder, feeling Stella flinch at the contact. “You okay?”

Stella nodded, turning her face away from Scully.

Clearly not okay. “Stella…”

“Hurts more at night sometimes,” she said quietly.

“Especially after sex and swimming, I bet.” Scully brushed a hand over Stella’s cheek. “What did they give you to take?”

“I can’t remember. I don’t like to take it.”

“Do you have trouble with narcotics?” Scully asked carefully, remembering the scars on Stella’s legs, knowing that one form of self-harm often accompanied another.

“No, but they make me feel spacey. Can’t concentrate.”

“That’s okay in the middle of the night, I think,” Scully said. “Would you like me to bring you one? You should at least take some ibuprofen.”

Stella said nothing, tension radiating off her in the darkness.

“There’s no reason not to—”

“I’m fine.” Stella attempted to roll away, but the breath hissed out of her as she flopped back, her hand again pressed against her ribs.

Scully rested a hand over Stella’s, feeling the shudder that wracked her body with each exhale, wishing there was more she could do to ease her pain.

“Go back to sleep,” Stella whispered, turning her face into the pillow.

“Not a chance,” Scully told her, giving Stella’s fingers a squeeze. “I’m lousy at this too, you know. They say doctors make terrible patients, but I think cops might be worse.”

Stella was quiet for a long moment, and when she finally spoke, her voice was hushed. “The prescription bottle is in the cabinet in the bathroom.”

“Okay.” Scully slipped out of bed before Stella could change her mind, padding downstairs to fill a glass of water. Back upstairs, she located the prescription bottle. Based on the number of pills inside, Stella had only taken two or three since she’d been released from the hospital. Scully shook one onto her palm and brought it with her into the bedroom.

She set the pill and glass on the nightstand so she could slide her hands behind Stella’s back and help her sit without further aggravating her cracked ribs. Stella grimaced as she came upright, hands gripping Scully for support. She squeezed Stella’s shoulder in sympathy before handing her the pill and the glass of water. Stella swallowed it quickly and slumped back against the pillow.

“Let me,” Scully said, sliding closer. She pressed her palm against Stella’s chest, wrapping her fingers around the curve of her ribcage, applying compression to the fractures the way she’d done earlier. Gradually, Stella relaxed beneath her touch, breaths evening out. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Her voice was soft, eyes shut.

“Want to talk for a bit, or are you ready to sleep?”

“I don’t sleep well these days,” Stella admitted.

“Been there,” Scully told her. “Med school taught me to sleep whenever and wherever I could, and for years, I carried that with me through the FBI. I could sleep on the plane on the way to a crime scene or in the car while Mulder drove us through some Godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere chasing monsters.”

Stella was quiet, listening, breathing steadily beneath Scully’s palm.

“But it all catches up to you eventually,” Scully whispered. “The ones you didn’t save, the killers who went unpunished, especially if they managed to deliver a few blows before they left.” She paused, measuring her breath to match Stella’s, forcing herself not to tense up, not to back away from what she was about to say, because Stella needed to hear it. She needed to hear it more than Scully needed to protect herself from sharing it. “I shot a man once. I mean, I’ve shot a lot of men. I even shot Mulder once.”

At this, Stella’s breath hitched in surprise. She turned to look at Scully in the near darkness.

“In the shoulder,” she clarified. “He was about to do something really stupid, and it was the only way to stop him. He’s lucky I’m a good shot.” She smiled softly at the memory. “But the man I shot—the one I meant—his name was Donnie Pfaster. A real crazy sonofabitch. He liked to cut off women’s hair and fingers after he killed them and keep them as souvenirs. He kidnapped me, tried to add me to his collection, but Mulder showed up in the nick of time with reinforcements.”

“I’m sorry,” Stella murmured.

“It shook me more than I ever wanted to admit. He went to prison, but he escaped five years later, and he…he came after me again, this time in my apartment.” She paused, allowing the fear, the helplessness to surface inside her for the first time in years. Of all the times she’d fought for her life, this one had perhaps been the most terrifying. “He overpowered me, tied me up in my own fucking closet while he ran a bath. He was going to wash me, wash my hair, paint my nails. That’s what he did. That was his ritual.”

Stella quit breathing for a moment, stiffening beneath Scully’s touch. She’d read that Paul Spector had rituals too with his victim’s hair and nails. Maybe it was what had driven her to tell Stella this story.

“Anyway, I got free. We fought, and I was able to grab my gun. Mulder came busting into my apartment at about the same time.” She swallowed hard, heat crawling over her skin. She’d never admitted this next part to anyone. Only Mulder knew, because he’d been there. “I could have cuffed him. I could have let Mulder cuff him, but I…I shot him. Right there in my living room.”

“Fuck,” Stella whispered.

“I didn’t sleep for a long time after that.”

“Sometimes I wish I could have shot Spector,” Stella admitted quietly. “I felt so helpless, lying there on the floor while he kicked me.”

“I know.” She leaned in to kiss Stella’s cheek. “I know.”

“My whole fucking team watching on the closed-circuit television.” Stella’s breath caught, tears glistening in the moonlight. “And I just…lay there. Why didn’t I fight back? He wasn’t a very large man. I should have been able to subdue him.”

“He blindsided you, Stella. You weren’t expecting it.”

“I’m always expecting it,” she whispered.

Scully thought those might have been the truest words she’d ever heard Stella speak. Her armor was always on, always waiting for the next blow to land. “Even the best of us get caught off guard occasionally. You are not weak, or helpless. Spector bruised you, but he didn’t break you.”

Stella swiped the tears from her cheeks. “Sometimes I’m not sure.”

“Well, I am.” Scully pulled her close, holding on to her in the dark, fiercely protective of the woman in her arms.

After a moment, Stella broke free of their embrace, maybe because of her ribs, but probably, she just needed her space. And maybe it was crazy, but as she rolled away, Scully felt closer to her than ever.

#Two Worlds Collide #fanfic #Stella x Scully #stella and scully

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edwardfuckasshands · 6 years ago

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We Can Always Come Home

Here it is :v @dbhevents My Secret Santa gift for @birooksun If you absolutely hate it, feel free to tell me and I’ll gladly write you something better.

Pairing: Gavin Reed/RK900 Tropes: Hurt/Comfort. Literally. Wordcount: 4,194 Summary: Gavin gets hurt, and like the man-child he is, he initially refuses help from his nonhuman partner. Ao3 Mirror

"You never fail to surprise me, Detective Reed."

Four hours. Six minutes. Thirty eight seconds.

Not a particularly long period of time. Less than a work day. More than a movie. Just long enough to make almost anyone uncomfortable if they were to sit in place for the entire duration.

It's even less ideal when said person is physically unable to get up and leave.

"I'm meant to adapt to the vast unpredictability of humans, yet I find myself unable to track you down in a reasonable amount of time. My apologies."

"I don't need your pity, tinman."

The rough, strained voice came from a bloodied and half-frozen man that'd been handcuffed to a chain link fence. For four hours and a fistful of minutes he'd been attempting to break free. To call for help. To spit in the eyes of his attacker. Despite his determination to leave, and even in spite of how badly he wanted to beat the hell out of the guy that left him for dead in all the same ways they did to him, he refused to call his partner.

"Hold still. I'll try and make this as painless as possible."

With his hands bound above his head as he sat helplessly in an alley, Gavin Reed didn't have much of a choice. He didn't eat breakfast that day, and after the first blow to his skull, his condition only went downhill. He couldn't stop his attacker from tearing holes in his favorite maroon hoodie or from getting blood all over his jeans. With the way his head swam and his stomach churned, he could barely manage to hurl insults at the toaster he considered his partner.

...Partner.

He used that term loosely.

If you consider an untied knot loose.

"Can you stand?"

"Does it f'cking look like I can?"

Nines, Richard, Conrad... whatever people decided to call the damn thing. He didn't care. Nines stayed out of his way for the most part, kept quiet, and knew how to use a gun. Even if it was just an over glorified Connor clone, Gavin liked him better than the talkative freak.

Maybe ‘liked’ was too strong of a word. Gavin tolerated him at most. Plus, the RK900 model, in Gavin's opinion, looked a lot cooler than its predecessor. For starters, he was taller and had striking silver eyes that worked like a charm when interrogating suspects. And instead of that dopey semi formal outfit you'd expect from Connor, Nines wore a sleek white suit jacket with a fancy high collar. It... still looked kind of dumb, but most androids were pretty stupid looking by default.

"There's a hospital less than two miles from here. I'll-"

"No hospitals."

Nines looked down at the shaking man being carried in his arms like a princess. Even after being beaten and left for dead, he still seemed far too proud to admit he needed help from a machine.

"This isn't the time to let your pride get in the way, Detective."

"Ain't about pride." Gavin glared at Nines to the best of his abilities, though numbness in his face made this difficult. "I can't afford it. Even with my insurance, I'll be in debt until I die."

Nines sighed- a useless action for someone lacking the need to breathe. "Fine. I'll take you home and do what is necessary myself."

"Just leave when we get there. You're not my babysitter."

"No, I'm not-" he briefly repositioned Gavin his its arms so his head could rest comfortably on his shoulder, "-but I may as well be at this point."

Even if Gavin had all his strength, his slaps and punches against Nines would have the same effect on him- that being nothing. Still, Nines didn't particularly enjoy being poked in the optical sensor, so like the manchild he was, Gavin's shivering body had been placed as gently as possible in the back of a police cruiser so he could drive in peace. Ah, but it should have known better. While he no longer had to worry about physical assault, Gavin still managed to run his mouth for the entirety of the trip to his rundown little apartment.

"Shoulda gone faster when you rounded that corner," Gavin said while being scooped back up into Nines' arms. "People on bikes are worth ten points."

"I probably would have if murder wasn't illegal."

"Nothing's illegal if ya don't get caught."

As much as they bickered and joked about each other getting run over or falling into a woodchipper, the two undoubtable had some kind of chemistry together. While it depends on how you look at it, they got along better than they did with anyone else back at the DPD. Nines could handle any of the insults thrown at him and heave them back with twice the speed and burn, all with a nearly deadpan voice. He enjoyed Gavin's gross sense of humor and, at the very least, understood his apathetic outlook on life.

"I'm serious, though. You don't have to stay here and look after me."

"And if I want to?"

"Then you better get to fixin' before I bleed out."

Nines wanted to comment on the fact that he stopped bleeding before he un-cuffed him. Or how he really would be perfectly fine after a simple shower and a warm meal, albeit a bit sore and with a few open wounds. Unfortunately, with Nines essentially being deviant the moment he stepped out of the box, he couldn't comfortably leave a poor, defenseless, injured human all alone. With free will comes responsibility, and sometimes he wished he had neither.

Gavin clutched at his side while Nines sat him on his couch before going off to do whatever the hell he wanted. Did the couch always make such a loud noise when he sat on it? He couldn't remember. He knew his shitty one bedroom open kitchen apartment could use a good cleaning, though. He also knew he didn't have time to do more than clean himself and take out the trash every now and then. Most days he just came home, ate, maybe showered, maybe threw some laundry in the washer or dryer downstairs, and went to bed. This obviously left his residence looking a little sad, perhaps even bordering on depressing.

"I've drawn you a warm bath," Nines said upon returning.

"You're not washing me."

"I'm not. I'm going to be helping you is all."

One cautious trip to the bathroom later, Gavin began to squirm around in Nine's arms. He was a grown man- one who fell asleep with an ice cream bucket on his head once, but a grown man nonetheless.

"If you want me to let you down so badly, then here." Rather coldly, Nines allowed his arms to fall and all but forced him to stand on his own two feet. "I won't get in your way. All I ask is for you to provide proof that you will not die if I leave you alone for five minutes."

"I'm fine, goddammit. Go make yourself useful and clean something, whydont'cha?"

As much of a front he put on, it soon became painfully obvious how badly Gavin required assistance. He couldn't take his hoodie off without lifting his arms, and whenever he tried to do so he took dramatically long pauses in an attempt not to scream. Every muscle in his upper body ached, his ribs were sore, and each breath made him aware of how much effort it took to draw air into his lungs.

"I'll help you if you let me."

"F'ck off."

Gavin gritted his teeth as he grabbed the hem of his hoodie and pulled it up and over, taking his undershirt with him until the fabric tumbled off his bruised skin and onto the floor below. He shot Nines a triumphant smirk, showing it that he didn't need an overpriced ken doll's help. It wasn't easy, and he never wanted to do it again, but he proved the tincan wrong.

"I stand corrected. You didn't need my help after all."

A toothy smile made it way across Gavin's face. "Damn right." Dumb robot. Of course he could do it himself.

"I suppose you have the strength to keep your arms up long enough for proper cleaning."

Shit.

If he didn't want to half-ass his bath, he'd need to really scrub his upper body, which required him to keep his arms elevated for an extended period of time. Hell, he could barely stand on his own two feet for much longer. How did he expect to thoroughly wash up?

"If you're still eager to help and all, I mean- it's not like I need your help, but-"

"I understand, Detective. Things are naturally easier when someone else does them for you."

"Yeah! See, you get me."

Nines assumed things would go far less smoothly and would take a lot more convincing. After all, he'd never seen Gavin so exposed before. Prior knowledge of humans and their obsession with privacy lead him to believe he he'd be a little more... modest.

"I got an order for you," he began as he sat on the edge of the tub. "Don't open your eyes until I say so."

DON'T OPEN YOUR EYES UNTIL I SAY SO

Free will or not, Nines prided in being able to follow instructions to the letter- annoyingly so, most times. He very much had the ability to ignore him and do anything it pleased. If he wanted to, he could leave the DPD, become a fishman and never set foot in Detroit again.

"I won't open them until you tell me to."

However, shadowing a man who would fight a rabid raccoon for a breakfast burrito proved to be far more entertaining than the idea of catching salmon.

After waving his hands in front of Nines' face, Gavin got to work stripping down and setting foot in his bath. He groaned and bitched at his jeans and how his blood made them stick to his legs, thus causing his sore arms to cry in agony as he tugged them off. Thank fuck he worked faster with the incentive of a warm bath to soothe his aching bones.

"You just gonna stand there or what?"

"I hadn't realized you'd gotten in the water already."

"Shit, dude. You got ears, don't you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. How nice of you to notice."

"Shut up."

Nines knelt down and fumbled a bit looking for a wash cloth he swore he saw hanging off the side of the tub just a second ago. He wanted to lather it up and get right to scrubbing, though Gavin's various open wounds likely wouldn't agree with such hasty actions. For the time being, he used the damp cloth to gently clean away the blood and anything else sticking to his skin.

"Easy on my back, all right?"

"Understood."

Gavin quickly settled in to the feeling of someone else's hands touching him for the first time in ages. Nines did a fairly decent job not cramming the cloth into any of his cuts, and when said injuries needed to be cleaned next, Nines was incredibly gentle. His fingers traced along his skin to feel where he'd been hurt, and in the process of getting to know him so intimately, Nines discovered he had a few bruised ribs and a distinct lack of any broken bones or internal bleeding, leading him to believe that most of his pain came from general soreness and the various superficial scrapes.

What a drama queen.

"You have impressive muscle definition, Detective."

A wet hand quickly shot up from the water to clamp over Nine's closed eyes, which, for the record, was not a pleasant sensation for either of them. "I told ya not to look!"

DON'T OPEN YOUR EYES UNTIL I SAY SO

"I haven't looked. I'm merely commenting on what I can feel."

At the word ‘feel,’ Nines traced over a seemingly sensitive spot near Gavin's side, eliciting a rather interesting noise from him, the likes of which Nines never heard before. It almost sounded as if he was in pain- the way his heart rate increased indicated as much. Despite this, he didn't quite groan nor did he lash out at Nines for hurting him.

"Sorry. Did that hurt?"

Nines felt Gavin tense up.

"I'm fine-!" In a single swift motion, Gavin pushed him with a considerable amount of force, causing him to fall backwards. "You can open your damn eyes when you shut the door behind you. I'll shout if I need anything."

Nines gave a few adjustments to his suit after leaving the bathroom. What pain... He was just trying to help. Didn’t he see that?

Even if his words discouraged him some, Nines didn’t want to give up on being helpful just yet. Gavin would have to eat soon lest he risk his health deteriorating any further. What did he even have in that pathetic little fridge? Eggs, milk, butter... Nothing substantial, but it would have to do. He had bread somewhere, didn't he?

"Detective?" Nines knocked on the bathroom door with a free hand while the other daintily held a plate in its palm. "I made you something to eat."

The sound of frantic footsteps and rummaging through fabric rumbled on the other side. "Gimme a minute! Can't a guy get dressed in peace?"

"I'll leave this on the kitchen table, then."

"Wait, wait-" Gavin leaned against the door, causing a soft thud to resonate through it, "-uhhh can you put it on the little table in front of the couch? I don't... I don't really eat in the kitchen."

"All right. It will be here when you get out."

But what table was he talking about? He didn't have a coffee table or ottoman or... anything. Just a rundown grey couch big enough for one person to sleep on if need be. Upon closer inspection of it, leaning against on of the arms was a wooden TV tray; a simple, single-person table.

It's better than seeing him eat off the creaky hardwood floor.

Probably.

"You really went through the trouble to cook for me?"

Gavin emerged from the bathroom looking less like a greasy, bloodied weasel and more like his regular weasel self. He donned put on a less torn-up set of jeans and hoodie, and while they didn't appear clean enough to look straight from the dryer, they contained minimal holes and no visible blood.

"Of course. You haven't eaten in quite some time-" he stepped out of the way, giving Gavin room to sit down and eat, then sat beside him, "-and if memory serves correctly, all you had for breakfast was a stale bagel and a cup of black coffee."

"Yeah. Well, not all of us get our daily bread from that soylent blue stuff you suck down."

Nines remained silent as Gavin took his first few bites. The warm, sweet smell coming from his plate was unlike anything he ever experienced before. Even after downloading a cooking program and learning how French toast should look and smell in theory, being around it firsthand was an entirely different experience.

"Why you starin' like that?" Gavin asked prior to swallowing a bite of breakfast-for-lunch. "Don't tell me you're hungry."

"Physically, no. But I would be lying if I said I didn't want to try it."

Gavin furrowed his brow. "You didn't taste it before you served it?"

"There's no need since I followed a highly rated online recipe to the T."

A strong sense of... something... tightened itself into a knot in Gavin's chest. What the hell was it? It felt like guilt, just slightly to the left and upside down.

Setting down his fork, he gestured towards the plate. "You can just... go ahead and taste it if ya want. Not like you got any germs I gotta worry about. And, I mean you made it and all, so..."

His gesture, while flattering, didn't suit him at all. Where was the man who'd rather shovel the rest of the food in his mouth before sharing it with an android? Not sitting beside Nines, apparently.

"Either have some before it gets cold or f'ck off."

Ah. He didn't leave after all.

Oddly enough, the maple syrup drizzled and smeared over the ceramic plate caught Nines’ eye over everything else. What an odd concept- pouring what is essentially liquid sugar over your food. As if humans needed any more sugar in their diets, what with it lacing basically anything that isn't fresh vegetables.

"Yes. Of course." Nines scooched in close enough to touch Gavin by simply leaning an inch or so to his left. By doing so, he just so happened to notice a bit of the aforementioned syrup clinging to the corner of his mouth. At first, Nines thought nothing of this. Humans are imperfect and bound to make mistakes.

Then the theoretical lightbulb over his head couldn't have burned any brighter.

Nines grabbed ahold of Gavin's chin with enough force to move him but enough slack for him to pull away if he so desired. He briefly looked into his eyes, searching for signs of hesitation or fury, and after finding none, his own closed as he leaned in to decisively lick the corner of his mouth. The overwhelming amount of sugar from the syrup and rough stubble of his beard proved to be a unique and completely new set of sensations, and along with this new set of information he quickly found himself craving more than a lick.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Gavin froze completely up. Being touched so suddenly was one thing. Having someone like Nines behave tenderly... He didn't know what to make of it. His face burned and his heart pounded against his sore ribs. This just couldn't be happening. There's no way Nines licked his damn face. No way Gavin didn't immediately shove him off the couch and beat him with one of the cushions. No fucking way Gavin closed the distance between him and a machine until their lips were one word away from properly touching. Surely, he wouldn't be so desperate for physical affection that he'd resort to getting it from his non-human work partner.

And yet.

"You're dangerously close," Nines commented in a deep, whisper-like tone. Half-lidded eyes wandered down to Gavin's lips, hesitated, then slowly made their way back to meet his gaze. "I can back away if you're uncomfortable."

Gavin wanted to be smooth and reach up to grab the back of Nines' head or at least his neck or shoulder. With his arms in the condition they were, he hardly managed to weakly grasp at the front of his coat.

"Are you trying to push me away or pull me in?" The question fell sarcastically from his lips much like the puzzle of Gavin Reed fell into place. The noise he made after being touched, his constant insistence on being near Nines, the fact that he hadn't begged for a replacement or for him to continue his work alone all painted the most hypocritical of pictures.

Not letting go of his head, Nines dragged a finger along his jawline, earning himself the sight of his jaw clenching. "I may already know the answer, but I digress. I find myself unable to take any further action without your permission."

Gavin swallowed hard. His throat hurt. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest. The majority of his body felt as if it may spontaneously combust. What the fuck. He couldn't. He wanted to. Damn did he want to. More than anything.

"...I see. I apologize for misreading the situation."

And God help anyone or anything that got in the way of what he wanted.

Nines assumed Gavin didn't have the energy to properly turn him down. Maybe his pride got the better of him. Maybe Nines completely misunderstood his body language. No matter the case, he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Even the least respectable of people have the basic right of personal space.

The very moment Nines backed away was the instant a shot of sheer determination ran through Gavin’s veins. In spite of the pain, he powered through it long enough to drag Nines forward until their heads nearly collided. He still couldn't reach the back of his neck like he aimed for, but he had a fairly decent grip on his shoulder, which turned out to be all he needed.

A sharp tug yanked Nines forward and he felt Gavin groan against his mouth in striking detail amidst a somewhat messy though not unwanted kiss. A momentary pang of pity stabbed him in the chest only to be rapidly washed away by his melting thoughts. He expected things to be a lot more rough- perhaps a bit of biting or being pushed up against the nearest surface that'd hold his weight. However, Gavin treated him with the same patience and gentle touch that'd been tending to him all afternoon.

Any and all pain floated outside Gavin's body just long enough for him to take everything in. From Nines' shoulder, a hand trailed up the side of his head and ran through short, tidy hair. He allowed his mind to cloud with lukewarm static as the remaining dead air between them grew smaller and smaller.

Nines nearly collapsed into his lap with as close as Gavin insisted on them being to one another. He snaked an arm around him in an attempt to keep him from falling onto his back, thus preventing any future bitching about how much it hurt to stay upright. Speaking of staying upright, Nines himself had trouble doing just that. He nearly slipped into him twice, and the moment his body decided to relax, his mind soon followed, which lead to quite a few unique thoughts popping up. Consequently, said thoughts caused both his mind and mouth to wander in places they arguably didn't belong. Lips steadily moved away from Gavin's, then took their sweet time kissing along his scruffy jaw and finally down to his neck. His head interfered with the latter, so like any sensible android, he used his free hand to tilt it and give him more room to work with.

Gavin kept shifting his weight around and making these... sounds. These soft, out of character grunts and hums that progressively became louder. His mind struggled to claw any sense of semblance together and found nothing amongst the haze of his flushed skin and the android exploring it with his mouth.

"Detective."

Air caught in his throat as the sound of a familiar, dominant voice brushed past his ear. Gavin's eyes fluttered open to see Nines pull away and stare him down with that striking silver gaze of his.

"Your temperature has increased substantially."

"Oh yeah?" The crack in his voice failed to keep his sarcasm is check. "Gee, I wonder why."

Gavin could have sworn he saw Nines smile and heard him let out the faintest laugh through his nose. If his temperature was high before, it certainly wouldn't be going down any time soon.

"Are you all right, Gavin? Were my actions too straightforward?"

Gavin.

Nines rarely ever used his first name, and when he did, the situation usually turned out to be far more serious. Gavin, don't do that or you'll get shot. Gavin, I warned you about this. He always said it in that stern, cold voice of his as well. Yet way he spoke to him on the couch didn't give of the impression of Nines being upset or annoyed in the least.

"I'm fine. Jus-" he held his abdomen and momentarily gritted his teeth "-tired and sore as shit."

Nines' LED swirled yellow. What a hassle to be able to feel pain. And what an almost equal hassle to empathize with those who suffer.

"I can carry you to bed if you'd like to rest up."

A pause.

"Yeah. Sure. Do what you want."

Bridal-style had been deemed Gavin's choice mode of transport as of late. He could easily hold onto Nines for extra support, and with him being in such a compact position, relocating him became easy as walking. But first things first, Nines needed to pull him into his arms before he could stand. Getting up first would only complicate things. So for a brief time, Gavin sat snuggly in his lap.

"Is it okay for me to stand now? Detective Reed?"

Apparently, being cradled in someone's arms while simultaneously having no energy left is the perfect recipe for even the most stubborn of men to fall asleep. Gavin's head rested comfortably up against his shoulder, and he could easily hear his deep, relaxed breathing. He failed ro recall having ever seen Gavin look so comfortable- and in the clutches of an android, no less. If he were more of the emotional type, he would have felt more joy from the smidge of pride welling up inside him.

Though he still managed to smile.

"As always, you are excellent at keeping me on my toes."

#dbhsecretsanta2018 #reed900 #detroit: become human #dbh #fanfiction

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emtheanxiousdragon · 6 years ago

Text

Haven't You Noticed (You're all Liars)

(This fanfic was inspired by @akl1 and her story Untold, a good read.)

AO3 Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/15848499/chapters/36911838

Masterpost

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

Something Entirely New (Prolouge)

Summary- Deceit gets a new power

-----

There was something about being known that sent a shiver of excitement down Deceit’s spine.

Yes, he loved hated his role in the shadows. It was exhilarating boring to see Thomas listen to his words, follow his instructions. And if Virgil decided to try and tell Thomas something Deceit didn’t want wanted to be said? If Logan decided to poke holes in his words? A flick of the wrist would shut them up, and Thomas wouldn’t suspect a thing. Their frustration delighted annoyed Deceit to no end. The manipulative Side even quieted the others when there was no need perfectly good reason to! So much fun annoyance.

Sitting in the audience of the mind’s theater, watching Creativity and Thomas play right into his little game, was one of the greatest worst things Deceit had ever experienced. They totally knew what was truly happening. Sure Thomas’s realization of the lies was annoying fun, but the face he made as Deceit dropped his disguise like a snake shedding its skin? Priceless Worthless.

Afterwards, things felt… different the same. The shadows Deceit loved hated had faded grown inside the mindscape. His grip on Thomas was weaker, like someone had taken a tissue and ripped away one of its layers stronger. Thomas was far less more willing to listen to the wise words Deceit had to say. However, while his control of Thomas weakened grew, other things grew weakened. Deceit hadn’t been able to transform into something or someone besides another Side, but now, he could become anything nothing else. Joan, Talyn, Terrence, Valerie, anyone, Deceit could take all none of their faces. He wanted to ask Logan why this was- why did he gain this ability now? Why didn’t he have it before Thomas recognized him? perfectly understood why this was happening. But then there was the other thing.

It had been a normal morning in the Mindscape. Virgil sat on the couch, listening to some song or another, as Deceit crept in the background, unnoticed. Virgil had helped Deceit perfect his hiding technique back when Virgil was still willing to talk to him Deceit had taught himself how to hide his presence long ago. Since he wasn't welcome in the living room of the Mindscape with the others, hiding suited the snake just fine. Logan floated up from the ground, giving a quick nod to Virgil before padding off into the kitchen. He opened up one of the cupboards, and his face immediately transformed from his neutral, thinking expression to rage.

“Virgil!” Logan shouted, slamming the cupboard door. Virgil jumped slightly, flipping his hood back and taking off his headphones.

“What?” Virgil snapped.

“The jar of Seville Orange Crofter’s I have been saving for after my research is missing,” Logan snapped.

“Just summon another jar of it,” Virgil huffed. “It’s not a big deal. Ok, I ate it but come on I’m allowed to have Crofter’s you don’t have a monopoly on it don’t hate me again. ” Deceit almost revealed his presence was completely calm and relaxed. Virgil’s mouth had not moved during that last sentence, and Logan did not react. He didn’t understand completely understood what happened.

“I am far too focused on my research to summon a jar of Crofter’s, that is the entire purpose of having a kitchen stored with food,” Logan grunted. “Everyone knows that one must tell me if they take a jar from this cupboard.”

“Roman probably took it and forgot to say anything great job Virgil, throwing Roman under the bus ,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“I was saving that flavor as a reward for accomplishing a certain amount of work,” Logan grumbled. Virgil shrugged again, slipping on his headphones.

“ Sorry, Logan ,” Virgil said. But wait- he didn’t say it. He thought about it. Deceit had to didn’t need to think about it. He slipped back to his room, leaving Virgil to his lies.

Over the next few days, Deceit slithered around the living room more and more, watching the others, testing the waters. The words he heard from the others were not the words they said aloud, but their lies. It was surprising unsurprising how often they lied to one another. Many times, it was over simple, petty things.

“That was a terrible joke even by dad jokes standards, it was just poorly written and conceived Good one, Pat!” Roman exclaimed one day.

“I trust you all had a pleasant night?” Logan asked another morning. “ I spent the entire night eating Crofter’s and planning out potential video ideas for Thomas. ” The lies were hilarious boring. The only thing Deceit could think of to make those moments better were to reveal those petty lies to the others.

“Got any Kings, Roman?” Virgil asked one night during a game of Go Fish Patton had dragged the other three into, as the four Sides sat around the living room table.

“Go Fish,” Roman said. “ I am not giving up my royalty to you, Virgella De Vil. ” Deceit couldn’t pass the opportunity up. He popped into the living room directly behind Roman. The other three barely had time to jump before Deceit pried Roman’s two Kings away from the prince with his yellow-gloved hands and tossed the cards to Virgil. Deceit tipped his bowler hat and dropped through the floor as the room filled with Roman’s stammering explanations and Virgil’s steely glare. Deceit had to hide in his room and laugh for a half hour afterward. Moments like those always made ruined his day.

Of course, not every lie was quite so petty.

“ I just had a panic attack imagining you all kicking me out of the group and making me the outcast again and I probably got Thomas anxious in the process, ” Virgil said as he entered the living room late one afternoon and settled on the couch next to a bubbly Patton and Roman.

“Oh, me?” Patton laughed during a group meal. “I just wanna hide in my room and remember when things were better. I miss the old days. It feels like things will never be as good feel fine, kiddo!” After that meal, Patton arrived in his room to see a new stuffed snake toy sitting on the couch. He asked the others who left it there, but they all denied the gift. They were n’t lying.

Deceit had never before experienced the new power he felt now that Thomas knew he was a part of him. He didn’t understand understood it, he didn’t understandunderstood the other Sides, he didn’t understandunderstood himself. Each of the Sides told one another lies. Deceit was not the only deceptive Side inside of Thomas, it seemed. They acted as though there was nothing between them, yet each kept their issues from the others. Their talk about the bond they shared was simply that.

So yes, the power that came with being recognized sent excitement down Deceit’s spine. But it also sent fear, frustration, anger, and annoyance down his spine. The novelty of hearing everyone’s secrets bared flat before him was wearing thin. It was only a matter of time before that novelty broke.

----

(Feedback is appreciated! I apologize if there are any typos in here.)

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #haven't you noticed (you're all liars)#sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #em the anxious dragon #em the writing dragon

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the-chubbiest-dumpling · 7 years ago

Text

Bad Day

Summary: You asked Sebastian to go over some lines with you, but you don’t show up at the designated meeting place. When he finds you unable to get out of bed, he takes it upon himself to brighten up your day.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 6650

Warnings: Swearing. Crying. Vulnerability.

You’ve known Sebastian for a while now.

You first worked with him in The Covenant, starring as one of the main protagonists, Sarah Wenham. Though you two didn’t interact much in the film, you got the chance to work closer with him on the show Kings as the role of his sister, Michelle Benjamin. From the beginning you could tell he was a very serious actor that loved what he did. You heard that he got the role of Chase Collins by videotaping himself in his kitchen, performing the scene where he goes to the Dean’s office to speak with him. You, on the other hand, auditioned in person like a bunch of other girls, and eventually got the role. Sebastian got the job on the spot. And when you worked with him on both projects, you were blown away by his acting, and his kindness.

You developed feelings for him in no time.

The third time you worked together was on the set of Gossip Girl. You managed to land the main role of Serena van der Woodsen, the lead protagonist, while he Carter Baizen. You were both happy to see each other, and caught up during set breaks and off-set as well. You were also super excited to find out that he’d be playing your boyfriend for some time, and to be able to kiss him. You really hoped that he couldn’t tell how happy you were about it, though you were bashful at times when you knew he couldn’t see you. He was overjoyed to be working with you again, and expressed it the very day he arrived on set, with a giant hug.

That smile will always punch you in the gut.

Over the years, you continued to send your congratulations of his achievements via text after exchanging numbers. From landing the role of Bucky Barnes in the MCU, to T.J. Hammond in Political Animals, to his iconic role of Lance Tucker in The Bronze (to which you couldn’t stop laughing), and to his most recent role of Jeff Gillooly in I, Tonya. You always complimented his acting abilities, especially when it came to expressing emotions in a subtle way. He paid the compliments back with some of his own, his favourite being how you go in and out of a role so fluently. And how your ridiculous shenanigans on set made him laugh.

Seeing him grow up and being able to even know him has been a privilege. You have no idea how he’s him. He’s so caring and generous and kind and funny and heart-warming and so incredibly talented. And handsome, of course. Can’t leave that bit out. You have different work schedules, so you don’t see him as often as you’d like, but you still text from time to time.

This is one of those times.

Two days prior, you had asked him to go over some lines with you. You had gotten your script a week ago, and reading them by yourself at home just wasn’t cutting it. It was lacklustre compared to doing it with your co-star and director present. And since neither of them were available to help you, you called up Sebastian and asked for his help. He readily agreed, and promised to meet you at a private coffee shop in the city to go over them with you. Today is the day you two confirmed to meet, at the designated time and place, but you’re not there.

In fact, you’re not even awake.

Your week began slow and steady, with an overall jaded mood. You didn’t know what was dragging you down. You felt fine for the most part, but as the week progressed, your mood decreased and you became agitated and stressed. You ate less, and became exasperated from doing simple tasks, like cleaning and doing laundry. You just didn’t have the energy for it.

It’s just one of those days, you had told yourself. But it felt like more than just having a crappy day.

Today just happens to be the worst of it.

You first woke up at nine o’clock in the morning after going to sleep at three the previous night. That was a regular thing for you: going to bed especially late and waking up in the afternoon. You got up to go to the bathroom, got something to drink, then went straight back to sleep. The next time you woke up was at two in the afternoon. The room was darkened as much as possible, but the sun still shone through your blinds annoyingly. You looked at the time, and sighed. You didn’t know what was wrong. You just didn’t want to do anything today. The only thing you were willing to do was sleep.

And sleep you did.

You manage to fall asleep for another two hours before waking up in a haze. You thought you had slept right into the next day, but it was only four in the afternoon. Even opening your eyes feels like a task you cannot complete. They burn from sleeping so much, and from rubbing them every so often. You stretch your arms and legs, but otherwise stay curled up in your nice, comfy, warm blankets.

However, you decide it’s finally time to wake up. But not get out of bed. You unplug your phone from the charger, and instantly groan from seeing all your notifications. Your phone was on silent the entire time, so you heard none of the phone calls, nor the worried texts that Sebastian made. You feel incredibly guilty for making him worry, but one look at his texts throws it out the window.

He’s on his way over.

Like, right now.

The most recent text was made thirty minutes ago, approximately the amount of time it takes to get from the coffee shop to your apartment. You grunt in frustration and drop your phone down beside you, and wipe your hands down your face.

“God damn it,” you hiss.

Sometimes you hate how worrisome he can be.

You live on the thirteenth floor of a twenty-story complex, giving you no time to clean up before Sebastian walks through the door. Your place is a mess, with dishes in the sink, clothes strewn on the floor, leftovers discarded on the counter, and abandoned laundry baskets left by the washing machine. You’re usually not such a slob, but these past few days have taken a toll on your mind. Since nobody really visits, there wasn’t much reason to do any of those chores. But now that Sebastian is on his way, you wish you could’ve just gotten off your ass and done it when it needed to be done.

Sighing angrily, you grip the sheets and pull them up to your chin, tuck your knees up, then close your eyes once more. You’re not going back to sleep, but a little eye rest will do you good before facing Sebastian. Seeing your messy apartment is one thing, but seeing you trapped in your bed and unwilling to get up is even more embarrassing. You have no idea what to say to him when he walks through the door.

Shit.

For reasons unknown, you left your door unlocked last night, which is completely out of character for you. You don’t live in a sketchy part of town, and you have nice neighbours, so there’s no real threat, but you’re nothing if not careful. Your carelessness scares you a little.

And no more than five minutes later, you hear a knock at the door, and the familiar, smooth voice you’ve come to love.

“_______?” Sebastian calls. “You in there?”

Even if you did raise your voice to confirm your presence, he probably wouldn’t even hear you. And let’s not forget the fact that you don’t even want him to be here. Well, be here and see you in this state. You’d rather him not see just how horrible of a week you’re having.

“_______?” he knocks again. When he doesn’t hear an answer, he grabs the doorknob. “I’m coming in.”

You hear the door click open, then pretend to be asleep in hopes that he’ll go away. But you know that won’t happen.

Sebastian haphazardly steps through your apartment, and takes note of how unkempt it is compared to his previous visits. He seemingly notices every little thing that’s wrong. It doesn’t feel right to him. He knows you like to keep your place neat and tidy for your own sake and that of visitors. He’s seen it a little bit messy, but not this much. There’s a certain smell to the air (that you’re the least bit proud of), and he finds the source in the kitchen. Dirty dishes and leftovers sitting on the counter. He puts his hands on his hips and pulls his lips to the side.

This doesn’t feel right.

“_______?” he calls out again, heading for your bedroom. The door is closed, so he quietly pries it open and peeks inside. It’s dark, but light enough for him to see you laying there, perfectly still, your shoulder moving the sheets up and down in time with your breathing. He says your name quieter this time, but you don’t give him a response. You bite your bottom lip and pray for him to go away, but he only comes closer.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently shoving your shoulder. He kneels down as you turn over on your side, with your eyes still closed. Knowing that you can’t keep up the charade anymore, you slowly open your eyes, and see his concerned eyes staring into you.

At first you act confused as to why he’s just waltzed into your apartment uninvited, but decide that that’s not the best route to go. You don’t want to yell at him; in fact, you don’t want to speak to him at all. It’s too taxing. So instead, you blink several times to get the sleep out of your eyes, and clutch the blankets.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, tilting his head. “You didn’t meet me today. I called you and sent some texts, but you never answered. Are you sick?”

Mentally, yes.

You shift your eyes to the left, avoiding his gaze. You have no idea what to say. You’re not just about to start blubbering about every little thing that’s wrong. Letting Sebastian see into your mind and how fucked up it is is not how you want this visit to go. So, being a “physical speaker”, you speak to him with your body.

You shrug your shoulders, and dart your eyes all over the floorboards when you can see his worried expression from your peripherals.

“Did something happen?” he asks, wanting to get to the bottom of this. He’s not mad that you didn’t meet up with him; he just wants to know if you’re okay.

You shake your head no, so he thinks of another reason why you’re laying in bed at four in the afternoon.

He goes the logical route.

“Bad day?”

You nod once, then pull the covers up higher to shield your mouth and nose. But the eyes are one of the biggest dead giveaways when you’re trying to hide the pain behind them.

“Have you eaten today?”

You shake your head.

“You need to eat something, _______,” he says gently. “Come on. I’ll make you something.”

He stands up and begs you to come with him, but you stay huddled up in your blanket cocoon. On a much better day you’d gladly sit in the kitchen and watch him cook you something to eat. But your mind and body is just not having it. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he really wants to see you get out of that bed. But you can’t. You just can’t do it.

Sighing, Sebastian comes back and crouches down beside you.

“I know it’s hard,” he starts softly. You dare to look him in the eyes. And when you do, you can’t look away. “I know that it feels like a chore to get up and walk, to eat, and to even speak. And that’s okay. But you can’t neglect yourself, _______. Otherwise you’re just going to be even more miserable than you already are. It might be a shitty time, but it’ll pass. Sometimes not as quick as you want it to be, and not always in the way you want, but with the right amount of care and patience, it’ll be alright in the end. So please, for me, can you come with me?”

He’s being so sweet and sincere, and here you are, being an asshole by not meeting him and making him come all the way to your place for nothing. You feel like he’s wasting his time by trying to get you to stand up and eat and probably shower. He hasn’t said it, but you know he can smell it. You’re so embarrassed by everything that you have to stop yourself from crying. You blink rapidly, and from being this close to him, Sebastian definitely notices.

“Listen,” he says. “I’m gonna draw you a bath. Make sure to use it before it gets cold.” He chuckles, which in turn makes you smile the tiniest bit. “While you do that, I’ll make you some late lunch. Okay?”

You can’t refuse him, so you nod. He nods back, then stands up again and takes his leave, keeping the door open. You hear him turn on the water, and even plugging the drain. You hate, but love that he’s doing this. It really means something when you know that someone genuinely cares. And that fact is enough to make you emotional.

You stretch once more, but still don’t have the strength to toss the blankets away. It’s too warm, and you’re too comfortable. But having a bath is probably–definitely–what you need. You trust that the bath will be warm, so closing your eyes tightly, you kick your covers to the end of the bed, and shudder from being exposed to the chilly air. Step One done. Now comes the hard part.

Getting out of bed.

Slowly, but surely, you drag one of your legs closer to the edge of the bed before letting it fall to the floor. You do the same with the other, and soon enough, you’re halfway there. But then you stop.

That’s enough progress for one day.

You’re stuck in that position for a minute before Sebastian comes back to retrieve you. When he sees half your body hanging off the bed, he has to smile. You look so ridiculous, but he has to be somewhat serious about it. He’s here to make you feel better, not make fun.

“Come on,” he says, walking up to you. “You’re almost there. You can make it.”

He brings his hands forward and grasps yours. You squeeze loosely, but no matter the grip, Sebastian pulls you to your feet. You stand upright instead of just falling back on your bed, for his sake. He really is trying to help, so you might as well comply to his efforts.

He keeps hold of one of your hands as he brings you into the bathroom, your bath drawn and ready. He even dropped in one of your bath bombs to make it seem more inviting. There’s even a towel set aside, as well.

“You stay in here as long as you need,” he says. “And when you’re done, I’ll have something ready for you to eat when you come back out. Sound good?”

You still can’t find your voice, so you just nod again. Sebastian doesn’t mind. He does hope that he’ll hear your voice at least once during this time with you. But for now, he’ll leave you be.

“And promise that you won’t fall asleep again?”

You nod.

“Thank you.”

He gives a quick kiss to your head before closing the door behind him to tend to his other duties. You allow yourself a small smile, because his beard tickled your forehead. You look down, and stare longingly at the bluish-green bathtub. You might as well. It’ll be good for your body, and for your mind. And to settle some of Sebastian’s nerves.

You strip down and gingerly step into the tub, sighing loudly as soon as you submerge yourself in the warm water. The bath bomb is Lush’s The Big Sleep, which gives off a calming, woodsy lavender scent. Lavender is an herb that aids in sleeping, but you don’t plan on sleeping any time soon. Not while Sebastian is still here.

You soak yourself for about half an hour. During that time, you periodically heard Sebastian rummaging around in your kitchen. Cooking or cleaning, you don’t know. But just being able to hear him in your home is enough to keep you at ease. Better him than anyone else, in fact. He hasn’t judged you for anything. Not the state of your apartment, nor yourself. He’s completely understanding, and knows where you’re coming from. It saddens you to think that Sebastian might have had days where he didn’t want to do anything either, and that’s why he can relate.

You’re definitely going to pay back the favour if that moment ever presents itself.

After thirty more minutes, the water has gone cold, and you’ve had a thorough rinsing. You dip your head under once more before standing up and wrapping yourself in the towel Sebastian laid out for you. You sadly unplug the drain and watch the colourful water disappear until it’s all gone.

You honestly feel better after that, and even feel more awake.

You smell something mouth-watering from the kitchen. Whatever Sebastian’s making, even if you don’t like it, you’re going to shove it down your throat because he took the time and energy to do so. You squeeze the water from your hair and shake it, then firmly tuck in the end of the towel and quietly emerge from the bathroom.

You peek behind the wall, and see him making something in a pan. His jacket hangs on one of the bar stools, and he’s removed his shoes as well. He’s made himself at home, to which you don’t mind at all. It’s refreshing to see him do common, everyday things. Not wanting to disturb him or draw attention to yourself, to skip back to your room and kick the door shut. Sebastian manages to catch a glimpse of your back before you disappear behind your door, making him smile.

You take your time getting changed, even though you eventually settle on wearing sweats and a plain grey V-neck. You put your hair up to dry, squeezing out the last of the droplets and discarding the towel on the floor. You look at yourself in the mirror, pulling your lips to the side. You’re feeling better, but you don’t know if you’re in the mood to talk yet. Perhaps an affirmative grunt or a sigh or maybe even a laugh. Either way, you’ll know when you join Sebastian in the kitchen.

You decide to throw on a hoodie before leaving your bedroom again. You tiptoe into the kitchen, and muster a weak smile when Sebastian looks up and smiles at you. You sit down on a bar stool and cross your arms on the counter, setting your chin on top of them.

“Better?” he asks.

“Mmm,” you hum quietly. It seems he spent most of his time cleaning up, since the floors and counters have been cleared off, and all the dishes have been done. It’s extremely inconvenient to not have a dishwasher, but one of these days you’ll buy one. For now, you’re your own dishwasher.

You cast your eyes downward, avoiding any kind of visual contact with him. You love looking at him, but not when you’re feeling so awful. He takes notice of your crestfallen expression, and hopes to god that the tips he looked up about what to do when your friend is depressed alleviates some of your pain.

“I’m making chicken and shrimp stir fry,” he says after a moment of silence, showing you the pan. “I hope you like it.”

You glance up at the pan, then to his eyes, then back down at the counter. His expression falls a bit from your lack of reaction, but he’s not going to stop trying. Baby steps is better than trying to push everything on you all at once. Small chit-chat is fine with him; just as long as he can get the message across that he’s here for you.

He throws in some teriyaki sauce into the pan, mixes it around a little, then turns off the stove and begins plating. You hate it being so quiet, but you have nothing to say to him. You would if you could think of something intelligent or funny, but your feel as if your mood has gotten worse. Despite the bath waking you up, your mind is not at ease. It has its good days, but today is one of the foulest ones.

While you’re lost in thought, Sebastian places your plate in front of you, setting a fork down beside it. The clank of glass to marble makes you jolt upright in a fright. It really worries Sebastian when you seem jumpy; and he hopes it’s not for the reason he’s thinking of.

“C’mere,” he says, picking up his plate. “Let’s sit over there.”

He motions to your Lovesac–The Big One–by the window. You peer over your shoulder at it, then back to him. He’s smiling that soft, sweet smile. The one you can never resist. You know you’ll love sitting beside him on a big fluffy bean bag chair and eating food he made for you, so you gather your plate and fork and follow him to the chair. You sit down first, and balance your plate on your leg as Sebastian carefully sits down next to you. You can’t even look at him, not even when he’s this close to you. Then again, when the proximity is nearly face-to-face, it’s hard not to feel just the slightest bit uncomfortable.

You eat in silence, as both of you expected. Sebastian is incredibly patient, as he’s always been. And very observant. How slow you eat, how quiet you are, how you’re not willing to even glimpse at him; he doesn’t want to be hurt by the fact you don’t trust him enough to talk about whatever is bringing you down, but he knows it’s not that easy. It’s much more complex than that.

After finishing his lunch, he gets up to wash his plate and put it back in the cupboard. When he turns around, you’ve finished as well, so he takes it upon himself to do the same. He takes your plate, washes it, then stores it before flopping down next to you again. You tuck your knees up higher, and play with the end of your sleeves. Sebastian supports his cheek in his palm, and stares down at you sadly. He has no idea if one of his “accidental pep talks” would help you any, but he’s going to try anyhow. It pains him to see you not smiling; and if he can get you to smile genuinely before he leaves, then his job is done.

“I’m here for you, _______, I hope you know that,” he begins softly. He knows you’re listening when you stop playing with your sweater. “Good day, bad day, doesn’t matter. Whatever you want, or need to talk about. I’m here for ya, okay? You don’t have to say anything, and that’s perfectly okay. I just want you to know that you’re not alone in this. You can trust me.”

Your eyes well up with tears when he starts being sentimental. You’re not used to hearing these sort things in real life. In movies mostly, some you even acted out yourself. And even then it was difficult to hear. You don’t know why you can’t just accept help when it’s being offered to you. But you’ve managed to come up with a handful of reasons:

1. You don’t want help unless it’s too late 2. You don’t look/seem mentally ill enough to be offered help 3. You like the attention because you felt unimportant/left out by many people in your life in the past and present, but don’t take the advice 4. You think you don’t deserve it

The main reason is probably–

All of them.

You know how incredibly honest and kind Sebastian is, and you truly appreciate those aspects of his personality. But when the person you’re pining for says those things to you while you’re extremely vulnerable is a nightmare. You never wanted him to see this side of you. Others have, but you’d be damned if he ever saw it. And now, after years of knowing each other and working together, it has finally come to light.

The tears slide down your cheeks, and you hastily wipe them away. Your lip quivers, so you bite down hardly on it. Sebastian wraps his arm around you when you begin to become distraught. He feels bad for making you cry, but he had to let you know. Assuring someone that you’re there for them is one of the most important things someone can do for another. And Sebastian always makes sure that he’s there for the people he cares about.

He’s about to begin another tangent, but you cut him off.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you confess, your voice thick. You keep wiping your eyes as you speak, as the tears just keep on coming. “I felt fine at the beginning of the week. I was feeling great, even. And then I just… didn’t. I dunno if it was the people or my surroundings or what I had to do or I was anxious about everything and nothing or it was everything at once. All I know is that I just got so fucking tired and lost all my energy and motivation. I didn’t wanna get up, didn’t wanna do anything productive, and apparently, didn’t wanna go over my fucking lines with you. I’m so shitty that I couldn’t even text you back when I woke up the second time, or at all. And I was being rude to you earlier by not answering you.

Everything is just so overwhelming all of a sudden and I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself! My friend almost died the other day and I forgot to pay my rent and I don’t know if I did the right thing with agreeing to be on this new show and I’m going to fucking explode because it seems like life suddenly hates me! I try to put on a good front and wait until I’m by myself to just fucking cry about it, but it’s getting harder and harder to hide it and I’m scared that no one will shut up about this side of me!”

Your throat completely closes up so you can’t speak anymore. You’re a sobbing mess now, and shove your face in your hands so you can cry your heart out without him seeing. The sound of you squealing from crying so hard breaks his heart. He pulls you to his chest and rubs your arm as he attempts to comfort you.

“A lot of life is a struggle, _______,” he begins. “We just don’t see it all the time because our eyes are always trained to look for ‘happy things’, but life is always a struggle with beautiful moments in-between. We have to keep going. That’s all there is. And most of those beautiful moments, at the end of the day, are pretty simple. Good company with people that get you. Or being proud of a goal maybe you set for yourself. Anxiety is just part of our past. It’s always gonna be there as long as we are human because a long time ago it protected us. But now it’s like having an old alarm clock that still goes off even though you may not need it anymore. But everyone has it. Go forth, go forward. Take a few breaths and onwards we go. There’s nothing more heroic in the world than that.”

This time, his pep-talk isn’t accidental. He becomes the most heart-felt person when he sees a friend in some kind of peril. Despite that, he hasn’t had the chance to do it in person most of the time. A lot of the time has been on Instagram, and small snippets during interviews. He’s hugged a fan or two at a Con where they couldn't get through a question for him, but he never had enough time to hear a full-length explanation about why they’re having a bad day. Doing this with you right now it making him feel all sorts of things: pride, empathy, determination, love… he really wants to get through to you, and help you see the bright side on things.

But again, he knows–amongst other things–that not every person wants to feel happy during a time of great vulnerability. Preaching to you won’t help you any if you won’t take his advice. Do or don’t, Sebastian will still be there.

He physically feels you calm down, and hears that you’re full-blown sobbing has dwindled down to sniffling and light crying. You’re definitely not ready to talk yet, so Sebastian keeps ranting in what he hopes is the best way possible.

“And you know what? No matter what just be yourself. That’s it. Just be you. Whatever you feel walking into the room you feel. That’s your truth. Don’t deny it. Don’t fight it. If you’re nervous, you’re nervous. If you’re scared, you’re scared. Don’t try to change how you feel on the day. Embrace it. Mike Nichols said ‘bring your day to the stage’, meaning you bring what you’re going through that day to the work. Even if you’re nervous once you embrace it and go ‘this is me right now and that’s that; they don’t like it, well then, they don’t like honesty’ then you will relax into it. We spend too much time bullying ourselves trying to be other things. Be who you are. Own it. It’s okay to give yourself some love once in a while. Be kind to yourself as you would be to a friend in need.”

What you honestly can’t believe is all the sap that’s coming out of his mouth. You know he can be incredibly encouraging sometimes but this is just… wow. You didn’t know know that people could be capable of such perception and understanding. It blows you away, actually, that Sebastian took the time to say all of that to you in hopes that it would make you feel better. You appreciate his efforts. You manage to stop crying completely and just sniffle. Your throat is raw, and you’re sure you’ll need some Vics and pain killers, but you feel ten times better after having a big cry. Your head hurts a little, but other than that and your throat, you feel okay.

“You’re pretty fucking unpredictable, you know that?” you chuckle, wiping your eyes. You finally relax after being so tense, and avoid looking him in the eyes still. You’re not ready for that just yet. He smiles down at you, happy that he got something out of you.

“I try,” he laughs. He continues to rub your arm, and patiently waits for you to give him some sort of recognition to his words, but when he doesn’t get it, he decides to throw in another point.

“I have a therapist,” he says, which seems to grab your attention. You glance up at him once before staring back at his legs. “You can see him if you want. Or I could help you find one, if you’d like. I don't wanna shove this down your throat, but my offer will always stand.”

“I see,” you say. “…now I know where you get all your astounding advice from.”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get a lot of good guidance from him, but I throw in my own thoughts and opinions as well. Whenever I see people going through a bad time, I can’t help but just reach out to them and see if I’ll be of any use. And it makes me feel great about myself when I find out that I am. Making a difference in people’s lives is something that I’ve always wanted to do. And it’s very fulfilling to know that I am.”

Finally, you have the strength to sit up and face him. You wipe your eyes once more before looking into his eyes.

Bad mistake.

He’s got a mix of puppy-dog eyes and smiling like you’re the most important thing in the world. You’ve lost your voice, and your thoughts are scattered, but after clearing your throat and looking away from him, you manage to think of a response.

“I, uh. Um. T-Thank you for um. A-All of that. I don’t know what to say other than that I’ll… think about it.”

“That’s quite okay with me,” he smiles. “But can you promise me something?”

“I guess…”

“When you’re having a bad day, like today, will you come talk to me about it? You can text me, call me, meet in person. It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll always be around. And I promise you that you won’t be inconveniencing me. Above all else, taking care of yourself comes first. Say you have an illness and cannot come in. You matter, _______. And you hurt yourself by neglecting your health. So please, please, talk to me when you need to.”

You can’t push him away when he’s being this sincere. But you don’t want to push him away anyhow. How can you? You love him to death; closing him out of your life would benefit neither of you. Smiling, you nod your head.

“Okay,” you agree. “I will. Thanks, again. I–I can’t–“

You cut yourself off because you begin cry-laughing. You rub your eyes and laugh to shake off the new feeling inside you. Sebastian smiles widely when he finally hears the laugh he’s been waiting to hear. You look away from being embarrassed, but Sebastian just grabs hold of you and squeezes you into a giant hug. You squeal happily this time and hide your face again because he’s being so adorable.

“Sebastiaaan!” you whine.

His arms are so strong.

He loosens his grip, causing you to go lay across his lap. You nuzzle your face in the soft warmth of your Lovesac, then peek over your shoulder. He has his head back, and is giving you the biggest, toothiest grin. You can’t help but smile back just as widely.

God I love him.

You shift around so you’re sitting with your legs in his lap. You cross your arms and lay your head to the side. The way you look at him is like he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. And he is, he really is. Your eyes become heavy, but you blink rapidly to keep them open.

“I’m okay,” you say before he gets the chance to poke fun at you. “I’m awake. I’m alright.”

“Nah, I wasn’t gonna say anything like that,” he says.

“Then what?”

“You look cute when you’re cozy.”

You smush your face into the fur and pull your hood over your head to hide your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly to himself and pats your legs to get your attention. You don’t want to look, but you pull your hood to the side slightly.

“What if I stay here for the night, hmm?” he suggests. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m a lover of pizza and movies.”

You pull your hood away and cock your head to the side. He’s serious? He sounds serious. And he wouldn’t be smiling like that if he wasn’t. Biting your lip, you knit your brows together as you think. He’s just cleaned your apartment, made you some late lunch, and boosted some confidence in yourself. Plus, he made the trip all the way to the coffee shop, then to your apartment. It’d be rude to kick him to the curb. You smile softly at him.

“Alright,” you say. “You can stay.”

“Sounds good.”

For the entirety of the night, Sebastian is nothing but a bundle of laughs. When you can, you stare at him for as long as possible. You’ve fallen in love with every part of him; his face, his personality, his charm, his talents, his inspiration. From the first time you met, you already lost to him. Everything about him is so inviting and appealing; no one would be able to resist him. And as far as you know, no one has.

He’s still his useful, goofy self, and takes every opportunity to make you laugh. Making fun of the movie, telling a joke, eating his food weirdly, and even a funny story he has about his own personal life and things of the past. Anything to see you having a good time. Everyone has their bad days, and sometimes they need them, but Sebastian decided to cut that short. If he’s crossed a line and you actually wanted to be alone, then he’ll apologize profusely and leave right after. But so far, you’ve given no indication of that desire.

As the night comes to a close and you begin yawning and rubbing your eyes, Sebastian begins to turn everything off. He stores the leftover pizza in your microwave and helps you to your feet. But before you go to bed, you turn to face him.

“I really appreciate this, Sebastian,” you say. “I honestly didn’t mean to get that upset, but it just washed over me. So… thank you, once again, for making me feel better. I know it’s not exactly what you wanted to do today, and I’m sorry for that but… it means a lot to me. What you said. And I still can’t thank you enough for–“

Sebastian cuts you off by pulling you in for a hug. You’re a little dumbfounded at first, but you quickly relax into his embrace and wrap your arms around him. He strokes your hair and rubs your back while gently swaying back and forth.

“That’s enough of that, _______,” he says. “I’m always here for you, remember? For the good and the bad. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” you mumble into his chest. You close your eyes and breathe him in, smiling all the while. The hug lasts for a relatively long time, but it still feels too early when you pull away from each other. You both smile, and he ruffles your hair before sending you off to bed.

“Want me to be an alarm?” he asks as you walk away.

You stop as you grab the doorknob and look over your shoulder.

“I’ll be fine,” you say. “Feel free to use the big ass bean bag chair as a bed. But I have a guest room if you’d prefer that.”

“I think I’ll take my chances with the chair,” he confesses. “But thanks anyway.”

“Alrighty, then. Goodnight, Sebastian.”

“Goodnight, _______.”

The moment you enter your room and close the door, Sebastian waltzes over to the Lovesac and grabs a blanket from the couch. He steps out of his pants and jumps down on the chair, pulling the blanket close.

He feels so euphoric from being able to get your mind off things, and he wants to feel that way more often. He stares longingly at your bedroom door, and whispers a personal goodnight of his own before falling asleep.

148 notes · View notes

julyroots · 6 years ago

Text

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

A butthead. Muah.

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

Depends on the situation. I enjoy going out and doing things, but I also have social anxiety. Basically any time I have plans I have to give myself a mental pep talk and spend the next few days recovering.

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

A butthead.

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I think so. If you’re good at handling sarcasm and dry humor.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Yes. They already have.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Those who try and find the good in others.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Not outwardly.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

I have a feeling “butthead” is going to mentioned a lot in these questions.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Not really. I may be awkward about it sometimes, but I don’t feel uncomfortable.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Yep. Butthead is definitely going to be mentioned a lot in these.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

Shushkiss*

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

This changes constantly. I’ll just list the ones I’ve listened to more than once the past couple of days.

Time In A Bottle. Sympathy For The Devil. Big Rocky Candy Mountain. All My Tears. I Fought The Law.

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

God, yes.

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

I believe everything happens for a reason. Even if we don’t quite understand what that reason is.

15. What good thing happened this summer?

I adopted a cat who is as weird as I am?

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Every morning. Every afternoon. Every evening. Every night. Forever.

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

I think it’s naive to think we’re the only life out there.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

No.

19. Do you like bubble baths?

A bit too much.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

They’re alright ;)

21. What are you bad habits?

I can be oblivious about important matters. I procrastinate. Opening texts, getting busy, and never responding. Overplaying songs I discover until I can’t stand them. Not having a normal eating schedule.

22. Where would you like to travel?

Anywhere and everywhere I can. Want to see the great parks of the U.S. Then travel to countries of my heritage.

23. Do you have trust issues?

I think most people do. It’s something I’m consistently working on. Trying to give people the benefit of the doubt, until they give me reason not to.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Mornoons.

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

I try not to focus on judging my body too much. It’ll age and looks will fade with time for everyone. Guess if I had to say I’d say fingers. Short and stubby.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Stare at my ceiling trying to motivate myself to get up.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

It’s skin. It’s doing its job. I do not care about what color it is.

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

Butthead. And my furbabies. Both have seen and know too much.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

Pretty much all of them have tried to get me back with me at some point. Always makes me feel guilty. You can’t force yourself to love someone though.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

I use to want that. Complicated now.

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Nope. I can’t pull off a ponytail even when it is long enough for one anyway.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Ew. No.

33. Spell your name with your chin.

Gabbav

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

Use to. Softball, soccer, flag football, etc. Now I enjoy longboarding and occasional volleyball.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

TV. Music saves me.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Who hasn’t?

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

Something to make it more awkward.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Butthead. Thankful to say they’re not a dream.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

2nd & Charles, Mr. K’s used bookstore, any antique shop I can find.

40. What do you want to do after high school?

Bahahaha. Clearly I am too old for this website. You youngins.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

I think you can forgive someone, but I also think its perfectly fine to remove that person from your life if they’re toxic for you.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

Usually overthinking or daydreaming.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Probably a creepily amount.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

I’ve seen pictures of what can lurk at the bottom of some oceans.. I’ll take space.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Needing a paycheck, usually. Or letting my dogs out.

46. What are you paranoid about?

I don’t want to think about it.

47. Have you ever been high?

Yes.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Yes.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

I don’t think so?

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Green.

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

When I was younger. I’ve grown comfortable with who I am.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

My tendency to overthink.

53. Favourite makeup brand?

I’m not big in makeup. I only wear it when I want to prevent looking like death itself.

54. Favourite store?

2nd & Charles. All the blu-rays!

55. Favourite blog?

Don’t have one.

56. Favourite colour?

Green.

57. Favourite food?

Hibachi, probably. Pizza is a close second.

58. Last thing you ate?

Chicken biscuit from chick fil a.

59. First thing you ate this morning?

I didn’t.

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

4th grade Orange County Schools essay. 5th grade county choir show. Honestly I couldn’t tell you the official names of these. I forget they happened.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Nope. Goody two shoes.

62. Been arrested? For what?

Nope. Been driven in the back of a cop car across state lines, though.

63. Ever been in love?

Still am. First.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

Was a boy who lived in the neighborhood across from mine. We were always good friends. We were under a light post in my neighborhood at night. We were talking about first kisses. I said I hadn’t had mine. Few minutes later I looked away at something, he said my name, I turned to look at him and he landed one on me. Then the lightpost turned on and he said “Well it’s not fireworks, but..” I think I was 13 at the time. 9th grade. I wasn’t too happy about it at first, because I liked someone else, but in the end I was happy it was with him because we remained friends for years and the other guy ended up being a lot of drama.

65. Are you hungry right now?

No. I should be.

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

I don’t really have any. I rarely talk to people on here. I’m bad at responding to messages. Any friends I have in real life are coworkers really.

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Facebook.

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr.

69. Are you watching tv right now?

No.

70. Names of your bestfriends?

Eh. I’d really only consider one person to be my best friend. Who’d I want to share everything with and talk to constantly. lwwnm

71. Craving something? What?

Time with butthead. Always.

72. What colour are your towels?

Blue.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Four. I usually sleep on one, hold the other or lay my arm under it, and the other two are just to separate my head from my wall. Decorative.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

No. I sleep with real animals. And a hat.

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

Maybe two? One I just got this past Wednesday from a claw machine when I went to Sparetime. The other is Yoshi from Nintendo that my brother gave me years ago. They’re both in my closet.

75. Favourite animal?

My favorite animal is a Moxie. You’d understand if you met her. Honestly though, I couldn’t choose between cats and dogs. It’s a different kind of love.

76. What colour is your underwear?

I’m in the tub currently. It’d be pretty odd to be wearing underwear now.

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla.

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

I use to love Strawberry Cheesecake from Ben & Jerry’s. I rarely eat ice cream nowadays.

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Again. In the tub.

80. What colour pants?

Okay well BEFORE THE TUB— wait no I wasn’t wearing any pants then either.

81. Favourite tv show?

Either Frasier or The Nanny. I can binge watch the heck out of those.

82. Favourite movie?

Can’t decide.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

There was a Mean Girls 2?

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

Didn’t see 21 Jump Street. Show or movie.

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

I don’t know? I really don’t put this much thought into that movie.

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

Probably Peach. Sassy little starfish. “That was the shortest red light I’ve ever seen!”

87. First person you talked to today?

Butthead.

88. Last person you talked to today?

Hopefully butthead. I like to start my days with him and end them with him. Though, it’s not really possible when I work at 6:55AM and they’re asleep. Can’t really avoid talking to coworkers/clients for hours.

89. Name a person you hate?

I don’t hate anyone.

90. Name a person you love?

C. T. C. Butthead. Gorramit. Squashblossom. Turd.

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Nah. I often want to give someone a pillow whack though.

92. In a fight with someone?

No.

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

Legit sweatpants? One.

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

Maybe three sweaters. Too many hoodies.

95. Last movie you watched?

The Dirt.

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