#i’m off and in a mood today so i’m hoping to find the gumption to take photos/maybe record some audio stuff

[switchblade-serenade]

.🗳️

[builder051]

Happy. Starbucks. Sunday. OMG.

I’ve been vaguely around for the past couple weeks. Then we had to skip last week because DD and I were jamming to Bad Wolves and Papa Roach—totally worth it, by the way— It’s been so long since we’ve been able to make it to a live event that I actually can’t quite place our last concert in the timeline… I think it was Breaking Benjamin…before the pandemic. But, anyway, we deaf peeps love our hard rock and big noise. We’re seeing Greta Van Fleet again later this month (sssoooooo excited; this one is my fave), and have tix for Breaking Benjamin when they pass through in May.

This probably feels hella irrelevant, but I’m gushing, because, friends, I feel like I’m finally coming back home after a long forced sabbatical. I’ve been really ill since December last year, as in, operating on depleted body functions. I’ve had several Iron and IVIG infusions to get my basal metabolic panel to come back reading any slant toward normal. My main antipsychotic/mood control/migraine and (possible) seizure control med was taken away, for there’s literature that it, along with pretty much every other med on the planet, can have headaches as a side effect. I guess it’s a fair thing to try a taper-and-switch in a patient like me who has had zero relief from other established treatments, but, long story short, bigtime fail, many weeks taper off, realize mistake, a few more weeks to taper back on (so as not to induce a rash or psychotic episode), and finally, finally I get to about 3/4 of my dose, and I’m like, wow. If I just put the keyboard on the iPad for a few minutes, I wonder what will happen? And I’m actually willing to do it and find out, which is 10,000 steps up from a few days ago, when it was more like, can I get out of bed to go get a cup of tea, look at the blank schedule, and find something productive to do? Um, no. Cry on DD’s lap, then probably listen to NPR for an hour before either being colonized by a cat or getting the gumption to empty the dishwasher or smth, whilst feeling guilty I haven’t made creative content on any social media platform or done a project with the kids in living memory.

So, deep breath. Sorry for wasting your time and space. I trust you guys to look out for me, and I think you deserve to get a truthful explanation for why I’ve been kinda hands-off and flighty and turning out very few pieces that, well, aren’t that good. I’m back in my own, good, regular headspace now, and I’m so relieved. While this blog will always be an autocratic one-man show, provided to the public for free at my convenience, it will always also have a place for recs, reqs, and comment cards. I want to write what pleases me, and I want to write what pleases you. It makes me happy to see the likes and reblogs gain numbers. Yeah, I roll my eyes at a prompt here and there. Some of them are so positive, letting me know you want more/different iterations of things I’ve put up before. And sometimes you hit me with amazing ideas that make sparks fly.

Again, to summarize:

-I’m feeling much better. Probably better than I have so far this year.

-Hopeful the quality/quantity of things will pick up, but life is still very big and obstacle-y. (Baby is in hospital, I have tons of appointments, and just DD and I are home with the kiddos rn.)

-Please, my followers, continue supporting and reading and requesting and doing what you do. I love you.

And with that, here is today’s Starbucks Sunday plan:

-Classic prompt play, but with parameters, please:

-For Captain America, stick to Powers/No Powers or Whoa Bessie ‘verses. (The others with popular reqs either need a break or are getting an overhaul soon.)

-St. Patrick’s day/green beer is fine because DD said so. 🤣 Please no underage or Irondad and Spiderson.

-Bits and pieces that could use some attention, if you need some inspiration: Jonestown ‘verse, Clint + Nat + Laura, Whoa Bessie ‘verse pre-Steve (James struggling alone in the apartment or in therapy w/ Nat or Sam), Venom/Veddie (super fun to do in, like, 200-word bursts with minimal context, if you have a specific symptom or misadventure in mind)…

-Ask game is going up, feel free to play or ask a Q of your own.

- I’m going to try to stay in the time parameters as best I can (logging off around 6:30 PM US Eastern, Daylight Savings), because it helps DD and the bbs stay regulated (and me, too, really).

NOW— a couple things coming up:

- April is designated We fit like an Enfit (Tube ‘verse) month. I will be writing ONLY for that ‘verse during April, except during SS, when everything goes. I loosely plan to :

-finish/round up Cuts and Scrapes (currently missing part III)

-Catch you up with and iron out the timeline, starting from Steve’s diagnosis and leading off to where he is at “present” as a functional tubie x2, minus a colon, plus a BF with a spiffy arm and Bluetooth ears. There are a few, like, major event stories, I guess I’d call them? Like, not super long (or maybe super long, you know me, and this hasn’t made it from scribble notes to computer yet), but stories that would read like an episode of a TV drama series? That’s the best way I could describe them. I need to do 3 or 4 and place them among the stories I’ve already written for the ‘verse. The boys have this established backstory, I just haven’t had a chance to get it all written out yet!!

-take all your questions about everything related to Tube ‘verse and the likes. I tend to roll with medical slang when I write; it just seems to flow better that way, but I know some of you get it and some of you probably don’t. And for what things look like, feel like, anatomy, recovery, illness, intimacy, whatever… Be as nosy as you want; nothing is a “stupid” question, and if anything is out of bounds, I’ll answer for Steve, a fictional character with no say-so, and everything will be fine.

-Collect your Tube ‘verse prompts and see where you’re interested in seeing the boys go from here. I have a lot if work to do to prop the ‘verse up to look the way I want it to, but, seriously, going forward, I have yet to make any plans. I’ll obviously act as the executive, ensuring all fics are medically realistic and done up properly, but feel free to drop your ideas. Inspire me. Let me know what you want to read.

-And a scheduling note— I think things look good to keep pressing on as usual, but there may be a cancel here or there in the spring/summer timetable due to little buddy’s ballet performance timings. He’s doing amazing things—has medical challenges and tubes like me, but he’s gained, like, three levels’ worth of strength/technique/coordination in the past academic year. When he first started in the entry class, he couldn’t distinguish pointe/flex, do a push up, pick knees up and skip… and now he does pilates teasers on the living room floor just for fun, can do rond de jambes at tempo back to front and front to back, AND he’s holding passe balance so well that he’s leaning the steps to prepare for a pirouette!! Sorry, I’m being such a weepy little old millennial here, bragging on my kid, but I’ve been out of commission for all of 2022 so far, and seeing little guy excel in my playing field… it’s just the coolest thing.

Ah, sorry to bombard you with all that. To quote the late, great Tony Stark:

Go break some eggs.

[queenmuzz]

Deep Blue Sea:  Chapter VII

Cutting Questions

Read full on Ao3 HERE

I can’t believe I agreed to try this on. You stared at the multiple copies of yourself in the full body mirrors as you cringed at the multi-angle view of the monstrocity masquerading as a wedding dress.  It was far too floofy, with enough taffeta layers that made you think that you were a pure white pastry.  And the bodice was far too tight, even for just a try out.  You swore your lower ribs were being crushed as the lady pulled the laces of the corset, and it took all your willpower to not cry out.

“There we go…” she said, triumphantly, and she twirled you around so you could get a good look at every side of this disaster.  “We may have to let out the bust a bit, and a little at the waist, but you look stunning!”

I look like a goddamn jellyfish, was all you could think.

You waddled out, attempting to not trip over the fluff that obscured your legs, to face the duo that eagerly waited for your appearance.  Surely they would find it as ridiculous as you did!  But the look on your mother’s face was not encouraging.

“OH MY GAWD,” she said with tears in her eyes…”You are absolutely gorgeous!  The dress suits you perfectly!”

“I dunno,” you said, attempting to be diplomatic.  Last thing you wanted to do is be known as a bridezilla, “I’m not sure it fits me”

“Well, of course,” she crooned, “It’ll need some alterations, but you’ll feel like a princess walking down the aisle with it.  The congregation will love it!” She was obviously taking the word ‘fit’ literally.  “And what do you think, Sarah?”

You silently prayed that your best friend would at least have the gumption to say something.  “It looks nice….” she started politely “but perhaps it could use a splash of colour?”

Your mother’s eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together.  “Yes!  A light pink would really bring out the colour of the diamonds on your engagement ring.” She paused, pinched up her face and thought for a second, chin in her hand.  “Ah!  Sequins!  You need more sequins!  It’s all the rage wedding this season.”   She turned to the saleswoman. “You MUST have something like that!”

The saleswoman, surprisingly, was a bit hesitant, considering she was about to make a major commision off this sale gently prodded, “I’m sure the bride would love to add to the suggestions.”

“I was hoping,” you started, “That it would be a bit less ostentatious.  Something a bit more simple, less fancy”

“Nonsense,” your mother interrupted, “This is YOUR day, you need to go all out!  With luck, this will be the most important day of your life.” She turned back to the saleswoman.  “Money is no object, but my daughter MUST look her best for her special day.”

The lady turned to you, to get your approval, and you wanted to say something, anything to get out of wearing yet another hideous top designer couture, but that excited look on your mother’s face just made you hesitate.  You couldn’t bear to see her face fall as you told her what you really thought of that dress. (Pink?   Your mother had to know you hadn’t liked that colour since elementary school!) And how sequins just didn’t suit you at all, you preferred the slender, simple backless gown with the green sash at the waist, that stood at the front window.  (The sneer your mother gave at it when you suggested it was enough to shut your mouth.)

But it was late afternoon, and you’d tried almost a dozen dresses, and frankly, you were tired.  And when you really thought about it, you’d only be wearing the dress for one day.  Perhaps your reticence was unreasonable.  After all, your mother had worn three different wedding dresses throughout her lifetime, and perhaps she knew what was best for you, maybe you should just trust her.

“Very well…” you said, and your mom giddily followed the sales lady to the back. You flopped down inelegantly on the cushioned sofa, and sighed.

“You know,” Sarah volunteered hesitantly, “this is supposed to be YOUR day, you shouldn’t be such a doormat”

“I’m not a doormat!” you hissed, attempting to not cause a scene.

“Suuuure you’re not,” she said rolling her eyes, before looking back at the dress in the window. “I love you to bits, but man, you gotta stand up for yourself.  You keep letting your parents push you around, it’s not gonna ease up, no matter how much you give in to their demands”

You cracked, just a little bit, Sarah had a point.  You spent your entire life trying to live up to their standards, and yet, it was never enough.  There was always a way you were supposed to dress, a business you should look into, a new contact you should make, a man you were supposed to marry-.  You decided that you would let that train of thought leave the station.

“I can’t,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands resting in floofiness that was your lap, “they’re expecting so much of me, I’d be letting them down right now”

“Well,” Sarah countered, “you stood up to them before, when you said you wanted to go into Marine Biology all those years ago.  I remember the  horrific arguments you had with both of them, you even stayed with me for a few weeks until they gave in.  And look where it got you, a Doctorate in your dream subject, and the ability to do the thing you really love; explore the ocean!”

“That’s because I felt passionate about it, Sarah”

“So does that mean you aren't passionate about this wedding?”

You clammed up, any words in response died on your tongue.  Sarah, despite her veneer of benign cluelessness, was an expert at cutting straight to the matter.  Did you feel passionate about this wedding? Did you even love Fredrick?  Would you ever love him?

“We’re baaaack!” your mother’s voice smothered your thoughts and doubts as she and the saleslady brought out a dress that quite possibly was even worse looking than the one you were currently wearing.  You gave one last longing glance at the the beautiful dress in the showcase, and allowed yourself to be shepherded back into the dressing room, leaving behind a beaming mother, and a resigned best friend.

*****

The sun was low in the sky as you finally left your mother’s place, after wishing her and your newest step-father a good night.  Sarah gave you a tight hug, with a concerned remark that no matter what you chose, she’d have your back.   You knew that you were hurting her by going through with this, but it would work out in the end, you knew it.

You sat back in your driver's seat, pausing after starting the engine.  It had been a draining day, and all you wanted to do was to have a bath, wrap yourself up in some towels, make yourself and Vergil some food, and just chill.  Despite all the stress from the wedding plans, and the the steep learning curve of taking up the reins of your father’s company, talking with Vergil about anything, and yet nothing at the same time calmed you down immensely.  You always looked forward to those times.

But first, one last errand before you went home.  You told your wireless system to make the call, and as you pulled out of your mother’s driveway, the drone of a dial tone reverberated in the car.  A few rings, and your father’s voice answered.

“Ah, how’s my favourite girl doing?  Did you pick your dream dress out?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes, mom helped pick it out it’s a-” 

Your dad interrupted you, “Now now, don’t tell me, I just want it to be a surprise!  Just have your mother send me the bill, I’ll work out the payment”  You breathed a sigh of relief, you didn’t really feel like somehow describing the abomination that took the guise of a dress in a somewhat positive light.   

“Listen, sweetheart” your father said, “I’ll be out for a few weeks on business, accompanying your future father-in-law on a trip to check up on Fredrick, and maybe sign some more deals, so no ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Days’ for a while.  You got any concerns or any requests, you’ll have to call me.  Me and Mr. Sombra are on the cusp of a deal that will be mutually beneficial for both our family, and Fredrick’s.”  Another sigh of relief, one less stress point to deal with.  

Suddenly, in the background, you heard a popping sound, which sounded like fireworks, but the rhythm sounded off, it sounded like… Gunshots!?

“Dad!” you barked out worriedly, “Is everything alright?”

Your father’s response was cheerful and reassuring, “Ah it’s alright, I’m at the gun range, Mr. Sombra decided we should get to know each other better with our prospective hobbies while we work on this deal. I think I might be getting the hang of this gun thing, although I’ve gotta resist the urge to close one eye to do so.  Tomorrow, I get to show him the joys of breadmaking!” Your dad sounded as giddy as a schoolgirl to share his passion project, you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I gotta go, your future father-in-law is begging me to try out this new pistol he purchased!”

“Okay, say Hello to Fredrick when you see him!  And have a safe trip!” you chirped, “I love you, dad”

“Love you too, sweetheart, bye!”  As the phone call ended, you began to relax.  Sure, today had been a draining day, but your father’s upbeat energy perked you up.  Perhaps your conversation with Vergil wouldn't be so dour today.  You sensed he had some issue with your father, but you never brought it up, simply because you never wanted to see him as he was when you first met.  You wanted him, if not happy, at least content and untroubled.  You hummed a familiar tune for the rest of the way home, but no matter how hard you thought about it, you couldn’t figure out where you heard it from.

As you pulled into your driveway, the cheerful mood skidded to a halt.  Another, unfamiliar vehicle was parked beside your usual parking space, but nobody was seen.  You tensed up.  You hadn’t expected any guests, and to just get on the property, you had to have a way of getting past the security gate.   

Cautiously, you got out.  It couldn’t possibly be a burglary, what idiot would park in front of your home while looting the place?  But still, you had your fears, not for your property, nor for even yourself.  What about Vergil?  

Your stomach dropped as your front door opened, and out came a slimy slug of a man...Doctor Griffon.   He was practically beaming, whistling a jaunty tune, with a regular sized briefcase in his left hand, and a long narrow briefcase in his right.  To your untrained eye, it looked similar to a gun case, and your blood ran cold.  

The doctor finally noticed you after he locked the door, (how the hell had he gotten a hold of the keys?) and smiled, totally oblivious of what he was doing to your emotions.

“Ah, My dear!  I was not expecting your arrival!  I must say, you’ve done a marvelous job on rehabilitating Angelo.  I was worried it was languishing in captivity, but you’ve managed to bring it’s original colour back, and it’s gained some weight, you must tell me your feeding schedule-”

“Cut the crap, Doctor. How the hell did you get a key?  What the fuck are you doing here? ” you hissed.  

The man deflected your anger as if it was a pesky fly.  “Your father gave me permission and access to your home, to take care of the creature, in case of emergencies, and I deemed it an emergency, since you’ve missed the deadline to deliver your monthly report for the past three days.”

Wait what?

You quickly checked your phone.  Sure enough, the asshole was right, in the hubbub of bridal shows, cake tastings, and now wedding dress try-outs, you had missed the deadline.  It was hard to resist the urge to slap yourself for this stupidity.

“I’m not sure how you managed to wrangle the creature without it’s leash,” he glanced down at the long  briefcase, “But I’m highly impressed you were able to.  I’ll admit I thought you were just faking the measurements…”

“You could have called me, let me know, I could have gotten you the information you so desperately  needed.  Instead of breaking into my place without my damn permission.”

The bastard dangled a ring with a single key on it, in front of you. “Like I said, this was given to me by your father, with permission to-”

You didn’t let him finish as you yanked the key out of his grasp.  “Consider the permission rescinded.” you said curtly.   He attempted to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.  “Talk to my father if you want to contest this, because I’m not letting you set foot on my property again.  Am I making myself clear? Your voice lowered dangerously, your adrenaline pumping through your system, the key clenched so tight in your fist, you could feel the start of it cutting into your palm.  Immediately, your brain went into overdrive, preparing on how to react should Griffon try to take the key back, punch him in the face, or in the gut, or a kick to the groin?

But you needn’t have worried.  The doctor, despite his glares, decided to back off.  No doubt he would attempt to contact your father, but both of you knew who your dad would side with.

“Very well,” he glowered, “but if anything happens to the specimen,” the urge to punch him reached a deafening crescendo, “I will hold you personally responsible.” And with a huff, he shouldered past you, got in his car, and with a slamming of a door, he peeled out, going towards your family’s central warehouse building.

You let out a ragged breath, The next time I see him, I’m going to skewer the bastard, you thought viciously.  The previously relaxed feeling that you had worked so hard to build melted like snow under a blowtorch.  How could you have been so fucking stupid?  You had spent the last decade turning assignments on time for your doctorate, why did you forget now?  All your efforts at gaining Vergil’s trust had just been shattered because of your negligence…

Vergil…

You ran towards the door, clumsily failing to get the key into the hole, and spreading blood from your newly cut hand all over the handle.   It could wait until later, you had to check up on the merman, that was your priority right now.

After a few tries, you got the door unlocked, and you rushed inside, tossing your belongings everywhere in your haste to get to the aquarium.   “Vergil!” you called out, but no response reverberated in your head.  You plastered yourself against the glass, trying desperately to find him.  And after a few moments of panicked searching, you saw him, hidden behind his usual rock where he usually spent time alone.  But now he was unmoving, curled up in a defensive ball, his eyes vacant, staring at nothing at all.  “Vergil!” you yelled, but no response.  What had that asshole done to him?  Did it have something to do with that leash? What if he’s hurt?

Without quite thinking, you clambered onto the platform, and after a moment to gather your breath, you dove in.

The cut on your palm protested at the salt water, but you didn’t care, as you swam to the far rock.  You cautiously approached Vergil, unable to talk to him with your weak human lungs, which already started to burn. Vergil remained staring straight ahead, his eyes transfixed on nothing, unaware of your presence. So, you did the only thing you could, and placed your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.  Come back to me, Vergil.

And then, without warning, both his hands shot out, grabbing your shoulders in a vise tight grip.  In your surprise, you let out the last of your air still in your lungs, the bubbles rising to the surface.  You went to follow, but Vergil wouldn’t let go.  Panic forming, you started struggling, but the merman was as solid as the rock he hid behind, and wouldn’t budge.  And what was worse, the vacant look in his eyes was still there, he had no idea he was drowning you.  For a split second, you thought about trying to hit him, to knock some awareness back into him, but that would make it worse.  So, as you felt your body slowly shutting down, conserving all the oxygen it had for only vital functions, you did the only thing you could think of.

You softly caressed his cheek, hoping the gentle touch might, possibly be the thing he needed to snap him out of his catatonia.  

To your relief, it seemed to work, and his eyes focused on you in confusion.  All you could do was keep your eyes focused on his, as everything besides his face became a dark blur.  Panic filled his face, and you were aware of rushing water, and then the feeling of cool air on your cheeks.  Spluttering and coughing, you gulped up the air, as Vergil gently guided you to the platform and helped you clumsily clamber up onto it.

“Forgive me…” you heard him murmur as you stood on all fours, still attempting to catch your breath. “Had it been a few moments later, I would have....”

“Not your fault, Vergil '' you gasped out, finally able to regulate your breathing, as the pounding of blood in your head slowed down, as the adrenaline stopped flowing.  “This was all me, I should have sent in that report, so ‘he’,” you spat out the word in hatred, so Vergil knew who you were talking about, “wouldn’t have shown up.  But I was so. Fucking. Forgetful. You felt like crying, but you kept it locked inside.  You both didn’t need the additional emotions tonight.

You felt a soft hand placed upon yours, and you looked into his grey eyes, softness replacing the blankness that had been there a few moments ago. “It appears,” he said with a gentle smile, “we are at an impasse to who’s at fault.  Shall we agree that we have both done the other ill?”

“I suppose we could do that,” as you used your hand to brush your soaked hair out of your eyes.  Suddenly Vergil frowned, he gently turned your other hand around, revealing an angry red gash.

“Did I…?” he started to say, but you shushed him.

“No, that was me, when I was confronting the Doctor”  Vergil stiffened at the mention, and you sought to assure him “Vergil, I swear I will never let him near you again, if I have to fucking kill him.”  He looked at you, as if he was searching for sincerity on your face, before nodding in gratitude..  You had never been so serious about something in your life.  Vergil didn’t deserve the treatment you could only guess that he’d been through.  If you could have chucked him into the ocean this very second, you would have.  But despite everything, he still answered ‘no’ to your question of freedom every morning, so you respected his wishes.

“You should get yourself dry,” he said, “you humans tend to get sick when you remain wet for a period of time.”

You got up, wincing at the pain from your palm and you pushed up off of the wood, “I’ll be back soon, and I’ll bring you supper, any requests?”

“Not particularly, anything you wish shall be fine” he answered, his voice unexpectedly soft.  You gave him a reassuring smile, and descended the stairs.

*****

You sat in a warm fluffy pj’s your hair still damp, but otherwise fully dry.  You’d made his favourite for him, ramen, with some slices of leftover pork chop, which he slurped up greedily.  He was still getting the hang of using utensils, but he was doing so much better.  You snacked on a turkey sandwich, not feeling the urge to prepare anything more strenuous than that.  Your hand had stopped bleeding, but still ached, and although it looked bad, with some ointment and some bandages, it would be more annoying than anything.  You pulled up your medical supplies to tend with it, but then heard Vergil’s voice. 

“May I?” and after giving your approval, he gently took your hand, amazed as you spread the cream over the cut.  He frowned, as he watched.  “I thought it would have healed somewhat by now, if not as quickly as us”

“Nah,” you shrugged with your free shoulder as you reached for the wrapping that would keep it protected while you slept. “Although cuts on our hands heal pretty fast compared to other parts of our bodies, we just need to keep it covered so it has a chance to heal.  It’s painful, but it’s not like a wound to the gut or anything.”

You began to wrap your hand, but somehow, Vergil took over, gently winding the cloth around your palm, taking care not to press down on the wound.  The way his fingers softly grazed your knuckles....  You suddenly felt slightly warm at the touch.

“May I ask you a favour?” he asked as you placed the supplies back in the kit.

“Sure”

“Will you sleep here?” he said, tapping the platform.  You paused, and watched to see if he was making a joke, but his face was serious.  “It would put my mind at ease, after all that has transpired today” he requested earnestly.

“Of course” you responded, and relief flooded his face.  “I’ll just have to get some more blankets and such, sleeping on bare wood is rather uncomfortable.”

So, several hours later, you were in a nest of blankets and pillows, lulled by the sound of water, on the cusp of sleep,  when you heard the sound of water sloshing gently, and a cool hand caressing your cheek.  Strangely, it didn’t yank you back into wakefulness, but instead calmed you down even more.

The last thing you heard before sleep truly claimed you was Vergil’s voice, barely a whisper.

“Sleep well, Sifa”

Tagging @harlot-of-oblivion (apologies if I tagged you twice, Tumblr glitched out, and I had to repost.)

[eerythingisshaka]

Moronic Jealousy

(M’Baku x Reader)

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings:  Fluff and Smut, 

A/N:  HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATHENA!!! 🎉🎉🎂🎂🎁🎈💕💋 

I fully intended on posting this on the actual day, had the plot and everything but this week was, whew chile!  So after some selfcare, I finally got a story for you @muse-of-mbaku!  Happy Birthday and I hope New Orleans treats you well.  Continue to be great, break necks, and make moves!  This is inspired by a part of A Different World episode between Jaleesa and Walter.  Soon as I saw it on Prime Video, I been wanting to use it as fanfic fodder. It’s silly, so I hope you like it!

“So then I was like ‘Put the pussy on the chainwax!’”  Michelle cackles out loud as you and Adriene look at each other, telepathically wondering if your friend has gone insane.

“Honey, why would you say that in traffic court?  I enjoy the enthusiasm, but it’s misguided.”  Adriene states, leaning into her glass of moscato.

“You just don’t get it.  (Y/N), you get what I was trying to say, right?”  Michelle looks to you.

After several seconds of gulping air to find the words you respond.  “To me you just added a charge of animal cruelty on top of not having a working headlight, so I’d put you up for 3 years if it was my word, but Adriene is the jury here.”

Girls night is your favorite night of the week.  It’s a tradition that has been hard to keep up with given the busy weekdays you all shared, but in a way that made the final connect all the more sweeter.  And what comes with that is your favorite pastime: Drunk Courtroom.

“Man, you ALWAYS take Adri’s side in this.”  Michelle pouts, blowing a 3B curl out of her face.

“That’s what the judge does!  My jury tells me what to do- I think I need to cut you off of the Barefoot, cuz…”  You slide the bottle closer to you on the coffee table.

“No, that ain’t my problem!  You really bossy since your engagement to Timbuktu.”  Michelle cheeses into her glass.

Your jaw drops, scoffing.  “Oh my God, how many times I gotta tell you to stop calling him that!  Especially now that he is my future husband, chill with alldat.”

Michelle giggles, pushing you a little.  “Can I play a little??  You landed a gold mine, or should I say vibranium mine with him as your catch.  See what happens when you put the pussy on the chainwax?”

“Once again.  I. Don’t. Understand. That. Phrase.”  You clap between each word in frustration.  “Besides. He doesn’t work with the vibranium, he handles Jabari wood, which is just as sacred and important.”

“It sure the hell is.”  Adriene says out the side of her mouth.  “I bet his wood is handled very properly, hence the ring….”

“Stop.”

Michelle chimes in with a seductive tone.  “Does he wax his own wood, or do you do it for him?”

“Guys.”

“Is that what he names it?  Jabari?  ‘Jabari needs some attention…’ or whatever?”  Adriene inquires with an M’Baku impression that sounded more like Vincent Price.

“Fuck off y’all, damn!”  You get up in embarrassment to get some ice cream from the fridge as Adriene and Michelle balk in laughter.  Don’t nobody know how to cut you down from your high horse like your friends.

“Ok, ok.  My bad, we just playing with you!”  Michelle calls out.

Adriene cosigns.  “Can you blame us?  Mr. Perfect out here wining and dining you, leading a whole damn tribe and slaps a rock like that on your finger?  Don’t pay attention to us.”

Sitting back on the couch you lick your spoon instead of your wounds; the vanilla, brownie, caramel combo soothing you as you hold out your left hand.  

Two weeks ago, M’Baku took you on a gondola ride that set the mood for romance just right.  You weren’t expecting anything to come from it but some snuggles with your love but when the boat looped back to dock, rose petals covered the path a nearby fountain, fanciful luminarias shaped in a heart on the ground marked the spot where he led you.  One of his cousins was there to shoot the moment as M’Baku got down on one knee and spoke his sweet words to you.  You couldn’t pay attention to their context because you were sobbing so much but knowing him they were profound and loving.  When you said yes he couldn’t stop hooting in the dead of night, hugging you tightly, kisses unabating.  He hasn’t stopped holding your hand since because ‘the ring is so heavy.’  

“Yeah, well I still can’t stand y’all heffas.”  You grumble, rocking into them side to side.

“I wanna play a new game.  Adri, pick something, child.”  Michelle directs, pouring her glass to the brim again.

“I’m three years older than you, but go off I guess.”  Adriene mutters under her breath, pulling her braids back in thought.  “How about...Telephone!”

You scoff at her suggestion.  “You need at least 10 people for that game to be effective.  Pick something else.”

“What’re you talking about?  All you need is some phone numbers and gumption to cold call people.”  Adriene says with lip smack, pulling out her phone.

Michelle groans.  “Girl, you talkin bout crank calling people, not telephone.  Telephone is the whisper challenge for people with a lot of friends basically.”  

“Ohhh, you right!  Ok, so crank calls.  Let’s make em!”  Adriene picks up a handful of hot cheetos, munching excitedly.  “And Michelle should go first since she so smart or whatever!”

Michelle screws her face up.  “No!  If I apparently lost Courtroom, I’m sitting out first round.  (Y/N), start things off.”

“I don’t feel like it.”  You whine, not entirely joking.  The moscato and late hour of the night made for a deadly combo.

“Pleeeease.  One round!  Ooh, to make it interesting, how about calling Tim?”  Michelle asks sneakily.

“His name is M’Baku!”  You exclaim.

“That’s neither here nor there.  I wanna see this!  Wake his ass up!”  Adriene says, bouncing in her seat.

You lay the ice cream down, picking up your phone regretfully.  “What do I even say?”

That’s all Michelle had to here.  “Ok, so check it.  You call him and change your voice a little to make it seem like you’re someone else and just catch his reaction.”

“Pretend he got child support payments due!”  Adriene offers.

“You always gotta be extra, Adriene!  But he’ll know it’s me.  This ain’t the 90s no more and he has my number after all.”  

Michelle brushes your doubt away.  “Just *67 him!  It still works today, trust me…”  her voice trails off as she sips from her glass shaking her head in an apparent flashback.

“O....k.  I’ll try it, but soon as he knows its me, I’m cutting it.  I don’t wanna stress my baby.”  You say, lowkey getting excited by the approaching tease.  Adriene cuts the music they were playing as you dial in silence.  

The phone rings on speaker phones ominously as you wait for M’Baku to pick up, fully expecting him to say your name and catching you instantly.

“Hello?”  He says sleepily.

You pause, words leaving your brain as Adriene and Michelle mime things to say.

“Uh, bueno, I’m so sorry for the late call.”  You say, lowkey butchering a Spanish accent as you hang your head in shame, certain you are caught already.

You hear rustling on M’Baku’s end as he moves.  “Well, may I ask who is this?”

You hated this already but push your way through the conversation.  “This is...Daniella?  Um, lo siento.  Pero, a friend of mine gave me your number to call so I could introduce myself.”

“What friend?”   He asks curtly.

You look to your girls for help on this one as they mouth names.

“Uhhh, Terrance?  Michelle’s brother.”  You say hesitantly.  They had only met a couple times at group events, so they were hardly friends but it is the best you have to make a connection.

“Ohhh, Terrance, yes, we are wonderful friends.  Known him for years.”  M’Baku says perking up.  You make a face at the phone as he lies so effortlessly.  “So can I help you with something, Ms.  Daniella?”

“Well, you may not know me but I have seen you at the gym a few times,  y I was muy impressed by su cuerpo y musculos….sorry!  I meant your body and muscles, I’m always slipping that way.”  You say playfully to keep up your Spanish identity.

“No, it is alright.  I speak Spanish fluently so si quieres, podemos hacerlo-”

“No!  No, but thank you!”  You clutch your chest as your heart pounds nervously.  No way in hell your high school Spanish could keep up with his.  “But, maybe we could meet in person and study our native tongues together.”  You throw that in for good measure.  Michelle almost howls out at your brazenness.  

M’Baku chortles out loud, and you know you are caught.  Shaking your head as he laughs at you, you almost start to reveal the prank and ask him to knock it off.

“I have never been so enchanted by a woman I have yet to meet.  You have piqued my interest, Daniella, I cannot lie.”

“Really?  Oh, you are making me nervous now.  I thought for sure you would have someone already keeping your attention.  You are just so handsome.”  You waited on edge for his response.  This is when you will surprise him that the woman he is about to talk about in his life is the one pranking him.

“Nooo, I try to keep my personal life as stress free as possible.  And I am very relaxed right now, so I would love to meet you sometime.”  

You can hear the smile in his voice as his baritone shines through, and you are disgusted.  That voice that made you quiver is intentionally being used for another woman, imaginary or not.  You couldn’t look at your friends for fear of breaking down.

“Wonderful!  How about tomorrow night, 8pm?  Since you are free…”  You try your best to keep up the art of seduction but it is waning fast.

“Perfect.  We can meet at this nice restaurant by the Lake Kenoba.  It’s beautiful at that time of evening.”

“Perfect!  See you then.”  

Hanging up the phone, you look to Michelle and Adriene who are staring back at you, mouths agape.  

“That didn’t go as planned.”  You say, tossing your phone aside on the couch cushions.  

“Why the hell did you pretend to be a date for him?  I can’t believe he’s playing us...I mean you!!” Adriene exclaims.

Michelle pats your back.  “Now now, don’t get so up in arms.  I bet you five he is pranking you back.  No way in hell he actually fell for that.  Your Russian accent was so far left field, I couldn’t-”

“It was Spanish!”  You say defensively.  Michelle just makes a face, looking to Adriene for help.

“Ok, well, honestly I agree with Michelle on this.  He is a smart man, and loves you to death up until now.  No way this is a sign of anything else.  Right?”

You sit back on the couch looking to the ceiling to search your thoughts for anything that may have lead to a sign of this coming.  “Guys, I don’t meant to kick y’all out but I need to be alone.”

They both try to convince you to not think too much into the whole conversation, but that was impossible.  Soon as they left, you were pacing the floor, channeling Angela Bassett circa Waiting to Exhale.  If the band on your ring wasn’t vibranium, you would burn it with his clothes.  Instead, you come to a moment of clarity.  Maybe they are right and he isn’t a low down, dirty dick ass cheater.  Maybe.

You pick your phone up and text him a ‘Hey babe!’ with a kissy face.  His response is quick, giving you an equally affectionate hello text.  

You text him asking for some time to see him tomorrow night at 8pm.  Same time as Maria, or Lisbeth, or whatever name you gave yourself.  You see the bubbles pop up and disappear several times on screen, driving you insane.  Now he takes his time to reply?!

He says he cannot make it, meeting with family that day.  You offer to come with, but he says it is private.  Too private for your future WIFE to be apart of??

You end the conversation, not bothering to respond.  Your phone dings again but you don’t bother checking it out.  As you make your way to bed, you look up on Amazon for gasoline cans and bleach with one day shipping guarantees.

The next day, you are in a hazy cloud of dread.  Your concentration at work is gone, you barely could eat lunch, and Michelle and Adriene keep blowing up your phone asking for updates, which there were none.  Your fears had already been confirmed so what more was there to talk about?  

That’s when your brain hatches up a plan.  You were gonna catch him in the act, no doubt about it.  When you got off work, you went to your place to gather an overnight bag and head over to his.  He won’t even feel like going out when you were through ‘being his peace’.

Pulling up, you knock on his door at 6:30pm.  M’Baku opens the door, shirtless in his joggers.  

“(Y/N), what are you-”

“I figured after you are through with your family, we could hang out!”  You say hurriedly, walking briskly past him as he stares at you in confusion while you toss your bag aside.

M’Baku walks over to you, arms crossed.  His pics substantiated by his stance and bold tattoos across them.  “Did you text me before getting here?”

You swiftly turn to him, taking off your jacket and shoes.  “No, not at all.  Should I have?  Am I interrupting something?”

M’Baku furrows his brow looking from your bag to you.  “Like I said, I made plans with family at 8, so I am in the process of getting ready.”

You blink a couple times, holding your chest.  “Oh, oh!  Don’t let me stop you, Timbuktu!  You do all you need and keep it moving, I’ll be upstairs chilling.”  You pick up your bag and head up.

“Tim- Have you seen Michelle today?  Why are you calling me that?  And what is in the bag love?”  M’Baku calls after you.

You don’t answer as you head to his bedroom and get undressed, grabbing a shirt of his out of the dresser to put on as a night gown.

“You got a lotta questions for me, but I ain’t asked you a damn thing.  SO don’t worry about me, just go on your little date...with your family.  I’ll do your laundry while you’re gone, how’s that?”  You give him a tight smile as you crawl up in bed, turning on the TV on almost full blast.  

M’Baku’s belly jiggles as he chuckles to himself with his hands on his hips before going to check your bag.

“Get outta my stuff!”  You exclaim, getting up to pull his hand away from inside.  

This is an obvious trap as M’Baku swiftly wraps you up in his arms, staring you down with a cold, calculative expression.  “Where’s the gas can you ordered?  Bleach?”

You shrank in his grasp as you wiggled to make him put you down.  Damn that shared Amazon account.

You stand up to him defiantly.  “Where’s Daniella, hm?  She meeting you at that restaurant, right?”  

M’Baku’s expressions cracked into a smirk.  You wanted to rip those full lips off of his face.  “It’s about time you brought it up.”

You exhale sharply.  “Why?  Because I should’ve always known?  I should’ve suspected it a long time ago that you been two timing me?”  You are shrill as you crawl into his bed in the fetal position.  

M’Baku groans as he sit on the edge of the bed in front of you.  “Come on, my adored one.  Is that what you think of me?”

You shake your head, long faced.  “Of course not, until she called you.”

“But it was you!  You called me!”

“You didn’t know that!”

M’Baku laughs out loud, slapping his knee.  You push on his broad back with your feet to try and get him off the bed to no avail.  “Aye, you think I believed that wasn’t you but a random woman who attends my gym, that I haven’t even noticed has any female participants at the early hour I go.  And is also friends with a sibling of your friend who I have only seen less than a handful of times?”

“Then why did you lie and say you knew him for years?”

“I was trying to break you out of character!   But you fell into it, so I kept going along to pull the wool over your eyes instead.  Plus, your Japanese accent was borderline offensive.”  M’Baku says softly, bringing his hand to your cheek, brushing it with his thumb.

“IT WAS SPANISH!  Why would I SPEAK Spanish while sounding Japanese.”

M’Baku’s body shakes a little as his face strains to hold back his childish laughter.

“You are diabolical.”  You mutter, attempting to nip at his fingertips.

M’Baku gave you a gap toothed smile big enough to make the earth quake.  “Don’t blame me, your friends have gotten you into trouble with me plenty of times before but we make up, always.”

You huff as you turn to the TV to remain bothered.  “I’m not ready to make up.”

M’Baku lays his head back on your belly, talking to the ceiling.  “What if I told you I made reservations at the aforementioned restaurant and I had planned to  come by and pick you up to expose your plan. Hm?”

Your heart falls at this revelation.  You would’ve loved to have seen that happen, and that restaurant had bread and butter you would kill to consume right now, and pack extras in your purse.  But jumping to conclusions ruined that as it is your Olympic sport, gold medal winner.  

“M’Baku, I’ll give it to you that I shouldn’t have thought that you would two time me, especially without talking to you first.  But I still don’t like that you tricked me.  You drug it out on me too long.”

M’Baku rolls over, his head traveling up your arm to your neck, kissing behind your ear and humming.  The vibrations of his voice tickled you along with his breath but you ignore the dopamine flowing through you, lying perfectly still and unphased.

M’Baku picks his head up, tutting at you as he gets off the bed to head for the restroom.  Next sound you hear is the shower coming on.   You hope he doesn’t think you’re joking about not wanting to go out now because you were firmly in that frame of mind.

His 1000 count sheets caressed your skin nicely as you snuggled under his down comforter.  That coupled with the pitter patter of the shower left you fighting your eyelids to watch the TV screen and losing.

You were awakened by the shift of weight on the bed, M’Baku wrapping his arm around your midsection to pull up behind you, breathing in the coconut and shea scent of your hair before resting his hand fully encompassing one of your breasts.

Instinctively, you hold his arm tightly.  “I’m still mad at you.”

“Eh, I know.”  His lips graze your ear lobe, making you flinch.

“And I don’t wanna go to dinner with you.”

“The reservation time passed.  You slept through it.”  

“Did you go eat without me?”  You ask.

M’Baku’s hand moves to travel up your thigh.  “I’m not going anywhere when you’re laying in my bed.”

You start to feel warm all over, a familiar sensation begs you to give in.  “Whatever man.”

M’Baku’s groan rumbles through his body as he reaches under your nightgown/his shirt, grazing your fupa, playing in your tuft of hair between your legs.  “I don’t want to bed you while you’re angry…”

Your hand clutches his forearm desperately as your legs part slightly involuntarily.  “You think I’m that easy?”

M’Baku’s plush lips falls on your neck softly.  “No.  That’s why you are perfect for me.  I never worked so hard in my life to get what I want.”

His wide hand pushes your legs apart farther as they plunge between your thighs, palming your pussy.  His fingers finding your wetness with ease.

You gasp, hips bucking for friction against his hand.  “I think I need  a little more convincing…”

“At your service.”  M’Baku crawls under the covers.  You giggle as you lie on your back watching his frame under the blanket make mountains to get to your lower portion.  Feeling yourself spread underneath the covers without him in sight is exhilarating for you.  You feel his breath on you as he exhales with built up lust.  When his tongue spreads across your lips your back concaves in aching relief.  M’Baku’s tongue goes into a rhythm between your inner labia, flicking your clit every so often.  The pulsations of his pace threaten your sanity as you try to sit up, crawling backwards slightly, but M’Baku’s arms wrap around your hips to keep you in place.  

He seems to punish you for you resistance, focusing now solely on your clit, sending you into a tizzy.  Sounds like a Campbell’s chicken noodle soup commercial under the covers with all the slurping and lip smacking he shamelessly devotes to taste every drop of you.  You’re blubbering his name, peppering encouragements with begs for mercy as you feel your orgasm wash over your body.  All of the stimulation happening underneath the blanket elevated your pleasure sensors as you couldn’t see the source.  You had to see him or you would for sure lose your mind.  Pulling the blanket back, you see his cheeks hollowing out, maintaining pressure on your clit, eyes deviously trained on yours as he penetrated you with a couple of his fingers.  

This is much worse for you now, but at least you can take it out on him instead of the blanket.

“God, I’m cumming on your face right fucking now, Baku.”   You squeal, fingers gripping his hair as your hip flexors strain to hold back from crushing his skull .

He turns you lose of his mouth finally, crawling up to you to tongue your down, tasting yourself along with him.

“It seems our native tongues were pretty well together.”  M’Baku growls, pulling you down by your legs and he pulls his joggers off, dick unfurling full and ready.  “Have I convinced you yet?”

You claw above your head for something, anything to hold onto.  “You’re getting there.  It’s just, my gut is telling me something else.”

“I can fix that…” M’Baku licks his lips, reaching to take your shirt off over your head, squeezing you titties like fresh picked fruit.  You both groan from the touch, his eyes entranced by your nipples as they draw him in, working his neck to lap his tongue around your areola until its peak is reached.   

You lick your lips, biting them as reach down between the two of you for his dick, stroking it slowly.  You feel him expand in your hand as his moans concentrate on your nipple as he continues to suck, vibrating against your sensitivity.

He comes off of your breast with a pop, smiling devilishly.  “What are you doing?  I’m supposed to be pleasing you tonight, my love.”

“This pleases me, Baku.  This does.”  You whisper as you continue to ready him. 

M’Baku smiles into your mouth, kissing you as you wrap your arms around his neck, laying back as you wrap your legs around him, walls contracting excitedly awaiting his entry.

M’Baku maintains eye contact as you feel his tip pressing into you before the sensation of stretching you makes you break; closing your eyes and mouth falling wide as his girth slowly navigates your canal.

M’Baku mirrors you as your tightness affects him as well, wrapping his hand around your neck lightly before tonguing your tonsils out hungrily.  His hips activate against yours moving in shallow motions to prepare you before taking his strokes longer and longer until his entire length massages your insides beautifully.  

“Fuck, you feel good.”  M’Baku groans as he punches the headboard once for good measure, laying his body flush with your, kissing your neck and clavicle as his strokes picked up pace.  

You gasp as if you’re drowning, clutching onto his arm, kissing his tattoo band gratefully.  “Ohh, my gut is telling me something much different now.”

“What’s it telling you?”  M’Baku grunts in your ear.

“It’s telling me to marry the man attached to this dick.”  You say before your voice hitches from the wave of pleasure flooding over you, seizing your body up.  The sweet cacophony of his skin slapping against yours signals M’Baku’s enjoyment of you in this moment, trapped between your legs as stare into each other’s eyes threateningly.  He pulls out of you, rolling you over to give your ass a slap.

“You need to be on your knees then.”  M’Baku commands.  

You try your best to do as you are told, aftershocks between your legs threaten their stability as you get into position, rubbing yourself lightly as you lie in wait.  Your head is against the mattress as you watch him stroke himself as he plants his hand on your lower back, kissing your cheeks audibly, smacking them both after.

“I don’t think I have convinced you properly of my devotion, love.”  M’Baku says, rubbing the tip of his dick between your swollen labia.

You inhale sharply.  “I’m past that, don’t worry about that baby.  Just please-”

“Don’t interrupt me.  You talk a lot but not when it counts.  I want to hear you when I am inside you.”

You push yourself towards him, trying to geolocate the dick.  “Ok, I will, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”  M’Baku says, spreading your knees father apart before sliding back into you, causing you to illicit a guttural moan.  

“You fill me up so good, Baku.”  You inhale sharply as he works himself inside you roughly.  He bounces his hips against your cheeks with slow deliberate strokes.  Bam, bam, bam!  The force pulls you back on his dick with each thrust, eventually leading you to bounce against him on your own.

“Ah, that’s better.  Come to me like you came over here to tell me off.”  M’Baku says, rubbing your ass.

Biting your lip, you pick up your bounce, arching.  “I don’t play when it comes to this dick, Baku.  Don’t make me wreck you.”

M’Baku smacks one cheek enthusiastically, the sting somehow sweetens your pleasure.  “Show me.”

You give it your all, smacking your ass against his hips, tightening around him as you wind around his length expertly.  Although you had him right where you wanted him, moaning and cursing you, you get high off of your own supply.  The pressure building within you begins to release and you lose your form, holding your breath as you came.

M’Baku would not have that.  He leans over you, holding your head up by your hair.  “I want to hear you…”

He takes over, pounding into you while reaches between you to stimulate your bud.  You squeak, gripping the sheets as he commands you to breathe.  You swear this is impossible as he won’t stop digging you out and stressing your scalp with his grasp.  Then you aren’t sure if this orgasm was really long or another one came quickly but as you opened your throat, you let out an animalistic screech that scared the shit outta you but rocked M’Baku’s world.  He practically pounds you through the mattress to the floor as you both collapse, humping you into submission as he gets his last few strokes in you.  He warms your belly from inside with his release.

M’Baku gets off of you so you can breathe, kissing down your back and examining the mess you all made inside of you.  You jerk feeling him touch you, wiping the remnants down before slowly rolling off to the side of you.  He takes your hand kissing your ring again before looking at you lovingly.

You lay there, twitching every few seconds as you come down.

“Are you cold?”  M’Baku asks, getting up slowly to grab the previously discard blanket.

“No, of course not.  I’m just recuperating.”  You say between the natural jerks of your muscles, your heart still pounding between your legs.

“Any chance of Daniella coming back?  Her accent wasn’t so bad now that I think about it.”  He says, kissing your hand again.

You pick it up, laying it across his face for what was supposed to be a slap.  “Shut up, I’m still frickin embarrassed by that.  You owe me dinner though.”

M’Baku smiles, rolling on his side towards you.  “I do.  I shouldn’t be the only one eating tonight.  Plus, I can’t risk you incinerating my things.”

You lay there in silence, closing your eyes.

“Were you...really going to do that?”

You start to snore.

“(Y/N), honestly.”

[squiddybeifong]

Trek to Themyscira, Ch. 2

On ao3 here!

--

Victor let out a snort as she plopped down in the seat across from him, his eyes scanning the pages that he had laid out on the table. The note she had sent him as soon as her meeting with Mr. Wayne finished was lost under a sea of books he had already searched the library for, all containing even the smallest hint about the lost Themyscira.

But there was a slight furrow to his brows and Raven sighed; Kent's notes obviously weren't as up to date as she'd thought. She rested a cheek on her palm and downed another gulp of her tea, hoping that the librarian wouldn’t notice she had snuck the small jug inside. She shook her head as she gave the notes another once-over, her voice low as she clicked her tongue, "I know."

Dark brown eyes flicked up to her face, amused. Victor chuckled, sitting up a bit straighter as he twirled the pencil in his fingers, "Do you even know what you're commiserating along to?"

The zoologist grinned at him, "Not quite. But I can guess well enough."

She offered her cup and he took a sip, biting back a groan as the clock struck. Shaking his head, the engineer put his attention back to the notes, already planning his estimates for their course of action. Victor glanced at the young woman he could practically call his sister, his face softening at the trepidation that hid in the shadows of her face. To lighten the mood, he dipped the cup her way, "We're a quarter hour from entering your own personal Hell, Rae. Any final words?"

Gray eyes rolled but she couldn’t contain her growing smile. Raven tapped her nail to the metal in a faux toast as she quietly spoke their motto into the air, "What if not for the advancement of science!"

He laughed and repeated her, “What if not for the advancement of science!" Victor's eyes were bright and excited despite the unplanned additions to their expedition. Something in his usual pragmatic optimism made Raven smile just a tiny bit wider; as long as he was by her side, perhaps a quarter year with Zatara wouldn’t be too bad. She lazed back in her chair and patted down her skirt, wondering just how she and Zatanna would begin to put aside their feud. She herself had no real issue with Mr. Constantine and knew that while Zatanna didn't care for his age the anthropologist at least respected the strides Victor had made through his inventions.

But nearly three years of animosity wouldn’t be undone in an afternoon. Raven tilted her head back, listening to the scratch of Victor’s pencil against his papers. She closed her eyes and sought to steady her breathing, mentally preparing for the arguments and undercuts that were bound to occur.

After an incredibly long moment, punctuated only with Victor’s frustrated hums and quiet ‘Aha’ what must have been a few minutes later, Raven opened her eyes. She turned to glance at the clock that adorned Gotham Library’s front wall. Just underneath, the librarian was quietly stamping out an elderly lady’s books when the door opened, his white brows jumping an inch as he glanced at the two visitors.

The old man paid Mr. Constantine no mind and nodded once at Zatanna, the corners of his mouth quirking down. He had been witness to more than a few confrontations between the two scholars and was hasty to warn the anthropologist of Raven’s presence. It was the weekend, after all. Most of the library’s patrons probably wouldn’t appreciate being audience to an argument, whispered or not.

Raven reached out to touch Victor’s paper as she watched the three; she felt more than saw him look up at the interruption. A soft noise escaped the man and his large hand covered hers. The inventor squeezed her fingers once, reminding, “For science, Rae.”

She nodded and raised a palm to wave at Zatanna, taking a bit of pleasure in the way the usually unflappable librarian’s face went slack. The old man’s lips moved in what must have been a stutter and Constantine touched his shoulder, his reassuring smile somehow both strained and not.

Zatanna left the two men at the front desk, striding up to the paper-covered table. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t glare as she simply addressed the young zoologist, “Roth.” Her sapphire eyes flicked to Victor and she held out her hand, more respect creeping into her voice, “Mr. Stone.”

He shook her hand with a smile, “Please, call me Victor.” A brown hand patted the pages in front of him, “If we are to spend all this time together, we may as well get comfortable.”

His words were pointed and Raven ran a tongue over her teeth, “He’s right.” Gray eyes flicked to the Englishman as he strolled up. She nodded at him and he tilted his head her way. Tucking aside some of her hair (while internally cursing the pins that refused to hold her hair up), Raven suggested, “It may be best if Mr. Constantine--”

“Just Constantine,” The man piped up. “Or John if you’d like.”

“Constantine, then.” Raven gave him a tiny smile, her lips going back to a line as she focused on her rival again, “It’d do us both good if either Constantine or Victor are mediators for any arguments we may have.”

Zatanna hummed at the idea, “That’s fine for now. But once we reach Themyscira…”

Raven shrugged under the pointed look aimed her way, “Then we figure it out as we go.”

The older scholar narrowed her eyes as she took a seat next to Victor. Constantine sat across from her and tapped his wrist when Zatanna crossed her arms. Glad that her braid was tucked up today, the anthropologist observed, “You’re calmer than I assumed you would be, Roth. Come to grips with everything this quickly?”

Both brows jumped above graphite eyes, making the young woman's face so much more mocking than usual. Raven smirked as she glanced to the side, taking in Constantine for a moment. “I’m a zoologist, Zatara.” She picked up one of Victor's notes, humming as she read her name jotted amongst the potential uses that some of the tools were used for. Certainly they'd be able to research quite a few species when they got there, but for now…

Raven met Zatanna's gaze again, “I’d expect that Constantine’s own projects have exposed you to the spontaneity of field work, but your research rarely leaves the city, correct?”

Under the table, Victor nudged her boot with his own. He didn’t look up from his notes, “Behave, Rae.”

Constantine reached for one of the pages, a grin sliding onto his face at the sight of the flower petals. Zatanna glanced at the engineer’s notes, her words laced with thinly laced disdain, “You do know how to do proper note-taking according to Gotham University’s guidelines, correct? Victor obviously can but if we do find as much as Mr. Wayne supposes we need to have synchronized summaries.”

She looked the young woman over, “Preferably with washed hands and no traces of fur on the reports, mind you.” Raven bristled at the reference to her first foray into her field, her words cut off before she could retort.

“We’re getting along, Zee,” John sing-songed, shaking his head good-naturedly as the academics sized each other up. He reached into his coat’s front pocket, grinning as he brought out a rectangular page, “And I’ve got good news.”

Victor’s brows jumped, “Is that a supplies list?”

The Englishman winked at him, “Straight from Mr. Wayne himself. Apparently, he’s given us two 75-foot carracks.” John’s brows jumped with the others as he re-read the order. Cerulean eyes sped over the page, muttering, “Seems the old chap’s pretty certain of us bringing back something.”

"You don't get to his wealth without gumption," Victor shrugged.

"True." Clearing his throat, John read aloud, “‘Of the 71 men allotted, there are to be 51 sailors and 20 guards, with 35 men assigned to the first and the captain commanding 36 on the second ship carrying the four scholars. The trip will take approximately four weeks and three days’ worth of travel each way, with three weeks of exploration and itemization under the guards’ protection. A third year’s worth of food supplied and a battle’s worth of ammunition for each ship.’”

John’s nose scrunched up, “Certainly not a lot of time.”

“We can handle it,” Victor mused. Hickory eyes flicked around the table, lighting up as they landed on the youngest, “And unless we hit a snag, this trip should be the picture of the three Es.”

Zatanna raised a brow, “The three Es?”

Raven’s shoulders shook as she took a sip of her cold tea. She tapped the paper that Constantine held, “The best expeditions, whether for land or for academia, are educational, easy, and extraordinary. Although we usually can only get two of the three.”

John let out a laugh, smothering himself as the librarian glared their way, “No disagreements with that.”

The anthropologist crossed her arms, “Does the extraordinary usually hold you up? Certainly just studying animals isn’t too hard, I’d imagine. Otherwise Mr. Wayne would’ve asked another then--”

Raven cut her off, partly just for fun and partly for her own sanity, “Then what, if not for the advancement of science, Zatara?”

The men gave each other a look, deciding to let the not-quite fight play out as Zatanna drawled out, “How poetic. That something you say before going out into the field?”

“Of course not,” A pale finger pointed Victor’s way. The zoologist grinned, “That’s what I told him the first time he almost lost a limb running from a bear. It was our…” Gray eyes squinted in thought, “First year together on the field? Either way we were beginners to the whole ‘work outside of an office’ type of work.”

Raven leaned forward and folded her elbows on the table, fighting back a smirk at the way Zatanna’s nose scrunched at the unladylike act. Her hand waved in the space above the table, “Insufferable or not, I’ll try to keep you free from any harm a novice might fall into.”

She held up a hand and used the other to make a cross over her heart, “Scholar’s honor.”

Zatanna glared.

--

Constantine groaned as the ship swayed again, the back and forth making his head throb. How much of that was the seasickness and how much was a consequence of his half-empty flask, he didn’t know. All he could do was clutch his head, grumbling out a “Bloody Hell.”

Victor let out a grunt of agreement, his cheeks ashen as he fought off a bout of nausea. God above, he was a fan high speeds but there was a difference. Whipping down the muddy cobblestones with only the horses’ reins and the hope that the carriage’s wheels wouldn’t give out was fun, having no control as the seas swung the only thing keeping them all from a watery death was something else entirely. Honestly, as much as he loved Raven Victor preferred Zatanna’s method of science. Safe and sound in a furnished room, lit by candlelight and serenaded by the city’s sounds all around him until he was ready to see his work in action.

A part of him wondered where Raven was, but she’d always been good on the seas so he disregarded the thought. Especially as another heave threatened to escape him. The captain jogged past, laughing as he clapped the two land-dwellers on their shoulders, “The first week’s the worst, lads!”

John’s eyes widened and he leaned over the rail, dumping his breakfast into the blue waters. Victor winced, “Will it ever get better?”

The captain’s laughter boomed in the air and he put his hands on his hips, unfazed by the carrack’s tilt, “Just gotta grow your sea legs, men. The trip back’ll go swimmingly, promise.”

--

Zatanna raised a brow as she opened her door, blinking as Raven deadpanned, “We need to talk. Urgently.”

“Well no need to sugarcoat things,” The older woman held open the door as she let Raven in, her jaw setting at the papers that the zoologist clutched to her chest. Taking a breath, she closed the door and watched as Raven laid out three pages on her desk.

From her spot she could see the one page was filled with the now extremely familiar lines of Kent’s notes, one was crammed full of Raven’s own handwriting and the last must have been a copy of one of the library’s books. Zaranna crossed her arms over her chest, expectant when all the scientist did was look at her.

Raven rolled her eyes before a stare-off could begin. She impatiently waved her temporary ally over, “Look at these, Zatara.”

The older of the two bit back a hum at the rare fire of emotion that shone from Raven’s eyes. But still, she stayed put. In fact, just to rub in the fact that neither was superior to the other on this expedition (let alone Raven’s status above hers), Zatanna leaned until her back rested against the door, “And why are you asking me?”

A vein over the younger’s eye twitched, “You’re the anthropologist. I need your… opinion.” She patted the papers once, ��About the possibility of there still being Themyscirans alive. Today.”

Zatanna wanted to think it a joke, but she stepped forward at the look on Raven’s face. Her focus immediately went to the inkblots that emphasized certain sentences. Raven leaned forward to tap a marked section, getting to business without another moment's waste, “They apparently called themselves Amazons, although they disappeared before news of the New World really gained traction.”

That got her a blue side-eye and another bout of condescension, “Themyscira only used their sailing for martial reasons, Roth. Their spears aren’t…” She paused, her lips tightening into a thin line as she considered if her idea had any merit.

Ultimately, Zatanna didn’t think that it did, “Name aside, what we know of their gods and that their culture definitely contained eurocentric ideals. Same as all the surrounding countries and islands alike.”

She ran her fingers over the sketches again, reading one of the notes that Raven had written near an inked boat, “‘They kept to themselves but weren’t hesitant to send distresses if truly needed.’ Surely they must have just been surprised by the hurricane.”

As if on cue the boat creaked with an especially large tilt and Raven slowly closed her eyes as a thump preceded Victor’s call of “Damn it all to Hell!” Her smile faltered at the feel of Zatanna’s eyes on her and spoke, “He has a bad habit of trying to sleep off his seasickness and not using the bed’s straps to hold himself down.”

Zatanna hummed at the look on her face and the tone to her words, “You think the Amazons were the same? That they were able to escape?”

“At least some of them. If any had lived past the storm then they would have been spotted around the island--” She held up a hand before the older woman could interrupt, “--the vegetation and terrain is far too wild to see anything of their everyday life while on any boat. But there wouldn’t be Themysciran technology washing up on Greece’s shores if they were confined to there.”

“You think they’re isolating themselves on purpose?”

Raven bit her lower lip, “Or on accident. I’m not sure how this could have come about, actually.”

“The most recent tool washed up just a few months ago, so if there is a population it must be floundering,” Zatanna mused. Her fingers drummed on the desk, “Sixteen decades is a long time to be cut off from a world that’s so close.” She glanced at the shorter woman, “You think their husbandry has anything to do with this?”

“Not their husbandry,” Raven stressed. She ran a hand through her hair, “There aren’t many maps of the surrounding islands, but I believe they’re crucial to this mystery. Might even have some ruins there too.”

Zatanna raised a brow, “There are… other islands?”

“Themyscira is the start of an archipelago,” Raven explained, pulling a crinkled pocket-map out of her pockets. She unfolded the paper that had obviously been well-worn prior to the expedition and pointed at the shaky lines, “They’ve never been explored. The Amazons made sure of it when they were alive and the storms have only just started to really erode the surrounding rocky reefs, but some zoologists hypothesized that they were concealing another Madagascar.”

The silence that greeted her was a question enough. She gazed up at Zatanna, a small part of her proud to be teaching Zatara something she had no idea about, “Madagascar’s ecosystem doesn’t have the large predators that other areas of Africa bear.” Her voice lightened at the familiar topic, “No large cats or dogs, no dangerously fatal territorials like hippos or rhinos, and early humans hardly made a presence. It’s the only place on the planet where lemurs and other small monkeys live and thrive natively.”

Zatanna added on, “So if the Amazons ensured that only they knew how to navigate there, they could’ve stayed without any worries.” She nodded to herself then raised a brow at the uncertain look on the zoologist’s face, a scoff erupting out of her as she easily guessed the direction her thoughts were going, “I know you’re not acting like a child, but you might as well think like an adult if we’re even discussing this.”

Raven’s lips pursed at the insult then she hummed out, “It’s only childish to assume that the most bizarre answers can never be true.” Pale hands went back to her pockets as she looked for her world map, air escaping her as she unfurled it. Paying no mind to how Zatanna curiously peered at the animal sketches that spotted the page, Raven ran her fingertips over Africa’s border, “Now, disregarding humans the larger primates were spread between middle- to north-Africa and Asia,” Raven muttered.

Her nail tapped Madagascar on the map, “But the small ones thrived closer to the equator.”

Zatanna shrugged out her guess, “So any undisclosed primates that Themyscira may have known about would be big, like gorillas?”

Raven pushed her glasses up, “Exactly! I’d have to ask Victor if he brought any of our past notes on primatology, but physical tools aren’t necessary if humans are constantly in close proximity.”

Her hands clasped behind her back she hesitated, reluctant as she turned to meet Zatanna’s stare, “Which leads me to my… idea. More of a proposition, really.”

“Oh?”

The zoologist bit the inside of her cheek, “I don’t know if I could get Victor to agree, but we could temporarily split off from the group.”

“You and Victor?”

“You and myself.”

Zatanna shifted and she pressed on, “Three weeks is nowhere near enough time to thoroughly record all we find on Themyscira and get even the tiniest sniff of the rest of the archipelago. Victor may not be trained for zoology, but he knows how I record my findings. And I’d imagine Constantine is the same with you.”

“Where are you going with this?”

Gray eyes shut as she proposed her idea, “Look, I’m saying we search as scheduled for a fortnight, then leave the men to finish up any extra discoveries while we go to the second smallest island.”

It was quiet for a long moment, the air filled with only the splash of water against the carrack’s wood and the sound of Zatanna brushing her hair off her shoulder. The anthropologist didn’t give an answer, only queried, “Is that the closest one?”

Raven nodded. “We won’t have to go searching too hard, just a quick circle around on the carrack and maybe we can anchor down if we spot anything that may suggest Themyscira still lives on.”

Their gaze met and Zatanna’s lips pursed, “Why?”

A sigh escaped the young woman and she straightened her posture, her respect less begrudging as before, “As much as I know about how animals and humans interact, your expertise would be more than helpful. Especially if we do find any evidence of the Amazons.”

Her chin tilted towards the door, “Obviously, none of the sailors would let us take a raft to the shoreline if my hypothesis is correct so anything you can notice by sight would be vital.” Raven briefly motioned to her glasses then clicked her tongue, “Not to mention Mr. Wayne knows the importance of asking for forgiveness rather than permission. If we find anything substantial then he’d approve of a longer, more extensive expedition. Think of what we could accomplish individually, let alone together.”

The boat swayed again and Zatanna crossed her arms, thinking everything over. Raven let a bit of hope bloom in her chest when a minute passed without a rejection, her fingers lacing together above her stomach. Finally, what felt like eons later but really was only seventeen tilts of their ship, Zatara grunted out, “This plan is ridiculous, even for a child like yourself.”

A hopeful graphite stare made her pinch between her eyes. Zatanna shook her head in disbelief of her words as she added, “But as meritless as it is, what if not for the advancement of science?”

Raven's smile lit up the room.

A foreign, miniscule piece of Zatara thought it a comforting sight but she refused to let her mind  wander; she’d heard enough from Constantine on how well they could’ve gotten along if their rivalry had been a mentorship instead and one agreement wouldn’t change their past. Physically shaking her thoughts away, all the older woman did was sigh as she motioned to the door, “It’s getting late, Raven. Give me until dinner to find all that I can from my own notes then we’ll discuss a plan of action in the morning.”

The zoologist nodded, her head tilting as she added, “May I ask that this stays between us? At least for now.” Her lips quirked down, “I hate lying to Victor but we need our strategy to be foolproof before we introduce them to the idea.”

Zatanna considered her words and agreed, “Very well, then. We still have three weeks; that’s plenty of time for the likes of us.”

[the-dominatrix-stories]

Imma Marry You One Day

Revali x OC/reader kind of

Chapter One: a childish love

When they met for the first time, they were children with open hearts and curious minds. They’ve never seen anything like the other.  Joelle’s parents lived in a cabin near the infamous Rito Village, where their daughter often tried to visit. Though Joelle’s shyness was a fierce opponent and she ran away before making it to the gate. Her mother often spoke about how pretty the Rito were. How their feathers gleamed in the sunlight, weapons lighter than air, her mother was happiest when speaking about them. Joelle felt bad, she knew she would be allowed to visit the village since her father often did for supplies. Maybe today she’d get the gumption to go through with it?

‘Yes.’ She thought. ‘If I get scared, I’ll close my eyes.’ Before she could reconsider, she stormed towards the village for the 45th time this week. ‘I’ll be fine if I just close my eyes.’ She breathed in as she stepped onto the bridge. She wasn’t afraid of the heights, but she fretted over the villagers. Did they really look like giant birds? She’d hopefully know now. The trek up the many bridges was fast, she looked over edges and splashed in the puddles that littered the path. She pressed forward as she stood on the last bridge, the farthest she’d gotten. She looked up and saw her first Rito. The Rito guard. She was in similar clothing to her, carrying a spear. They made eye contact and she froze.

 The guard cocked her head to the side at the sight of the little girl but smiled and waved anyway. Joelle shook herself out of it and waved back a bit more sheepishly than she planned. ‘They can’t be mean if they greet so friendly? Could they?’ Curiosity won over and she crossed the bridge. The female Rito crouched down to her size. “What can I do for you? Are you lost?” She smiled.

Joelle shook her head. “Nope, I was just wanting to ask…” She rubbed her arm. “Are you a Rito? Mommy says that Rito’s live here…and I wanted to see ‘em…” She panicked looking anywhere but the guard. The soldier laughed before nodding. “Yes, I am a Rito. And this is Rito Village.”

Joelle beamed. “Are all Rito your size or bigger?”

The guard thought for a moment. “The children are around your size, but most of the men are taller than me.”

Joelle hopped from foot to foot. “May I, uh explore the village for a while?” The guard patted her head, tousling her hair. “You don’t need to ask dear, go on ahead. Just make sure you get home on time, ok?”

Joelle nodded ecstatically, speed walking up the stairs. She stepped into the slippery falcon, buying a small snack with the rupees she had on hand. She peeled off bits of sunshroom to eat and stuff the rest in her pocket. She looked toward the landings, watching the male Rito come to a stop on them. “Woah, so cool.” She gaped, as one of them took off the landing once more. One of the males looked over at her with a small smile. “Hello, little one.” He waved gently. She looked around her, seeing only herself. “H-Hi Mister, you’re a boy rito right?”

He guffawed at her analysis. “Yes, I am. You can call me Chief Kalin.”

“The Ritos have a chief?” She walked closer for inspection, he didn’t seem all that different from the other males around him. “Yes, I’m the chief alright. And just who might you be?”

She jutted her hand out. “My name is Joelle. Nice ta meet you Chief ‘alin.” He took her hand gently and shook it. “What brings you to Rito village? Don’t Hylians stay around the stable?”  

“Mommy kept talking ‘bout how pretty Ritos are, so I wanted to see them myself.” She grinned brightly. “How come you’re so tall? Do you get sweaty with all your feathers? How do you fly? How do you sleep? Is it in a nest? Are you related to pigeons?” He raised his hand to stop her bombardment. “Woah calm down. I don’t think I can give you those answers. Because I don’t know myself.”

She deadpanned. “oh, sorry sir.” He waved it off. “It’s fine. There are just somethings we just don’t know.” He thought for a moment. “Can you do me a favor, Joelle” He leaned in close to her when she nodded. “There’s a rito boy named Revali, he doesn’t have a lot of friends. Will you befriend him for me?” She pursed her lips and shrugged. “What does he look like?”

He beamed. “He’s about your height, he has a couple of braids in his feathers. His feathers are dark blue. He carries a swallow bow everywhere.”  He thought for another moment. “He can be a little mean at first, but he’s really nice when you get to know him. Ok?” She nodded. “Ok, sir. I’ll try to find ’im!” She smiled and hopped up the stairs of the village. Kalin sighed, hoping Revali can swallow his pride enough to finally make a friend.

She glanced around each level of the village. Asking a couple of younger ritos where he might be. “He’s in his house next to the chief house. He’s tryna fix his bow again.” The young rito, named Ingo, laughed. She went to the top of the village and saw the small rito in the middle of the room, sitting crisscross with a bow in his hands. He was tightening it and fiddling with it.  She watched from the door, transfixed by his movements. He blushed as he stopped. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see what you were doin’. What broke your bow?” She stepped in closer and sat in front of him. He puffed up with pride. “It didn’t break, I’m upgrading it, so it works better. Duh!”

She smiled. “Cool, can I watch?” He flushed again. “Sure, if you say who you are first!” He waggled the bow threateningly at her. “My name’s Joelle. My friends used to call me elle! What’s yours?”

“Well, my name is Revali! I’m gonna be the best archer in the entire rito village, just you wait.” He boasted. “Once I get my bow upgraded I can go to the flight range with Chief Kalin and practice.” He smirked as he continued working on his bow. “Could I watch you practice? I wanna know how to fire a bow too.” He looked up at her, shocked. “You don’t know how to fire a bow?” She shook her head. “Nope.”

He thought for a moment. “How about tomorrow, I teach you how to fire a bow and stuff. And in exchange, you have to… be my biggest fan.” She mulled it over. “Okay. I think I can do that.” They shook on it.

She watched him fix his bow, asking various questions on what exactly he was upgrading. Apparently, the string wasn’t tight enough and the bow’s frame was bent. He discussed with her how to fix it, even though it was mostly one-sided. She pulled out her leftover sunshroom from her pocket and took a piece, careful not to get crumbs anywhere. He glanced up, seeing the food made his stomach rumble. It cut through the comfortable silence and made her giggle. “Do you want some, I can share.” He sighed and nodded. “Yes please.” She broke the rest of it in half offering him a side. “Here, It’s good.”

He took the piece and set down his bow. He nibbled on it happily, telling her there’s a tasty recipe involving sunshrooms that he was reminded of. She grinned and told him about her mother’s fruitcake. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring you some. She always has leftovers.” He laughed. “It’ll have to be the best if you want the great revali to approve of it.” She laughed again, the joyous sound made him even prouder. “I sure hope so, ‘vali.” He blushed at the nickname but left it all the same by taking another bite of shroom. “Hey, Elle. What are you? If I’m a rito?” She bit her lips in thought. “Mommy said we’re Hylian. We’re smaller than humans.” He crossed his arms, “What are humans?”

She paused. “Humans kinda look like me, but they have rounded ears and are taller.” She gestured. “They’re not all girl’s like me though.” He nodded, finally coming to somewhat of an understanding. “Ok, do you have a chief too?” She shook her head. “Nope, we have a king I think. I’ve never met him though.” The rest of the day seemed to slip them by as they asked a variety of questions to each other. As the sun set, she panicked. “Sorry ‘vali. I need to get home.” She rushed up to leave. “See ya tomorrow.” He nodded with a grin. “See ya!”

 She ran down the stairs two at a time. Taking as long strides as possible in an effort to get home before dark. How did she let this happen? Usually, she’d get home much earlier, especially when she was so far away. Well, at least she was able to make a friend today. Maybe that would be a good enough excuse for her mother. She waved goodbye to the guard as she passed.

Her small feet smacked the wooden bridges as she practically flew down the path. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother about her new friend, and what she did in Rito village. Her mom stood outside the cabin, shouting. “Joelle! Where are you?” She waved at her mom. “Mommy, you’ll never guess what happened today!” Her mother nudged her in. “What?” She chuckled. “Hold that thought dinner’s done, get your food from the pot then tell me.”  

She nabbed a slice of bread to go with the stuffed pumpkin stew. Before taking her food to the dining room table. “I finally went to rito village. An I became friends with a rito boy named Revali! He swears he’s gonna be the best archer in the rito village.” Her mother smiled. “Oh? So, you had fun, that why you were a little late home?” She inquired. “Yeah, I’m sorry I lost track of time.” Joelle apologized. Her mom laughed. “Just be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 Joelle smiled shyly. “Tomorrow he’s gonna let me watch him practice shooting at the flight range. He’s going there tomorrow with Chief Kalin.” Her mother smiled. “Alright, but this time try to be home on time.”

 After dinner, it was bedtime. Joelle was practically vibrating with anticipation for tomorrow. She laid in bed curled up into a tight ball. ‘when will tomorrow be here yet?’ She tossed and turned before inevitably falling fast asleep.

 Back at Rito village, Chief Kalin made a meal for both himself and Revali. The boy scarfed down the food he was given as quickly as possible. “So, you seem to be in a better mood.” Kalin eyed the child beside him. “What happened?”

Revali smiled proudly. “I’ve met the girl, I’m gonna marry.”

[untaemedqueen]

Please Take Care of Us > k.th

Chapter 35. (Ending)

I wake up with a groan as the morning sun shines into my eyes. "Yuna." I mutter opening my eyes. I grab my phone and look at the clock. 4:30 I should let her sleep a little bit more. I stand up and stretch my body before opening up the windows hearing the countryside sounds making me smile. I look over at Yuna before tilting my head. I wonder if she really will get pregnant after last night. I sit down on the windowsill looking over the green pastures waiting to be filled with cattle. I'm so happy I could take my future wife here. I hear a whimper as a breeze cuts through the window. I'm surprised Yuna feels cold at the breeze, it's so hot in here. I get up and push the comforter up her skin. My fingers grazing her bare arm. Yuna's skin felt like it was burning. She groans at the skinship and pulls away. I put my hand to her forehead. "Baby, you're burning up." I mutter sitting on the bed making her dip closer to me. "I don't feel so good." She whines opening bloodshot eyes. "Holy shit." I mutter before pressing my lips to her forehead. "You have a fever, babe." I mutter as she rolls on to her back. "I'll be okay." She mutters leaning over the bed and grabbing her water bottle. She drinks some water as she holds her head. "I have a headache." She whispers ripping the sheets off her body. "Maybe we should stay in today." I mutter as she puts her head back against the wall. "No way! I want to farm!" She whines loudly. "Babe...You don't look too good. I don't know what's wrong. You shouldn't go outside." I say rubbing my hands down her arm. "I'm dying to farm." She whispers with a pout. "I know." I say feeling bad. "I'll get better." She says full of gumption.

As we walk down the road with a few of the guys behind us, I keep looking over at Yuna as she walks down the road clutching my hand. "Baby. We don't have to do this. We can go back." I whisper as she tilts her head towards me. "I feel a bit better." She says looking up at me, her face almost covered by her brand name sunglasses. I kiss the top of her head before sighing. "You still have a slight fever." I mutter, "She might have POIS." Namjoon says behind me and I turn around. "PO- what?" I ask letting go of her hand. "I hooked up with a girl once that had it. It's called post-orgasmic illness syndrome." He says fixing his bucket hat. Could she really have that? That's not good. "This never happens to me." She whines fanning her face. "It sounded pretty rough, it could happen." He says making Yuna blush pink. "Okay. Okay." I say wrapping my arm around Yuna's shoulder. She puts her hand on her stomach and mutters to herself. "What's wrong?" I whisper as we slow down walking. "My cervix hurts." She whispers making me smile. "Yeah, I fucked you too good." I say biting the inside of my cheek. She giggles as my grandfathers house comes into view.

We step inside the house, greeted by my family apart from Eon Jin. They're always up early to go out to farm. "Good morning!" My mom says happily sipping on her morning coffee. "Good morning!" Yuna says before walking straight into the kitchen. "Noona, I got up so early because I'm excited to eat your food!" Jeong Guk says making Yuna giggle. "I'll help you." Jin says walking into the kitchen with her. I sit down at the table and rub my fingers over my thumb nervously as she downs a bottle of water. "What's wrong?" My dad asks fixing his baseball cap. "Yuna isn't feeling good today. She won't listen to me, she wants to farm so badly." He looks at the open kitchen as she leans herself against the counter instructing Jin to do a few things for her. "She can do something simple like getting eggs or feed the cows. You're right. She looks out of it." He says worried. I put my hand over my mouth and whisper to myself as she leans over the counter, a sheen layer of sweat developing on her skin.

"You're going to get sunburnt." I whisper walking after Yuna with a bottle of SPF Lotion. She picks up the eggs happily as the hens run away. "I'll be fine!" She says happily. "Kim Yuna. Get over here." I say loudly holding up the bottle. She looks over at me and pouts before walking over to me. "Mrs. Kim, you have to take care of yourself." I say adamantly squeezing out some lotion and rubbing it on her face. "Relax." She says with a giggle. I murmur at how hot her face is. "You always worry me. Why must you always worry me?" I ask rubbing her nose. "You don't have too." She mutters weakly and I pull back, "I'm taking care of you for the rest of my life, of course I'm worried about you. Pabo." I say rubbing her soft cheeks. She smiles up at me and my heart softens a little. "When we get back to Seoul, Byungchan got the papers from the court house for us to sign." I say hoping it brightens her mood. "Huh? What papers?" She asks confused as I rub my hand over her neck. "You need to sign papers to become my wife. Once you sign those and we turn them into the court house then you'll officially be Mrs. Kim." I say kissing the top of her head. "Ahhh. Okay." She says thinking. "We're going to have to hide. It's going to suck." She mutters, I sigh and sit down on a wooden box wiping the rest of the lotion on to my face. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry." I whisper pulling her to me. I wrap my arms around her waist and she looks down at me with a smile. "It's nothing we haven't been doing." I cock my head and sigh. "Yeah but this is different baby. You're my wife. You'll have my children. I don't want to have to hide my whole life from everyone. It's not fair to us or our future children." She bites her lip and nods quietly. "I am not going to be like Eli from U-KISS. He held his relationship a secret for so long, he couldn't even go to the hospital to see the sonograms of his kid because he was so afraid of fans." "But we HAVE to keep it a secret. You're V. Not just some guy, ARMY will freak out if they hear this news." Yuna says sitting down next to me placing the egg basket on the ground. I put my hands on my face and rub harshly. "Kim Taehyung, V, get married to former personal chef and now manager. I can see it now. And then, ARMY will murder me. They entrusted me with you, caring for me in the end and I ruin their trust like this? Taking one of the most beautiful men in all of K-Pop? No, that's crazy." Yuna says playing with her long white t-shirt. "What happens when you get pregnant? Hmm?" I ask rubbing my hand over the small of her back. "I don't know, all I know is that this is totally not a good idea to release to the public. Maybe later down the line but definitely not now. I side with Bang PD." She says seriously. "Yuna!" I whine loudly looking at my sneakers. "I have respect for ARMY, if I didn't I wouldn't even be saying this, I'd say yeah fuck 'em we can do what we want. They give their time and energy to you selflessly, without wanting a thing in return and I have to respect that." Wow, this is why I love this woman. How could she be so understanding like this? "My fans want me to be happy." "Right. They want you to be happy and they do everything for you guys. More than I could do. How would they feel if V, 24 almost 25 years, just suddenly up and got married without even a second glance or thought to them? They would die of heartbreak. I'm not doing that to them." She says intertwining our fingers. I kiss her shoulder and sigh. "I'm a person too. Don't my feelings matter?" I ask squeezing her hand. "Of course it does baby. It matters to me and to all the guys, to your family. But it doesn't matter to sasaengs and evil fans." She says, I know she's right but I can't be feel helpless. I put our hands to my forehead and I sigh defeated. "I feel so disrespected." I mutter looking up at the graying sky. "You have me forever. Do people really need to know?" Yuna asks, "I want to tell everyone how happy I am and how much I love you." I say looking into her hazel eyes. "It's just not possible right now. We can only think about how happy we are going to be together." She says patting my hand happily. "What if you get pregnant? You'll be showing in front of all ARMY. What are you going to do then?" I ask looking down at her engagement ring. "I'm not sure. We can figure that out." She whispers. I nod and bite my lip. "Tomorrow we have to go to the court house. Do you want to have a ceremony?" I ask trying to change the subject from this horrible conversation. I stand up and offer her a hand to get up.

We start picking up eggs relishing the shade of a gigantic tree near the hen house. "How could we have a ceremony? That's crazy. There's no doubt someone will find out, we can't do it in public." She says sadly. "You deserve to have a beautiful wedding." I say feeling guilty. "Hey. Hey. I didn't even think I would get married in this life time. I don't mind." She says bending down to pick up an egg. "I want to see you in a wedding dress." I say adamantly folding my arms standing up. "Yeah, just so you can take me out of it." Yuna says with a laugh. I tilt my head with a smile. "That'd be a perk." "GET AWAY FROM ME!" Jin yells running past the hen house with Jungkook right behind him holding a bug. Yuna laughs and puts her hand on her neck watching them run. "BE CAREFUL! DON'T HURT YOURSELVES!" Yuna screams and I rub her arm chuckling. "Why don't we have a ceremony at the house?" I ask her, she ponders on it for a second. "Yeah. Right. How many people can we fit in one apartment? Not even 70 people could fit in it during the party." I sigh and bite my lip, "Fuck, Yuna I really want to have a ceremony." I say putting my head back distraught. I feel a drop of water hit my cheek and I look up at the deep grey sky. "It's raining. Let's get going." I say as rain drops land on my skin quicker.As we start to run, Yuna holds her basket close to her. The rain hits the ground harder and she laughs as we fly down the dirt road, dirt kicking up underneath us flying through the breeze. As we reach my grandfathers house Yuna stands underneath the rain as it patters against her skin. "Baby, you are sick. Let's go inside." I say standing underneath the patio awning. "Haven't you ever wanted to kiss your almost wife in the rain?" She asks looking over at me as her cheeks collect more of the falling rain. I laugh and step off the patio before wrapping my arms around her waist. "It is a nice idea." I whisper picking her up and spinning her around making her squeal happily as she grabs on to my arms. I look up at her in my arms and move my arm to her neck pulling her down for a sweet, chaste kiss. She giggles into my kiss as the rain slaps against our skin harder. I smile and look up at her as she pulls away. "I love you." I whisper nuzzling her collarbone. I set her down gently as the rain starts to slap harder. "Come on baby." I say pulling her underneath the awning. "I love you too." She says looking out over the now rainy farm. As we stand there my arms over her shoulder, my head over hers I hear a small gasp. "What? Are you okay?" I ask putting my head next to hers. "Tell me I'm brilliant and amazing." She says turning to me. I raise an eyebrow. "You're brilliant and amazing. Now, why?" I ask moving her wet hair off her neck. "Oh, we'll have a ceremony." She says and I furr my eyebrows. "Where? At the house?" I ask looking down at her. "No. Not at the house." She said puckering her lips. "Then where?" I ask tilting my head. "Here." She says extending her arm, her hand grazes over the far landscape and she smiles widely. I look up at the farm and smile widely matching hers. "You're brilliant and amazing!" I say peppering kisses over her lips and cheeks. She laughs and I pet her head. "That's a great idea baby." I whisper resting my head on top of hers again.

"Hey grandpa?" I ask as all of my family and the boys sit in the living room. I look over as Jungkook, Jeong Guk, Jin and Hoseok teach Yuna, Go Stop. "Wow. You're so much like Tae. How could you possibly not understand game rules?!" Jin says pointing at Yuna with a laugh. "They're complicated rules!" She whines putting her hand under her chin and I smile warmly at the scene. "Yes, Taehyung?" My grandpa asks sitting down next to my dad on the brown leather couch. "Can Yuna and I have our ceremony here?" I ask. My mom claps happily with a squeal. "What? Of course you can!" "Why'd you pick here?" Eon Jin says dissatisfied. "Because Yuna and I have to hide our marriage. This is away from civilization and prying eyes." I say looking around at the reactions. "That's a great idea!" Jimin says shaking my shoulder. "I would rather have the ceremony here then not have one at all." Yuna comments throwing down a card. "Yuna." Hoseok mutters picking up the card and putting it back into her pile. She looks over at him confused. "You don't know how to play." He whispers with a laugh and a shake of his head. "I think it's a great idea! We have so much room here!" "So many idols will be in the same place..." Eon Jin says excited. "Now you're happy." I say with a laugh folding my arms. "How many people?" My dad asks, "Probably around 200." I mutter running through names of friends through my head. "200?!" Yuna yells shocked. "We have a lot of friends babe." "You can't expect to invite 200 people, most of them idols and expect them to show up." She says setting down the pile of cards in her hand. "It's good to invite them anyway. It's our day. Our friends should be invited. All of them." I say as she nods tilting her head. "True." She mutters throwing down another card. "It's not your turn, noona." Jeong Guk says handing back the card and I can only smile.

I sit next from Yuna at the breakfast nook with our wedding papers in front of us. "Sign here and here." I say helping her with the Hangul. She signs it and then looks up at me. Her stare is helpless and it makes me laugh. "I'll teach you more Hangul, don't worry." "Do I sign here too?" She asks pointing at a box. "No thats for our witnesses." I say looking down at the box. "Who are we going to take as witnesses." I bite my lip thinking. We can't take all 7 guys. We'd get noticed. I feel my heart ache thinking of all the guys. "Jimin and Byungchan." I say as the two names come to the front of my brain. "Don't you think it should be Bang PD?" She asks and I groan loudly. "This is so hard." I whine before signing my signature. Yuna nods next to me before putting her forehead to the table. "Why can't we bring them all?" Yuna mutters into the glass. "Because we'll definitely be noticed. No?" I ask grabbing my phone. I look up the closest local district office. "The closest one is 15 minutes away from our house." "Do they have a parking garage, that's the question?" Yuna asks looking up. I look at the street view and look around. "They do." I say zooming in, my fingers rapidly spreading part enlarging the picture. "Then we all go." She says standing up. I smile widely at her, "I won't let our best friends miss the best day of our lives." I wrap my hands around her waist and press my head into her rib cage.

"Let's go!" I say excitedly as the guys pile into the living room. They were all wearing average clothes, nothing too stylish or noticeable with face masks, sunglasses and baseball caps. I fix my face mask and clap happily. "I'm so happy we can all go!" Hoseok hyung yells walking over to the elevators quickly. I laugh and watch as the stairwell door opens, revealing my soon to be wife. She stands before me in a white collared jersey dress, her hair pulled in a long ponytail with sharp black winged eyes and I pull off my face mask. "You look stunning." I whisper before kissing her. "COME ON!" Jimin yells with a laugh pulling us into the elevator.I jump out of the van and look around the dead parking garage. Good, no one is here. Yuna steps out of the van with Byungchan in tow. "Come on." I say to the guys and they pile out. "Oh man! I'm getting emotional already." Jin whines taking off his sunglasses. Jungkook puts his arm around my shoulder and I smile. Byungchan grabs the documents and starts walking in with a big smile. Yuna looks back at me and gives me a wink. In just a few minutes she'll actually be my wife...

We stand in front of the desk, all the guys standing behind us already crying. I look over at Yuna as the man behind the counter stares at me. I put the wedding documents on the counter and take my sunglasses off. "We're here to file for marriage." I say as he nods and looks at the documents. He looks up at me quickly after reading my name off the paper. Byungchan steps up behind me and puts a hand on my back. "We'd appreciate it if this isn't a publicly known document." Byungchan says and the man nods at him before looking at my members behind me. "We should do this quickly, there are a lot of people coming." He says smiling at Yuna. I smile widely and take off my face mask. I hear shuddering clips behind me and look at Jungkook taking phones of this special occasion. The only occasion that will the mean the most to me for the rest of my life. "If your two witnesses would sign." The man says looking around. "Chim." I say making him smile. He jumps over to us and takes off his sunglasses. "I'm so happy!" He says loudly as he signs the document. I chuckle grabbing Yuna's hand and intertwining out fingers. I look over at Yuna who is all smiles and giggles. She makes me soar. "And just one more." The man says leaning on the counter. "Byungchan oppa." Yuna speaks up and he looks over shocked. "Really? Me? I think Namjoon should." The man looks at the clock and bites his lip. He feels pressured for time, so we are not seen and I'm grateful. "Namjoon, sign!" Byungchan says happily giving a face splitting smile. "Is thay okay?" Namjoon asks smiling. Yuna nods happily and he approaches the counter. He pets Yuna's head as he dries his eyes with his hoodie sleeve. "I really love you guys and I'm so happy for you both." Namjoon says signing the document. "If I could have your ID's please." The man says with a smile. I hand mine over and Yuna does the same. "Be right back. Congratulations on your marriage." He says walking away. "We're married." I whisper looking at Yuna. Her eyes glaze over with tears and I kiss her forehead. "Kiss her!" Hoseok says crying loudly. I grab both her hands and look into her hazel pools of glory. "I love you." I whisper squeezing her hands. "I love you too, Tae." She says happily as a tear glides down her cheek. I bend down and press my lips to hers, relishing in the feeling. I raise my hand and cup her cheek. My road was over. The road that I walked down in the darkest of nights was at an end. The most bitter of nights turning into the sweetest of days. The sun was rising, the secret journey beginning. Our secret journey.

I might do a second book. Let me know in my asks if the people that read it want a sequel! 

[thefloorisbalaclava]

Rancher!McCree AU - Chapter 4 - Jesse McCree x Fem!Reader

A/N: Here it is! I know we’re only four chapters in but I needed to bring the angst because I can’t make things too easy for Jesse or Reader.

Oh and I hope you guys like cliffhangers.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Words: 2,000 Warnings: racist terminology, violence

You were sure you heard McCree’s footsteps outside your door long after you had gone into the room, but a knock never came. He was probably too angry to say anything to you. You rolled over and punched your pillow, hell, you were angry too and had every right to be. Who the hell did he think he was talking to like that? If this was how he was going to react to little things, then maybe this wasn’t the best place for you.

Where would you go?

There weren’t many people out there willing to hire someone like you and if they did they wouldn’t be as kind as McCree.

Kind. You scoffed and rolled onto your back – at least he was kind.

Your mama always told you never go to bed mad, but you had to tonight. Maybe you would wake up in a better mood.

By the time you woke up, you weren’t feeling much better, but you were going to grin and bear it. You rolled out of bed and walked to your bedroom door. Just before you opened it, you heard movement – it seems Mr. McCree had gotten up earlier. You would have to face each other eventually so you might as well get it over with.

You quickly change into your day dress and step out of the room, running right into McCree leaving his room.

“Oh…mornin’,” he says, nodding with a tight smile. You nod back and stand there awkwardly, not saying a word. He steps to the side so you can walk by. He clears his throat and you stop, turning to him slightly.

“Yes?”

“I, uh…I got somethin’ I wanna say.”

“Okay, I’m listenin’.”

“You gonna look at me at least?” he asks, and you turn to him, still not making eye contact. “Now, you may not wanna hear this, but… I’m sorry for how I was last night. We both did and said some things we didn’t mean.”

You finally look at him and shake your head, “I did nothing wrong, Mr. McCree. You overreacted, not me.” You start walking away, but he grabs your arm. You look down at his hand then at him nervously.

“Sorry…again,” he says, releasing your arm. “You’re pretty damn stubborn, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t have got this far in life if I wasn’t, Mr. McCree.”

“Right.” He allows you to walk away this time, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.

You start getting things ready for breakfast and you can feel him looking at you. “Yes Mr. McCree?”

He seems stunned that you knew he was looking at you with even turning your head. “Oh, I was wonderin’…maybe you should come into town with me today instead of stayin’ out here on your own.”

“You could always get John to…”

“No,” he says before you can finish, “I mean, he can’t today.”

You turn to him and fold your arms over your chest, “I can take care of myself, you know?” You almost laugh at the exasperated sound he makes. “I’m only pullin’ your leg. I’ll go with you.” Giggling to quietly, you begin looking for the eggs to make for breakfast until Jesse stops you.

“I know a place in town where we can get some good food. Don’t worry about cookin’ today.”

You look at him incredulously, “What makes you think they’d serve the likes of me?”

“If they serve me, they’ll serve you.” You go to speak again, but he holds up his hand,” Quit your worryin’. Let’s go.” You weren’t dressed to ride a horse and you certainly weren’t going to be comfortable. McCree seemed to notice and told you to hold on while he rummaged through a few things. “Y’all look about the same size. Here.” He throws you what appears to be a pair of trousers. You had your own, but you didn’t want to be rude.

“Thank you.” You walk back to your room to change, finding a shirt and vest to go along with the trousers. McCree had gone out to saddle the horses, so you went to meet him. “How do I look, Mr. McCree?” you ask, and he turns on his heel to look at you.

His eyes widen slightly but he clears his throat and nods, “You look like you’re ready to ride a horse.” He helps you onto your horse then mounts his, “Stay close.”

“’Kay.” You were nervous, but it was nice to get away from the ranch for a while. McCree kept glancing over at you without saying anything and you wonder what he’s thinking.

“I really am sorry,” he finally says.

“You’re forgiven.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop calling me Mister now? You know how much I hate it.”

“I’ll think about it,” you tease. Though you tried to lighten the mood, you couldn’t help but feel more nervous the closer you got to town. It was almost as if McCree could read your mind.

“I won’t let nothin’ happen to you. I promise.” You turn to him and he nods. You trusted him. To be honest, he was the only man you had felt safe around in quiet awhile.

He moves his horse in front of yours as you enter the town center, earning looks of shock, disgust, and something else you just didn’t want to think about. Some people even went as far as stopping their conversations to stare at you. And you knew it was you they were looking at. McCree could pass, but you had no chance of being mistaken for anything other than black.

“You all right?” He turns his head to look back at you.

“They…they’re all starin’ at me…” You grab the reins a little tighter and keep your eyes straight ahead.

“Well, if they do any more than that, they’ll be dealin’ with me.” He makes a show of glaring at one man who was ogling you. He comes to a stop and hops down from his horse then walks over to help you down from yours.

You could feel all the eyes on you as he led you into the small tavern. The man behind the bar clearly recognizes McCree and raises his hand in greeting with a warm smile on his face, but it fades when he spots you. He looks around at his other patrons before walking from behind the bar to meet you two.

“Jesse, a word…” The man pulls him aside, giving you a sideways glance. He lowered his voice to speak, but you still heard every word. “…I’ve risked enough lettin’ you come in here, but her…Jesse, you tryna put me outta business?”

“McCree, maybe we should just…” you start.

“No, we’re hungry and we’re stayin’. Let’s go,” he says, walking around the man and to a table. All activity had stopped by now and you were the new entertainment, it appeared. You could hear whispers here and there and you could only imagine what they were saying.

“What would you like?” McCree asks.

“Whatever you’re havin’…sir.” He looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and you knew why but you had to play the role.

“We’ll have two bourbons and some of that delicious chicken pie!” McCree shouts over to the owner who looks close to bursting. He brings the drinks first – McCree only nods but you knew you had to do more.

“Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Hmph,” the man grunts before walking away.

“Charlie!” McCree calls out and the man stops in his tracks then makes his way back over. “I believe the lady thanked you…”

Charlie turns to you stiffly and gives you a tight-lipped smile, “You’re welcome. Chicken pies should be out in no time,” he says, and you could almost hear his teeth grinding as he walked away.

“He seems agitated,” you say.

“He’ll live,” McCree responds in a gentler tone now that he was speaking to you. Before you can speak again, Charlie is making his way over with the chicken pies.

“Enjoy,” he says bitterly. You thank him again and stare down at the food.

“Go on now. It ain’t gonna be as good as your cookin’ but it’ll do.”

You pick up your fork and dig in slowly as McCree practically devours his in front of you. You finally take a bite and are pleasantly surprised.

“Good, huh?” he asks.

“Very.” He looks at you and opens his mouth to say something but was cut off by a loud voice coming into the saloon.

“Jesse McCree!” he says, “…and his mulatto!” You look over at the man and notice that it is the same one who attacked you both at the ranch – the one you chased off with a gun. His cohort joined him shortly thereafter, heading straight for your table. “A half breed and a mulatto sitting together in public,” he shakes his head, “What is the world comin’ to?”

You kept your eyes down as McCree glares at the two men unwaveringly. “We don’t want no trouble,” McCree begins.

“If you ain’t want no trouble, you shouldn’t have let your mulatto point a gun at my head. She threatened me. She started the trouble.” He leans in close to you trying to get you to look at him, but you continued to look down. “Don’t act all innocent now, girl. Where’s that gumption you had before?” He moved so close, you could smell the liquor on his breath. Suddenly, he reached up to touch your face, but McCree stopped him.

“Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” The man’s hand dropped and now his attention was on McCree.

“Is that so? You willin’ to kill me over touchin’ some n—”

“I wouldn’t finish that word if I were you.” McCree stands and the other men’s hands hover over their holsters.

“Gentlemen!” Charlie yells, walking over to the group quickly, “Take it outside!”

You thought maybe things would cool down then, but the men step aside for Jesse, “After you, McCree.” The way he said his name scared you.

“Stay in here,” McCree says then places his hand over yours. “You hear me? No matter what happens, you stay in here.” You finally look up, meeting his brown eyes.

“Okay Jesse.” He almost reached out to run his thumb along your cheek, but only winked as he backed away from the table.

This was all your fault. Of course, these men would have bothered McCree even if you weren’t there, but he had said something in your defense and now something bad was about to happen…to him. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something were to happen to him because of you.

The entire saloon was empty now since everyone had gone to watch whatever was about to happen.

Sure, you two had your differences, but he helped you when no one else would. You…well, you cared about him and you were certain he cared for you – it was obvious now. You could not let this man die for you. He could yell at you all he wanted later, but you had to put a stop to this.

You stand and make your way to the door. You walked out, and McCree looked over at you though he had a gun pointed at him. He lifted his hands in surrender, stilling looking at you. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to have a little talk with my friend over there.” He nods to you then walks over slowly. The man kept his gun trained on his back and you wanted to scream at him to just stop.

McCree had almost reached you when the shot went off, startling you and a few other people. He gasped, and his eyes went wide.

“No!” you cry out, trying to make your way over to McCree. He reaches out to you and you take his hand, “I’m sorry,” you say as your world comes crashing down around you.

[17piesinseptember]

Dex/Nursey AU based on The West Wing episode “The U.S Poet Laureate”. No knowledge of politics or the show is needed to enjoy/reblog this fic.

~ 2.5k | pre-relationship | also on AO3

“William!” Larissa shouts down the corridor.

William looks up from Justin’s notes on the new energy plan. “Yeah?”

“I need a favour.”  Larissa falls into step beside William, following him back to the communications bullpen. “I just got an email from Derek Nurse saying he’s going to pull out of the dinner unless he gets a chance to chastise the President about backing out of signing the landmine ban. Would you mind asking Chris to talk to him?

“Why Chris?”

“He’s the landmine expert.”

“I can do it,” William offers. He’s been an admirer of Nurse’s poetry for years, and when he was announced as this year’s poet laureate, managed to feel proud for a man he doesn’t know personally.

Even though Nurse’s poems are far outside what William does as speechwriter, he appreciates the brilliance in his poetry. He’s always found himself connecting to Nurse’s poems far more than any other contemporary American writer.

Larissa stops walking. She turns to look at William. “Do you know anything about landmines?”

“Enough.” William tries to look professional and not like a school boy with a crush. Larissa sees right through it.

“William Pointdexter,” she says with emphasis. “Is there a chance that you’re a little smitten?"

William doesn’t say anything, but he’s finding it impossible to stop his skin from heating. His pale skin must be flushing red to show that, because Larissa smiles broadly at him, and clasps him on the arm. She laughs and shakes her head, but William knows it means he has the go ahead to speak to Nurse instead of Chris.

-

William stops on his way to the lobby to knock on Eric’s door. Eric is leaning behind his desk, looking at the computer screen over Tony’s shoulder.

“Eric.”

Eric and Tony look up to William. After one look at his expression, Eric shoos Tony out of his chair and out the door, following him so he can shut the door behind Tony.

Once Eric turns back around, William asks, “Does this tie look okay?”

Eric blinks at him. “What?”

William pulls at the tie he’s got on. Deep green, with minimal black checkering. “It this tie alright? Does it match the suit?”

Eric walks to his desk and leans back against it, crossing his arms.

“What’s going on, William. Where are you going?”

“Meeting with the poet laureate about the dinner, and I—”

“Want to look good,” Eric interjects. A statement, not a question. “I thought Chris was speaking with him.”

“Larissa asked me.”

“Did she ask you, or did you ask her?” Eric half-teases—a display of clarity that reaffirms to William why Eric is Deputy Chief of Staff. William feels himself flushing again. At least he’s getting it all out now and it won’t come back to haunt him later when he actually meets Derek Nurse. Hopefully.

Williams shrugs and flattens the tie back against his chest. Eric gives him a once-over, and William knows he’s going to get an honest and fashionably accurate opinion.

“It works fine. You look nice.” Coming from Eric, is really means something.

“Thanks,” William says gratefully, tucking the tie in properly and heading to the lobby.

-

Derek Nurse is sitting on a lounge, dressed in a simple suit, no tie, and reading a book. William takes a deep breath, makes sure his jacket is buttoned up right, then heads over.

“Derek Nurse?”

Nurse looks up from his books, and William immediately notices how green his eyes are. Nurse smiles and puts his book into a briefcase. He stands up and offers a hand.

“William Pointdexter.” William shakes Nurse’s hand twice before dropping it. “Senior Communications Officer.”

“Yes, I read the transcript of the State of the Union. Really compelling writing.”

“You... read it?” Williams asks with some confusion. “It’s more of a verbal oriented text.”

“Listened to it after, but I like seeing the words by themselves first.”

William nods, finding the information interesting and filing the titbit away.

“Follow me to my office?” Williams asks, already heading off because his cheeks are feeling warm again, and he doesn’t want Nurse to see.

William leads Nurse directly into his office and shuts the door behind them.

“The President needs to sign the landmine ban,” Nursey says immediately. He’s not even sitting down yet.

William can’t help it. He laughs. Nurse raises his eyebrows at him.

“Cutting right to the chase.” William clears his throat and tries not to let on how attractive he finds that.

“It’s why we’re here, yes?” Nurse asks, with something of a cutting tone to his voice, far different from the joviality he was using in the lobby.

William, having hoped for more idle chatter and a chance to discuss Nurse’s work before reaching this topic, simply leans on his desk and sighs.

“Alright.” He rubs at his forehead. “The President isn’t going to sign the ban, and you can’t ask him to at the dinner.”

“Then I’m sorry you’ve gone through all the trouble of organising it.”

Larissa is not going to be impressed if this is where the conversation ends.

“You’re not coming?” William asks incredulously, to confirm that it is Nurse’s actual intention, and not a bluff.

“Not unless the President signs the ban.”

William sighs out again, and thinks about where to begin explaining the various levels of reasoning, discussion, and planning across multiple state and federal departments that have informed the President’s decision not to sign. Nurse beats him to it.

“William, I’m honoured the White House is hosting this dinner for me. I have an opportunity that most don’t, and I’m going to use it.”

William has to give Nurse credit for his gumption, but it’s leaning too close to pigheadedness for him. It’s early morning. William was hoping this would be a nice break from all the other meetings he has today.

“You know why America won’t sign the treaty?” William asks like a lecturer to a disruptive student.

“North Korea,” Nurse answers immediately. Good. At least he’s informed himself on the issue, and wasn’t going to go to the President blind. Not that he would be getting that opportunity anyway.

“Yeah, North Korea.” William repeats with emphasis. “The only thing stopping their army marching into South Korea is our military and a border of landmines. We’ve asked to sign the ban at the exclusion of this area, and we’ve been rebuffed. Multiple times." William's voice gets louder as he pushes on. "And I’m sure you know this, but America were the ones who shepherded this agreement through international government. We’ve led the charge. You cannot ask the President to sign at the dinner.”

Nurse stares coolly at William, unimpressed by his outburst. “Then I’m sorry that you have to cancel the dinner.”

Nurse stands himself up and leaves William’s office.

-

“Did I see our poet laureate storming his way out the lobby just now?” Larissa asks, sticking her head into William’s office.

“I know,” William tries to stop the oncoming lecture.

“He can’t bring up the landmines at the dinner,” Larissa reminds him.

“I know. I’ve got his hotel info. I’m trying again this afternoon.”

“Good.”

-

“Are you guys keeping tabs on me?” Nurse asks when William meets him out the front of his hotel.

“Just when you’re in Washington,” William jokes, hoping to start this conversation off on a better foot.

“Well, that’s alright then.” Nurse says with some sarcasm, before continuing in a similar tone. “So, let me guess. You’re here to tell me to come to the dinner, and shut my mouth.”

“No,” William counters, not feeling like letting Nurse have the upper hand in their second turn at this discussion. “I’m here to tell you to come to the dinner, wear a nice suit, and shut your mouth.” William is aware he’s toeing the line between flirt and conversation. Hopefully in a subtle (but unmissable) way.

“Huh,” Nurse exclaims, and then smiles at William, pushing his beanie around on his forehead.

That mood only lasts about another two blocks before William’s voice is raised as he tackles another well-meaning, and not disagreeable criticism from Nurse.

“You don’t get it, Derek. You can’t. You don’t understand how it's going to play out.”

“Then explain,” Nurse demands. “I’m not stupid.”

“Fine.” William stops walking and shoves his hands into his coat pockets. He sometimes gets a bit aggressive with gesticulating and he wants to avoid that right now  like he hadn't this morning in his office.

“If you talk to the President, that’s the story.” William pauses, letting the message sink in. “It’s not about the landmines, it’s ‘Derek Nurse argues with the President at a dinner in his honour’. You see? No-one cares about landmines, you don’t make him sign the ban. You just look like a dick.”

Nurse flinches and William worries that he’s gone too far.

“Look,” he adds belatedly. “Just... it’s what the media is going to spin it as.”

Nurse holds a hand up, stopping anything else that William might have thought to say.

“Can you not talk? For a minute.”

“Do you get what I’m saying?” William has already failed once, he needs the clarification for Larissa’s sake and sanity. And his own.

“I said,” Nurse stresses, “stop talking.”

The hand is still up in the air between them. That’s the hand that writes his poetry, William thinks instead of speaking.

“I’m meant to be—And you’re—” Nursey takes a few steps away and then turns back to William, addressing him from this new distance. “I’m leaving. I just need...” he trails off, shaking his head.

William watches Nurse walk away, not quite sure what he’s going to be telling Larissa when he gets back to the office.

-

“Tie didn’t work?” Eric asks, falling in to step beside William as he stomps past the Chief of Staff office on the way to his own.

“Not unless by ‘work’ you mean ‘Derek is still refusing to attend the dinner’.”

“Not exactly what I meant, nope,” Eric says, with a hugely unsubtle nudge to William’s side.

William rolls his eyes. Eric is the only member of the White House staff to whom William ever admitted liking Nurse’s poetry after he got announced as the laureate. William had been tipsy and very sleep deprived at the time, and he might have let slip other things he liked about Nurse. Eric likes to remind William of the fact often.

“Try blue next time. It’ll go better with your eyes.”

Eric leaves him at his office and heads in to see Chris next door. William flips the bird to the wall separating their offices once Eric is out of sight, and then flops over the armrest and onto his well-loved couch, figuring out how to phrase ‘Derek won’t do the dinner’ to Larissa in a way that won’t end with his balls chopped off.

-

The call that evening is unexpected, but William rushes to the university campus as soon as he gets it anyway.

“William Pointdexter?” The woman in the foyer asks him.

“Yes, yeah. That’s me.” William is puffed from jogging from the cab to the lecture theatre. “What happened?”

A younger woman—a student, William assumes—answers his question. “He was halfway through the lecture when he just stopped. Like he’d realised he’d left his oven on.”

William nods at the analogy. Poetry students.

“He’s outside on the steps,” the older woman offers, obviously sensing William’s urgency.

William nods and heads off to the open doors before remembering what Larissa said he needed to ask.

“Hey, sorry.” The two women turn to look at him. “Were there any press here tonight?”

The older woman raises her eyebrows. “At a poetry lecture?”

“Right.” William nods again, then walks briskly outside.

Nurse is sitting on concrete steps leading down to a lamppost lined walkway. His legs are bunched up, arms wrapping around them. He doesn’t look shaken, but then again, William doesn’t know him all that well yet. Maybe he’s internalising.

William sits down next to him, worried Nurse must be feeling the cold, wearing only a thin shirt and no jacket. He’d offer his own if he didn’t think it would raise issues (no matter how many times Eric informs him it won’t).

William still isn’t sure what happened and why he was called in. Nurse must know other people in the area—artists always seem to have networks that defy state and country. Nonetheless, Nurse asked for William after he walked out of his lecture.

“Hi,” William says for lack of inspiration, the silence having gotten to him.

Nurse doesn’t acknowledge him. William doesn’t think so at least, but half a minute later he’s talking.

“I went fishing with a mother and her son. The boy hooked something big, heavy—his mum was so excited for him. He pulled out a landmine and we watched him explode in front of us.”

Nurse stares out into the night and visibly shivers. William abandons his previous notions of professionalism and takes his scarf off to wrap around Nurse’s bare neck.

Nurse pulls it tight gratefully, and buries his fingers in it.

“Maybe if I could just tell the President that, share where I was coming from.” Nurse looks to William for the first time that night, and he can tell his eyes are watery with emotion. “I’d just need two minutes alone, that’s all. I wouldn’t tell anyone what it was about.”

William looks into Nurse’s eyes, sees the hope there, the optimism that William often feels is being slowly trodden out from his own.

William has to turn away eventually. He sighs out, preparing himself to speak. Nurse gets there first. Again. William is coming to be thankful Nurse has the careful emotional perception of an artist. He’s saving William a lot of struggling to find the words. Writing, and re-writing them is one thing. Speaking them off the cuff is another.

“Alright,” Nurse says softly, accepting. “Alright.”

William waits in the silence for Nurse to leave again. He doesn’t. It’s enough that William really moves past professionalism to ask the question he’s been holding inside for almost an hour.

“Why call me?” Nurse turns to him. His eyes are dry now, but still shine in the moonlight. “Why ask them to call me?”

Nurse moves his fingers over William’s scarf. “I already knew, really, that I wasn’t going to be able to share the story with the President, and I just thought...” Nurse shakes his head. “I felt you’d be a good person to tell it to.”

William feels his insides swell at the admission. “I’m glad you did.”

Nurse looks over at him and smiles, and William returns it. Nurse holds his gaze for longer than necessary before standing up. It’s enough to make William think on being optimistic for once.

“Will you be at the dinner?” Nurse asks.

“Of course.” William stands up as well, bringing them eye to eye.

“Good. I’ve got sixty-four couplets on American life to read.”

“I know.” William has read them already.

“And I’d like to spend some time with you after, if that’s possible.” Nurse cocks his head.

Williams carefully clears his throat before he speaks. “I think that’s possible.”

Nurse smiles again. He unwinds the scarf from around his neck, and loops it back around William’s, stepping in close.

“Thanks for the scarf, Will,” Nurse says, then disappears back into the building, leaving William staring after him, with a hopeful feeling for next week’s dinner, and a scarf smelling faintly of Derek Nurse.

[notawordtome]

**No. More. Doctors. Dammit.**

Fucking fuck fuck.

I’ve calmed down a bit now, but walking in here this morning just overwhelmed me...I got the results back from the MRI and it turns out I might have lazy eye. Suggested I go to an ophthalmologist to be sure, as it could be an underlying cause of my headaches.

However, eye pain doesn’t cause headaches...like ever.  And it’s bad enough knowing I have yet another problem I don’t have the time or the energy to resolve.

My headaches are doing better.  Still lingering, but not because of my eye.  If it were my eye, it would have done a lot more by now because I’ve had this (very small) issue for years.

But this adds to all the rest of the shit I’m dealing with:

Tension headaches, ovarian cysts, my monthly (biweekly) cycle, issues with my teeth and my vaginismus.  AND I’m trying to lose weight.  

Just...enough already.

On top of that, I come into work and I feel this sense of oppression and testosterone that I hadn’t felt before.  I felt threatened, crowded, scared, small. I don’t know if that’s just something that’s always been there or if I’m feeling it more today because I’m under a lot of stress.

Calmer now, hiding in my office.  I need coffee, maybe something to snack on, but I don’t want to leave.

I just want to go home.  

It would be too hard for me to find something else to do, I need to stick it out.  Benefits are great, pay rate is pretty good.  It would be foolish to leave it...but I wish I could with all my might.

I’m stuck here until I give birth, or find another job.  I don’t have the energy or gumption to find a new job because the one I have pays well.  Other jobs won’t be as kind.

I want to go home.  I don’t want to be here...but I have no way to justify taking time off.  Florizel is at work today and I have appointments and what not coming up.  Speaking of which, I’m hoping to hear back from the dentist today.  

And I fuck up at work too.  I’m such a broken fuck up, but I can’t go home.  I have no reason to go home, even though I’ve just been crying off and on all morning.  I have no reason to leave.

I have no reason to cry, no reason to be upset.  But I’m having one of those days where I go back and forth.  Only today, I’m just in a horrible mood and it got worse the moment I walked through the door.  I wasn’t even looking for a problem, but there it was!  

No more doctors, no more bullshit.  Just let me have my headaches in peace.  I’d be better off trying to fix them on my own at this point.

God, help me.  I’m struggling so hard right now and it’s wearing me down.  I need to get out of here, but it will still be waiting.  It never goes away, that dread of returning here.

And it’s not that horrible, just uncomfortable.  Small things set me off, the atmosphere in general is unsettling.  It’s been proven that I could be having a shitty day, then feel 10 times better when I get home.

Hmm.  Seems pretty telling to me.

My job is easy enough, some days I just sit here.  Other days, I’m a fuck up and I just make it through.  I get talked down to, get passive aggressive remarks, and some days it’s just too much to bear.

My problems are not enough to take time off work for, but they are enough to make work an unhappy place to be.

Ah well.  In the meantime, there is Best Friend who makes it better.  Being on opposite sides of the country can’t stop our love.

And, Florizel.  He has put up with the most, has been the ideal husband and so much more for me.  I worry about him most...pray for him, if you would.

Back to work while I’m calmer.