#i'm just happy to get a fresh one out WITH a semi-fresh chapter :)

[safyresky]

Frostmas Year 4: Behind the Scenes

Prologue | Y1 | Y2 | Y3 | Y4 | Y5 | Y6 | Y7 | Y8 | Y9 | Y10 | Y11 | Y12

[To Read Frostmas: From the TOP on ao3 | ff dot net]

This'll be an interesting one to cover, given that I'm doing it while prepping for a cross-post which ultimately led to a full on rewrite 🤪🤪

So let's get into it! Year 4: Behind the Scenes, twenty twenty four edition >:)

Intro: OLD VERSION

My first thought that has me CACKLING I actually posted about IMMEDIATELY upon opening it for a reread lmao. An AN apologizing for a 7k word chapter lmao. I think these days that's a SMALL chapter by Dani standards!

It is now a whopping 12k. Pre second read through. Which is occurring as I edit this draft.

Here at safyresky industries, we are nothing but verbose✨

RIGHT SO. OLD VERSION

The old version is very fresh post-OG CS, tbh. Jacqueline mentions how she and B-Man became friends BECAUSE of this universe, right? Okay, well, they got on so well I was like "there's no WAY they've JUST become friends. They act like they've known each other forEVER"

So I changed that halfway through Frostmas, went back to edit a couple bits, and when I rewrote CS again, had it become more evident--especially with posting "When Bernard Met Jacqueline" halfway through this process, which was very much me just trying to figure out how friendship they are

The answer, it turns out, is yes. Very friendship

SO while cross-posting to ao3 we WILL be tweaking the "baby's first friend" thing

Can you believe when I initially created Jacqueline, she had no friends? fucking WILDIN. She's the friendliest bitch ALIVE. She gets along with the god damn BOOGEYMAN (in my head that is, lol, but given that I am fully referring to lmelodie's OC here, they obvi would be the boss there!)

(but Jacqueline in my head is like "I am making friends with this scraggily ass mother fucker)

ANYWAY.

Another old bit that I'm thinking of yeeting involves Jacqueline's comment on humans? It was a bit of foreshadowing for another story I was thinking of that'd've come after Into the Shadows, in which a chaotic entity of some sort manages to move ACTUAL LIVE HUMANS into Crystal Springs, the magical continent. BUT given that now it's not humans vs magical creatures but magibeans, magihumans, and ordibeings, this bit is super outdated and ALSO, given the collaborative nature round these parts, I...actually don't think I'll be WRITING this idea EVER, lmao

It was a Jack love interest story 100% but now I'm like "...nah" about it, lol

Tho the original idea of a human that knows of and teaches about magibeans moving to CS/finding themselves there is still very intriguing and gd funny

All the magibeans are perplexed. The Assembly is like "well,,,,it's not not allowed?? We never banned it? HOW did they even GET HERE"

So YEAH, there's your two interesting facts for the OLD INTRO

Intro: NEW VERSION

Blaise, Jacqueline, and Fiera have gnarly tempers. Jacqueline is ever so jealous they can literally explode things.

I have been heavily vibing the little brief peeks into when Jacqueline was asking Jack all about his take on Frostmas and I thought the one in Y3 would be the last one

But then I re-read the intro

And. Well. HERE WE ARE.

I actually really liked this one! It's been lots of fun picturing the Frostmas Asides part of Frostmas so far--hence the increase in these little blips and the Blinter aside I have in drafts that I will unleash. At some point. It takes place during Frostmas Y3, lol.

Idk I just really like examining how these mofos function, given the past and reformed villainy and such. WRITING IS FUN.

I may need to scrimbly this because it is the funniest fucking mental image I have given myself in a hot minute:

That had made him laugh, which was nice to see. I’d been grilling him for like, six days at this point—on the job, at home, as he was trying to enjoy a morning coffee in the silence of his condo, watching the lovely flurry outside when the little flurry herself barged in with more questions at eight in the goddess-damned morning.

I am absolutely WHEEZING about it, it's giving HOLY FROST MOM vibes lol

"You are the goddess's biggest idiot" another absolute banger of a line

BERNARD! :D. Idk why but I'm just really here for soft and no nonsense B-Man. I just LOVE writing him actually caring about the other elves it just. It SLAPS. It FEELS RIGHT. Yes he snaps sometimes and seems a lil' grumpy in tsc 1 (I mean, I would be too dealing with Scott), BUT HE IS A BIG OLD SOFTY IN MY BOOKS WHO LOVES THE ELVES AND LOVES HIS JOB AND SHOULD LEGALLY BE GIVEN A WEAPON AND ALLOWED TO DO A MURDER I THINK

ANYWAY. HOW DOES JACQUELINE DO BE KNOWING.

I have explanations for all of it in place, but those won't be revealed until Y12. SO, in the meantime, I had Jacqueline explain our logic so far in the LEAST spoilery way possible, and that is why this whole passage exists, lol.

Jacqueline hating on Santa Scott is 100% my bad, post-series

It is also me projecting! I am in the same camp as Jacqueline when it comes to "people who have wronged friends". My love language is VIOLENT THREAT aka, IT'S THE THREAT THAT COUNTS 💖

It was also my way of keeping Jacqueline's comment on ordibeings being in CS in without it coming off as like, anti-human propaganda or smth lol (see the foreshadowing an ex-story comment above!)

"And considering what happened to him [B-Man]…well, I think it's better that way."

So THAT was my first stab at foreshadowing what happens to B-Man in (checks calendar) Year Eight! I made them as vague as possible bc we don't know what happened to Bernard between tsc2 and tsc3--that is, we DIDN'T.

BUT I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THE SERIES IS CANON!

Anyway, I tried to make it as vague as possible on purpose bc I wanted to keep everyone guessing >:) and MAYBE make them think I killed off B-Man 🤭🤭🤭

GUESS WE'LL HAVE TO WAIT FOR YEAR 8 TO FIND OUT! ;D

Also. I should REALLY crosspost "When Bernard Met Jacqueline" like. STAT

Scene 1: MN's visit

I have SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS ONE. A lot on the subject of old vs new, tbh!

Right, so, in the OG. MN felt SO MEAN.

And I have this thing. this very particular thing about MN's character and characterization, specifically.

I get SO MAD when people make her SO MEAN FOR NO REASON. I have seen so many bad takes where she's just the worst, an absolute bitch, super rude and unfriendly and I'm like? Mother Nature? Mother Freakin Nature???

Like SURE OKAY. FUCK WEATHER. THAT SHIT SOMETIMES DOES NOT SLAP!! But come ON. She's Mother Nature! Yeah she's scary and THE literal force of nature, but why just that? Why shouldn't she be kind and caring? PLENTY OF MOMENTS IN THE MOVIES WHERE SHE APPEARED SHE WAS GENTLE AND SOFT SPOKEN. COME ON!

AH.

Needless to say. As I was prepping this for crosspoting, I reread MN asking Jacqueline to use her connection and went "SHE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY OR DO THAT"

She would RESPECT BOUNDARIES! AS WE ALL SHOULD!

And I've just come out of like 5 years worth of boundaries being trampled ALL OVER so I was very not here for it so, naturally, I changed that shit RIGHT UP. RIGHT UP. AH!

I thought it'd be hard to restructure Jacqueline's reaction, but it TURNS OUT after the YEAR I'VE HAD it was quite was and made sense for her to immediately jump the gun, as it were, and get herself all worked up bc I have been doing this for a solid year and a half at this point so. y'know. FELT.

Poor girl's been in Fight mode for a solid 4 years at this point! She's just trying to survive! It's no WONDER she explodes that easily

Jacqueline: I can't explode :(

Also Jacqueline: explodes ~✨emotionally✨~

I've also found, revisiting Frostmas post CS rewrite and MtF clean up and 10 years of development on the cast of characters here had me looking at how I characterized WINTER and going WELL THIS IS WRONG

So she's...not as sad and despondent and holding Jacqueline at arms length

Instead, she is doing her best to be there for Jacqueline while also not being overbearing bc she very much does NOT want a repeat of number 1 with number 2!! ah!

They're all trying not to step on each other's toes and they aren't even in the SAME ROOM

THE BELL THING! It's how I hc they call meetings! Slash how the CS versions do it :)

They all have a tiny little bell that works as an e-mail, lol. You pick it up, which activated it, give it your message/meeting deets, and then give it a little ring! It sends the message to the other bells, and the other Legendaries get it, and they meet up at the place of the person who called it--unless otherwise specified.

I imagine they have specific yearly meetings that take place on or around the same time, and the bells are used to update meetings or call emergency ones! :)

I've no idea where I got the idea from but it's giving Polar Express, isn't it? 🤔🤔🤔

I'm getting the sense I may have to make a list of aliases for Blaise a la the one I have for Jacqueline. So far we've got about 70 variations of the phrase "hottie hot hottie" courtesy of Winter, fiery dilf courtesy of my husbando, baby cleaner extraordinaire, and now, apparently carpet steamer, too!

I quite enjoy picturing the Frosts using their elemental proficiency for mundane things. Like starting fires (IN THE FIREPLACE/HEARTH!), Dishes. Cleaning carpets, apparently 🤣

"I've half a mind to lightning bolt the next person who brings it up" YES MN. MUCH BETTER. GO OFF! I wrote this then pictured EB becoming a giant poof ball and wheezed, so it stayed 😎

"And you should hear this too, mom" is deffs a reference to that meme lol. It's been in my head as of late :p. Pedro Pascal is an enjoyable human being tbh!

God. Having Jacqueline be allowed to swear in the narration was like. My BEST idea. FEELS GOOD. FEELS RIGHT. SHE'S A POTTY MOUTH. Probably the worst of her siblings. Yes, even Fiera!

Mmmmm well maybe not QUITE. I think Fiera comes close but Jacqueline takes the damn cake lol

Scene 2: "You Look Like Sleet, B-Man"

They both do tbh, lmao, who're you fooling, Jacqueline 😏😏

Have you guys ever read Just An Elf by Locrain-Mode over on fanfiction dot net? I strongly recommend you do. The BEST Bernard characterization I EVER did see exists in the series of oneshots and it is 100% how I inform my characterization of B-Man.

ESPECIALLY in Frostmas tbh!!

Crystal Springs FACT: Jacqueline dislikes puns. A lot. There is one (1) exception she'll make and I'll keep that close to my chest for a rainy day ;)

Anyway, focusing on the behind the scenes stuff now: Bernard calling Jacqueline "Jacquie" is 100% me inflicting pain on shittyelfwriter on purpose bc we're friends and i love her, lol

I ALSO love angst! And what, indeed, is up with Elle during Frostmas? where's she at?

We'll find out year 12 ;)

But you can see WHY it gave Jacqueline hope--for a brief moment she lived in a world where maybe Bernard remembered--which would make this whole situation like, wayyyyy smoother and easier to take care of for the both of them tbh!

So of course, we CAN'T have that!

Anyway I really love Jacqueline and B-Man's friendship. And they both deserve some floor time. And yes, I 100% meant to end this scene with Jacqueline giving these vibes:

huehuehuehuehue >:3

Scene 3: MEETING TIME

Oh, Council meetings. I'm sure they made the ribbing in the movie as a one off joke, espesh since it is. y'know. a very old person kinda joke, but I quite enjoy it!

Anyway, throwing Jacqueline into the Council Meeting gave me the utmost glee bc I got to dial up her frosty-ness, bordering her on Jack territory and given everything she'd JUST told Bernard, I was CACKLING as I put this blorbo through the ringer >:)

It does foreshadow how things go later what with her frosty attitude! ehehe >:)

I'm actually applauding myself as I reread/edit/tweak/rewrite. I really was laying it in for Year 10's big reveal, eh? >:D

"If Two-ie over here would just look into his mind..." <- A fun lil' nickname for Jacqueline given that she is the Second Jack Frost. Two-ie? Two-y? You get it lol

SUBLIME. Barbie movie is, apparently, still on the brain lol.

And Jacqueline is once again ruining furniture by way of losing control of powers slightly! I love when she does that >:)

AND JACK'S GRAND ENTRANCE! The bit about him moving the frost instead of Jacqueline is a new edition and I love it.

YEAH! MAKE EACH OTHER SUFFER! REMIND HIM AGAIN THAT HE CAN'T DO HIS USUAL SLEET, MWAHAHAHA

And VOILA! The Resort...BEGINS. Well, almost!!! I mean, in the movie Jack himself says he started out doing the job as is but found it to be too much work--and making a theme park like THAT? I think it'd take a little bit more time, especially with such a huge operations shift. so! Year Four the idea is revealed!

FRANCHISING. IDK WHY I DIDN'T THINK OF IT UNTIL NOW, TEN ISH YEARS LATER!!! Imagine an AU where they DID franchise and all of the Council Members now had their realms open as theme parks slash resorts?? like. WHAT would make them AGREE TO THAT

I feel like at this point my Frostmas mantra is "how can I make this WORSE"

"COOKIES are DELICIOUS!" Crystal Springs FACT: Jacqueline has a MAHOOSIVE sweet tooth. She's more partial to cakes and cupcakes, but a good cookie is a good cookie, y'know?

AND THEN SHE GETS KICKED OUT OF THE MEETING. ICONIC.

“You’ve got a kill count?” “Bernard, I was a pirate. But shenanigans aside, I’m a whole entire season. I’m sure that thousands of people have died from like, hypothermia or exposure during a storm I ushered in.” “Pretty sure that that’s not on you.” I pouted. “Well maybe I want to have a kill count!” “Oh, well, in that case, don’t let me ruin your fun.”

Please, they're so FUNNY. I think I added about 3k words to this chapter upon crossposting? And it was all added dialogue, like this

I am but the vessel. These fuckers stole the wheel a long, long time ago

"...and a whole lot of aggression to misplace" fun fact: this is 100% a Danny Phantom reference that has lived rent free in my head since I was TEN, PROBABLY. He's pissed about something then the box ghost is all BEWARE and Danny's like "😏😏 heLLO MISPLACED AGGRESSION!"

Idk why it stuck with me, but it did! We're not going to read into/psychoanalyze that! :D

AND BOOM, I HIT YOU WITH THE ENDING LINE!

I think it hit better before, but tbh it needed a bit of finagling given how the story has progressed since I originally wrote this chapter. I deffs think it plays into the bigger picture better like this! And tbh, that's good enough for me :3

Not as many memes or references to real world shit in this one. I guess I was having a chill time when I originally posted it? It was very fun to rewrite it! I've forgotten how fun it is to pit the cold front against one another in this timeline~

Enjoy the BTS! And enjoy the FRESHLY UPDATED Frostmas: Year Four here on ao3 and on ff dot net like, tomorrow ish! 💖

[blue-slxt]

Our Song Cord: If The World Was Ending, You’d Come Over, Right?

(Chapter 5)

A/N: It feels like it took me forever to really work out how I wanted this chapter to play out lol. But overall, I'm satisfied with how it came out so I hope you guys enjoy it too. I'm not the best at angst, but I think it came out well. Every chapter title is a song reference, so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are heavily encouraged. All characters are aged up.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Pregnancy, Labor, Birth, Mentions of Death, I think that's all

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: It's time for the arrival of your baby and Neteyam gets clocked upside the head with revelations. Also, Kiri is best girl.

Things were never the same with you and Neteyam after that night. Aside from a few fleeting glances from across the way, he completely avoided you. He didn’t come hunting with you, never sat with you at dinner, hell, you even missed how he would tease you about the awful accessories you would try to weave together for him. To everyone else, he was still Neteyam, the prince of the Omatikaya, but to you, he became a stranger. To make matters worse, he started heavily leaning into his “relationship” with Layao. You almost would never find one without the other these days. You almost preferred he physically tore your heart from your chest with his bare hands. That would have hurt less than this.

Kiri would still come to check on you from time to time. You told her what had happened and she immediately tried to run to go tell Neteyam the truth. As much as you wanted him to know; as much as you knew he deserved to know, it felt like this was the way things were just supposed to be. Your arrangement was always supposed to be only temporary. Neteyam was always supposed to be with Layao. It’s what’s best for the clan. So, if that means taking a step back and figuring things out on your own, then that’s what you’ll do. The first few weeks were the hardest. You found yourself sitting alone on the ground of your floor in tears nearly every day. You hardly left your home anymore. If it weren’t for Kiri consistently coming to check on you and bringing you food, you’re not sure how well you would have fared. She’s been your biggest support throughout this whole thing. Every now and then, she tries to urge you to tell Neteyam the truth, but you stand firm in your decision not to. “You didn’t see how he looked at me, Kiri.” You would tell her feeling a fresh pang of tightening in your chest at the memory.

“Besides, he seems happy now with Layao. I don’t want to stand in the way of that.”

She would roll her eyes at you every time, but her empathy for you outweighed her grievance with your choice in handling the situation.

After a few months, your stomach finally started to grow a small bump. And as your belly grew, so did your determination to make the best life you could for you and your unborn child. But it seems that your protruding stomach also made it that much harder for Neteyam to even look your way. Nevertheless, hiding away in your home was no longer an option. You would visit the healing tent on a semi-regular basis so that Mo’at could track the progress of the baby. She said it’s going to be a little girl and your adoration for the little soon-to-be life swelled in your heart while your hands ran over your stomach.

You and Aykxo saw each other more, but it never went past casual catch ups. You were positive he had heard the talk about him being your secret mate and father to your baby, but he never brought the subject up with you for some reason. You both knew it wasn’t true so maybe there just was no reason to speak it out loud. However, if it were mentioned to him by anyone else, he would deny it. Despite his best efforts, though, people still speculated. About halfway through your pregnancy, Aykxo tragically lost his life during one of the raids held against the sky people. When the news reached the clan, many people gave you pitied looks and there were whispers of ‘that poor girl’ when he was laid to rest. Many people still believed Aykxo to be the father of your baby, but you always denied it. Not that it was anyone’s business as far as you were concerned. But after every denial, there would be the inevitable ‘well, who else could it be?’ and you would clam up. You couldn’t tell the truth and you didn’t want to put the spotlight on anyone else.

“You should have seen it, Kiri. I mean the way that she looked at me when all I asked was for her to pass me some damn fruit. Fruit! I’m so sick of everybody looking at me like some poor, defenseless, grieving mate that can’t hold it together.” You say readying your spear to strike at a fish in the pond.

Kiri sits next to you on the edge with her feet dangling into the water. “Well, you know, if you’re really that sick of it, you could always just—”

“Don’t. You already know that that’s not happening.”

She sighs deeply and shrugs her shoulders. Even though it made your heart heavy to have Neteyam avoiding you like a disease, you had gained a stronger bond with Kiri than you previously had and you were beyond grateful for all of her support and help. At least your child would have some type of relationship with his family.

As the months carried on, you had learned to make your peace with your situation and your decision. Hell, you had even started to consider actually taking a mate. That proved to be more difficult than you’d initially thought, though. Men were cautious about approaching you, to put it lightly. Some of them were good friends with Aykxo and felt bad about moving in on ‘his mate’. Some were put off by the fact that you were currently carrying a child that didn’t belong to them. Either way, the whole process was like pulling teeth.

But the peculiar thing that stood out to you was not your own failed attempts at taking a mate, but the fact that after all this time, Neteyam still had not had his ceremony with Layao. You were sure that Mo’at or Jake would have had them get on with it by now. It’s not that you were complaining, but you had to wonder what was the hold up? Kiri swears she doesn’t know. She says she has nothing to do with the extension on their postponement.

Regardless, it doesn’t concern you anymore. Your main focus is your baby that will arrive any day now. You’ve been spending the last week or so hunting and gathering and preparing for the birth. You’ve stocked up on plenty of ripe fruit, vegetables, smoked meats, herbs to help with your recovery, and freshly woven blankets that you made with Kiri’s help.

And now, you sit here at a pond listening to the gentle trickle of the water as it waves and moves with your swaying feet. The warm water on your aching joints was a welcome relief. Your feet had swollen, your belly was large and heavy, your breasts filled out and became sore. So, you often would come and soak whatever part of yourself was bothering you most that day. Your hand sits on top of your belly rubbing little swirls around the tahnì you can still see from this angle.

“Hello in there little one. I’m your sa’nu.” You coo lovingly at your stomach with a smile. You can feel little feet swing and kick inside of you in response. One particularly hard kick lands right below your navel and your hand instinctively holds the spot you were hit. “Oof, you are strong, just like your sempu…” Your expression is still warm, but there’s a hint of sadness there thinking about it.

“Your sempu is a mighty warrior” you chuckle a bit. “But he is also very kind and funny and handsome. He’s pretty smart most times, but he can also be a total skxawng.”

It feels like her tiny body somersaults inside when you mention her father and you can’t help but laugh a little to yourself. Sometimes, you wonder if she knows when you’re specifically talking about Neteyam. Maybe it’s the change in your heartbeat that she can feel when you talk about him. Or it could be the tensing of your gut when you see him around the village. Whatever the case may be, she always comes alive at the mention of her father.

Dinner should be happening right about now. You figure that it’s time for you to go head back.

“What do you say we go get you fed, little one?”

You stand to your feet and feel a pang of pain in your lower back. You probably shouldn’t have sat for as long as you did. You try to stretch and relieve some of the pressure, but to no avail. Just another ache to add to the list.

At dinner, Kiri and Lo’ak keep you company while Neteyam sits with Layao and his parents, no doubt discussing the coming ceremony.

“I don’t care what everyone else says, there’s no way you’d mate with someone as corny as Aykxo. I just don’t buy it.” Lo’ak says between bites of his food.

“You know, Lo’ak, that may be the smartest thing I’ve heard you say in a long time.” You tease and he shoots you an unamused look.

“I’m just saying, I don’t get why you’re being so hush hush about who it is. It’s not like it’s a big deal, but you won’t even give us a hint. You keep saying it’s not Aykxo, but you’re never with anyone else.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe it’s none of our business?” Kiri rolls her eyes at him.

“Of course not.” He replies very matter of fact.

Kiri waves him off and turns her attention to you, “Anyways, have you picked out a name yet?” Her eyes light up and her smile beams at you as she’s been impatiently awaiting the arrival of the new addition. “I have, but I’m waiting until she’s here.”

A sudden chill runs up your spine and you reflexively turn around to see what the cause is. You’re surprised to see Neteyam standing behind you looking like he was about to tap you, but he retracts his hand once you look at him.

“Hey, um, can we talk?” the awkward tension is palpable. Your eyes flick to Lo’ak and Kiri for some kind of help, but Lo’ak is too busy trying to avoid eye contact with you and Kiri is urging you with her eyes to go with him.

“Sure.”

You stand up with a heavy sigh and follow his lead away from the crowd. He doesn’t walk you that far away from everyone, but far enough that you can have some privacy. Your eyes study him while he shifts from one foot to the other and his hands clench repeatedly at his sides. The ache in your back is building in intensity, but you do your best to ignore it. This is the first time that Neteyam has actually acknowledged your existence since he found out about your pregnancy. No way you were going to let a little back pain interrupt this long-overdue conversation. 

“So, I hear from Kiri that you are due soon.” He starts.

“Yes, I am. Any day now.” Eywa, this couldn’t be any more uncomfortable if you tried.

“Well, that’s good news. I’m sure you will be an excellent mother.”

You almost feel like you could be sick from how formal he’s being with you right now. It physically makes your stomach hurt. Literally. There’s a tight squeezing in your stomach that’s growing. You still try to keep the conversation going anyways.

“Oh, uh, thank you…” Your hand holds your stomach right in the spot where the pain is the worst. You try to rub it and massage the feeling away, but it does nothing to alleviate the feeling.

“I guess I should also be offering my condolences…for what happened to Aykxo.”

Not this again.

“Neteyam, please don’t. Me and Aykxo nev—” your thought is interrupted by another stronger pain in your stomach. You double over clutching your belly waiting for it to pass, but it doesn’t. “Are you alright?” Neteyam’s voice finally has dropped its proper tone and is filled with concern. You can’t answer him as you groan through the pain and then that’s when you feel it. A gush of liquid rushes out from between your legs and to a small puddle on the ground at your feet. Your eyes go wide and look up at Neteyam who looks even more panicked.

“Oh, Great Mother…I think it is time!” 

“Oh, Eywa. We need to get you to my grandmother right now!” Neteyam tries to grab your hand and lead you back towards the clan, but the pain feels like it has already increased tenfold and you can barely move.

“Ahhh…I-I can’t, Teyam. It hurts t-too much.” You whine holding your stomach and nearly falling to your knees.

“O-okay, okay. Just…hold on to me.” He says bending down a little and guiding your arms to wrap around his neck. He picks you up bridal style and quickly regains his balance.

“Just hang on for a little longer. We’ve got to get you to the healing tent.”

All you can do is nod your head while you try to focus on your breathing and nestle yourself into his hold. He hurries back to the clan and rushes back over to where Kiri and Lo’ak are still sitting. Kiri momentarily lights up seeing Neteyam carrying you back, but her expression immediately falls into worry once she sees the expression on both of your faces.

“What happened?” she asks standing to her feet and meeting Neteyam halfway.

“It’s time for her to have the baby!”

“Eywa, okay, come bring her to the tent.” She leads him through the crowd and some people stare and whisper amongst themselves about the scene unfolding in front of them. Not like you can really notice right now when it’s all you can do just to breathe properly. The bouncing of Neteyam’s steps don’t help with the cramping feeling growing in your abdomen, but it’s a necessary evil to get you the help you need.

Once you finally arrive at the healing tent, Kiri instructs Neteyam to lay you down on one of the mats while she gathers supplies and locates Mo’at. Sweat beads on your forehead and your vision is losing focus. Neteyam brushes his fingers over your face hoping to offer you some sort of comfort in this moment until his grandmother can arrive.

“Teyam…” you breathe out.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. My grandmother is on her way.” He says feeling sick to his stomach at the fact that he feels so powerless in this moment.

“Teyam…’m sorry…”

“Shhh…now’s not the time. Just focus on getting through this.”

Kiri finally returns with Mo’at and they both waste no time springing into action around you. Mo’at places her hands on top of your stomach and closes her eyes listening for the message from Eywa.

“It is time, child. You will need to put forth all your strength.” She says looking down at you.

Kiri takes ahold of your hand and mutters words of encouragement to you.

Neteyam can’t help but feel a bit out of place here right now. He has no way to help and he feels more than a bit awkward watching the birth of someone else’s child so he drops your hand and silently backs out of the tent.

“Where are you going?” Kiri asks him sharply.

“W-well, it seems that the two of you have it under control. I don’t want to be in the way.” He says continuing out of the tent. “Neteyam!” Kiri calls out, but when you squeeze her hand, she knows that she needs to focus her attention on supporting you right now. “I swear to Eywa, I am going to kick his skxawng ass when this is over.” She mutters to herself.

A loud, guttural groan leaves your throat feeling another harsh contraction of your muscles rip through you.

Mo’at uses her fingertips and a dull bone dipped in oil to tap various points around your body. She says it’s to help prepare you and help your body do what it needs to.

“I can’t do this, Kiri. I ca—aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhh”, you barely even have the capacity to get a full sentence out without being interrupted by the impatient arrival of your baby.

“Yes, you can. I know it hurts, but right now you have to be strong for her. I’m going to be right here with you the whole time.” She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze when your grip on her tightens.

“It is time.” Mo’at speaks up in front of you. Outside the tent, Neteyam had actually stuck around. He couldn’t bring himself to stay inside and watch, but somehow it felt wrong for him to completely leave you too. So, he opted to lean himself against one of the support posts and wait. You know, for moral support. All he can hear from inside is groans and screams of pain while his grandmother and sister try to coach you through it. The pained howls that you make are unlike anything he’s ever heard and it makes that useless feeling settle in his gut again. There was a point in time where he would’ve done anything to be able to help take away some of your pain and a part of him will always feel that way for you, but he decided that that was no longer his place. More agonizing screams erupt from inside the tent and he prays to Eywa to help you through this. Hearing you like this made his heart hurt in a way that was different than anything else he’s encountered.

Just when he feels like he’s about to break, there’s a long silence. His ears swivel back and forth searching for a sound, any sound. Some kind of sign that everything was alright. And then, there it is…a cry. There are sighs of relief and muttered praises to you from Mo’at and Kiri about how well you did. Your baby’s first cries fill his ears and it practically brings Neteyam to his knees.

Inside, you cradle your newborn in your arms and an exhausted smile crosses your face looking down at her tiny, squishy features.

“She will calm once you make the bond.” Mo’at explains taking hold of your baby’s queue. Kiri helps bring your own to the front so that tsaheylu can be made and once the bright glowing tendrils meet, your baby is soothed immediately. When she calms down and looks up at you, you can’t help but notice the pattern of the stripes and tanhì on her head are identical to Neteyam’s and it brings tears to your eyes.

Through the bond, you can feel how she is trusting you and relying on you and you are sure that you’ve never loved like this before and nothing would ever compare to this. She is everything to you. The tears keep coming and you can’t distinguish if they’re happy tears or sad tears anymore.

Kiri places her hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you and when you look at her, she’s welling up with tears of her own.

“She looks just like her father.” You half whisper.

…

The recovery period was tough. Even the simple act of bringing your baby to the Tree of Souls so that she could make her first bond was a strenuous responsibility. Caring for an infant alone proved to be the hardest thing that you had ever done. If it weren’t for Kiri coming to visit you almost daily, you surely would’ve collapsed from exhaustion by now.

“Hello little Veyä. I’m your aunt Kiri. Oh, you are just so cute!” she would coo and cuddle her in her arms while you would take the chance to do your hair or bathe. It was a heartwarming scene to say the least.

Who you haven’t seen in the almost 2 weeks since your baby’s been born? Neteyam. Before, his avoidance was painful, but now it was just strange. It was as if he was a ghost. There one second and as soon as he’d catch even the smallest glimpse of you, he would be gone.

“What’s up with Neteyam these days?”

“He’s been brooding in his kelku for weeks now and he won’t talk to anyone about what’s bugging him.” Lo’ak says wiggling his finger at Veyä who’s tucked into your sling on your chest and letting her grab at him.

You hum out a response mindlessly rubbing your hand up and down your baby’s back.

“He’d better pull it together soon. Grandmother said that he and Layao are finally going to have their ceremony in a few days. Man, what I wouldn’t give to have a girl like that.” Your attention snaps back to Lo’ak who is still playing with Veyä.

“Oh, I see.” There it is again, that funny feeling. That familiar sinking sensation that makes it feel like your chest is going to concave in on itself. After so long, it almost seemed less likely to happen, but of course, the world is not so kind.

“Well, I should get going. I’ve got to get Veyä to Mo’at so she can make sure that she’s doing well.”

“Alright. I guess I should get back to training anyways. See ya around.” He says while you wave goodbye at him and head towards the healing tent. Veyä coos in your sling you quickly readjust her to make sure she’s secure. When you enter the tent, there’s no one there.

“Hello? Tsahìk? Kiri?” no response. That’s odd. You were almost sure that this was the time you agreed to come. Maybe there was some kind of last-minute emergency and they had to run out. Or maybe you were actually so sleep deprived and out of your head that you had gotten the timing wrong.

“Guess we have some time to kill. Let’s go have a snack while we wait for someone to get back. How does that sound, tìlor?” you gush at your little baby and rub your finger against her cheek making her crack a tiny smile.

“Hello? Grandmother? I need your help with—oh” when you turn around, you see Neteyam entering the tent holding his forearm, but he goes still when he realizes that you’re there.

“Hi. I think everyone is out right now.” You say sheepishly.

“Oh, um, I see. What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I was bringing Veyä to see Mo’at just to check on her progress.” He doesn’t offer much of a response besides a small nod of his head. Your eyes trail down to the trickles of blood on his arm. “What happened to you?”

He looks down at his arm, “Ah, training accident. I got distracted and got swiped.” He quickly lifts his hand from his arm to show you. He’s definitely downplaying it. There’s a long open gash up half the length of his arm.

“Eywa, that looks bad.” “It’s fine, really. I can just wait for Grandmother to get back.”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t just wait for that. Sit down. Let me help you.” His face falls a little in surprise, “Really, you don’t have to wor—” “Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, sit down and let me wrap your arm.” Your voice comes out stern and sure taking him aback. You’ve only ever used his full name once in your whole lives so he wasn’t used to hearing it from you. It makes the tip of his tail flick wildly behind him without his permission. With a sigh, he relents and takes a seat on the ground in front of you.

“I know that I’m no tsakarem, but I at least can do this much.” You say already grabbing the nearby bowl of yalnabark and some clean cloth. You crouch in front of him and pour water over the wound to clean it and dip your fingers into the yalnabark paste so that you can smooth it over his arm. You’re careful with your movements so as to not disturb Veyä too much. Your eyes watch your hands while you work, but Neteyam can only watch your face. He tries to not let his face get hot under your gentle touch and attentive gaze. He thinks about how much he misses when your eyes would look at him with what felt like love. How your cheeks would squish up when you smiled at him. How soft your lips were under the calloused tips of his fingers. Damn, how he wanted to touch you again. It was always a gut punch to see you from a distance which is why he tried his hardest to not see you. But looking at you now up close, he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

Neteyam is pulled from his musings by the small babbles of your baby in your sling. He’d been trying for the last 2 weeks to deny the reality of the situation, but right now, there was no running from the truth when it sat right there nestled snugly against your chest. His eyes fall to the small figure you carried and he feels as if his brain short circuits when she stares back at him.

Again, Neteyam is a smart man. He’s observant. And what he immediately notices looking at your baby? It’s like looking at his own reflection. He instantly recognizes the familiar shapes and patterns on her head. Yes, her features are more similar to yours such as her eyes or her lips, but there’s no mistaking the pattern of her tanhì or the stripes on her forehead that all curve and meet right between her eyes. It feels as if his whole chest seizes. There was no way. Was there?

You don’t notice the look Neteyam is giving you right now as you’re too busy ensuring that you wrap the cloth around his arm properly.

“Okay, that should do for now. At least, until your grandmother can properly take care of it. But that should hold you for the day.” You say tying the final knot. You’re met with silence and when you look at his face, Neteyam’s face is stuck with a dumbfounded expression. You stare back at him, “What?”

His mouth opens and closes waiting for words to come through, but none do and he instead sits there like a gaping fish.

“Alright. Well, I’d better get going. I need to find a snack and feed Veyä. I guess I’ll see you around.” You say finally standing and making your way out of the tent. Neteyam watches you completely dazed. He feels as if everything he’s known has just been flipped on its head.

…

At dinner, you sit with Kiri and Lo’ak as usual while chewing on some teylu and watching Kiri gush at Veyä in your sling. Her tiny tail thrashes around in excitement when Kiri tickles just under her chin and the sight makes your heart swell. Across the crowd, you spot Neteyam sitting with his parents and Layao as usual. But what was unusual was the way he kept staring at you completely lost to whatever other conversation was being held around him. He only offered fleeting glances and half-hearted responses to those around him while maintaining his focus on you. Normally, these days, he did all he could to avoid seeing you and now he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

“Any particular reason your brother keeps staring over here?” you ask both of them.

When Kiri and Lo’ak turn around, sure enough, they catch a glimpse of Neteyam’s searing focus before he can pretend to look away and act casual.

“No clue. He’s been weird all day.” Lo’ak remarks. “He was totally out of it at training. He got this really nasty looking gash on his arm when he was training one of the other warriors. He left himself wide open. I don’t know where his head is at these days.”

Veyä starts to fuss in your arms so you latch her onto your chest figuring she’s also ready to eat. You do your best to try and not dwell on the pair of eyes watching your every move through the rest of dinner.

By the time you’re done with your food, Veyä has fallen asleep and you say your goodbyes to Kiri and Lo’ak so that you can head back to your kelku and get some rest.

Neteyam’s focus still lingers on you even after you’ve disappeared from his sight, his mind follows behind you.

He manages to bring his attention back to the scene around him enough to notice that Layao has finished eating. He figures that if there were ever an opportunity to do this, it was now or never. He leans over and whispers to Layao, “Can we go talk somewhere?”

She nods at him and they excuse themselves from the group.

They walk in silence together to Neteyam’s kelku and the quiet is thick and heavy between them. His gut feels sick, but he knows that this is for the best. When they get inside, he pulls the flap over the opening and secures it to give them some privacy.

Layao watches Neteyam curiously while he paces a bit trying to find the best starting point. He turns to her and swallows hard. “Layao, you are a wonderful person and any man in the clan would be lucky to have you, but I don’t think that I can go through with this arrangement. I care about you a lot, but I’m in love with someone else.” He finally admits. He waits to watch her reaction and tries to prepare his heart for the stream of tears and sobs that are sure to leave her at any moment…and yet, they never come. She blinks at him a couple of times while processing the information and then, to his complete shock, she sighs in relief.

“Oh, thank Eywa.” She says letting go of a big breath.

Now, it’s Neteyam’s turn to blink at her in confusion. Layao notices the bewildered expression on his face and takes a couple of steps closer to him. “Look, Neteyam, you are a great guy. You’re handsome and strong and loyal and kind, but I’m not in love with you either. I was going along with the arrangement because everyone said it was what was best for the clan. I was leaning in to try and make the best of the situation for both of us and I was scared to be the one to call it off.” She explains.

His mouth hangs open with this new revelation. “Wait, so you don’t want to mate with me?”

She laughs a little to herself, “Not particularly. No offense Mr. Mighty Warrior, but I just don’t see you that way. If I’m being perfectly honest, I’m actually interested in Lo’ak.”

Now, Neteyam is the one laughing. All this time, it could have been so simple.

“I can see why you love her.” She says interrupting his train of thought before it can even really begin.

“How did you know?” She rolls her eyes at him, “Neteyam, I have 2 eyes that work. It is as obvious as the stripes on my face that you are madly in love with her. I’ve always seen the way you are around her. She’s always had your heart. And I can understand why.” She takes his hand in hers tenderly. “It was fun for a while, but I think it’s time for both of us to stop playing pretend and do what’s best for us.”

Neteyam covers her hand with his other and smiles at her. “Thank you.”

“Now, go find her. And don’t screw it up.” She says playfully shoving him out of the kelku.

“I owe you one. I promise, I’ll get you in with Lo’ak. It shouldn’t be too hard since he’s kind of already into you.” He says turning on his heels and eagerly heading towards your home.

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[dispatchvampire]

Accidentally In Love (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 2200-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 1

Five miles at a time. Everything in the early morning hours was measured five miles at a time for Echo Nerys and her trusty mountain bike. From 6:30 to 8AM give or take, she was a glittery purple streak on a circuit through Central Park from end to end that she’d measured precisely both for distance and scenic value. The moment she left her job at NYPD Central Dispatch at 6AM, she was changed and on the bike, ready to go. She even had an appropriately timed playlist on Spotify. 

She’d started as early in the spring as the weather allowed for, in her long compression pants and jacket, getting her face chapped as she and her body remembered what it felt like to be on two wheels and free. A figure in all black in the early hours of the morning fast enough to pedal past the majority of the criminal element and yet still taking hits off her asthma bong when she paused to get drinks from her backpack. 

Now, though, with the summer slowly stretching out down the coast, she’d tied up her puff pigtails and ditched her all black for the wildly purple tie-dyed bike shorts, sports bra, and tank top, all matching, because why not and her favorite pair of sunglasses that made her look like a trained killer. Even her earbuds were purple. There were some who said she didn’t really have the body for the tightly clinging gear, but fuck those people, she was going to be comfortable and safe while she worked out and they didn’t have to look if it offended them. Her body, not-toned stomach, thick thighs and semi-floppy arms, was her own and had been through many of its own wars, and she could wear what made her happy. 

She’d picked up riding the previous summer and had taken it inside for the duration of the winter, riding in the basement gym of 1PP, but she didn’t have a whole lot to show for it physically other than shaplier calves and slightly thinner thighs. She wasn’t in it for the way she looked, but how good it felt to finally move after being sick and stuck with her joint pain for so long. Now that her meds were mostly managed, she was hell on two wheels, six days a week if she could manage, five if she wanted to go easy on it, and it felt amazing.  

On her pace, she saw herself coming up on a group of joggers just cresting the hill, the tallest among them, a hottie from the Homicide Squad, Donnie Flack. All black-haired, blue-eyed Irish, he was every dispatcher’s crush and untouchable as a museum piece because of his wife in the Coroner’s Office. No one wanted to test a forensic scientist’s ability to exact revenge. It was just poor planning. And he was such a sweetheart, it was impossible not to be his friend. 

“On ya left!” she hollered out as she approached the group, powering up the hill despite the way her knees screamed and her thighs burned. It was the principle of the thing, really, as she stood on her pedals and waved as she sailed past them with a jaunty grin. Now that she’d caught up to them, she saw it was a couple other guys from Homicide and one of the guys from down in Trace Evidence. 

“Lookin’ good, E!” Danny Messer, Flack’s whip-thin, mouthy bestie from Crime Scene Investigations, hollered back with a huge grin and a wave as Donnie stuck his fingers in his mouth and wolf-whistled. Messer was good people, and his wife was a doll. Echo lived in their building a couple floors down and had babysat their kids more than a couple times. 

Once she was out of sight, she concentrated on her speed according to the handlebar speedometer and focused on her Beastie Boys as she took the path around the edge of the Jackie O Reservoir. It was so beautiful, with duck families out in force, moms with their collections of babies trailing behind. The water made the air feel a bit cooler as the wind rushed over her skin as she progressed toward the Butterfly Garden. 

Next up on her list of gorgeous sights was the two guys in front of her that she’d dubbed Hotness 1 and Hotness 2. She passed them a few times on her rides, most mornings. Hotness 1 was tall like Donnie, but broader, with muscles upon muscles. He looked like an escapee from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, if Galatea had been 6’3” and blonde with cornflower blue eyes and an ass that would have reduced Michaelangelo to abject weeping. 

Hotness 2 wasn’t any easier on the libido, with his blue-grey peepers and long dark hair he kept in a bun at his neck to go with his panty-melting smile and muscles. His bangs broke free of their confinement framing his face as they drifted over his model-perfect cheekbones and brushed against his sharp jawline. Not that she’d been ogling. Much. 

Alone, they were the kind of flawless that caused traffic jams. Both of them together was an obscenity charge waiting to happen in their running shorts and sinfully well-fitting t-shirts, and more than one jogger—both male and female—had pulled up lame, run into a tree, or tripped over their own feet watching them go by.  

“On ya left!” she called as she approached them, smiling as they waved when she flew by. If she happened to be standing on the pedals and sticking her ass out a bit more than was strictly necessary, well, could anyone blame her? Really? Besides, their smiles and waves of acknowledgement were totally worth it.  

Just past The Loch was the Glen Span Arch, which always felt like a fairy garden to Echo. A stone bridge over the asphalt path with the stream running next to it and abundant trees, it was easy to imagine falling into a rabbit hole like Alice diving into Wonderland and never coming back. With the sun dappling through the leaves, it was here she felt like she was the only person in the world and life was perfect. 

At least it was, until a grizzly bear in a blue shirt and black shorts descended into her path from down the hill. Echo hit the brakes so hard the back tire came up off the path and ditched out on the bike to keep from hitting him. She went one way and flung the bike the other, doing her best to guard her face and head from what would likely be a hard hit.

“Fuckshit!” 

It was over in a second, she was in the creek, soaked to the bone on some very hard and unforgiving rocks that were currently poking into her ribs and hip, with no idea where her bike was. Or her sunglasses. Or phone. Taking inventory from toes upward, she was happy to report that for the most part, she’d likely sustained bruises but otherwise, she’d live. At least, until she tried to push herself up and her hand slipped on the wet rocks, sending her face first into the flowing water. 

“Ah Christ! Hold on!” a deep, unfamiliar male voice hissed as he hooked his hands under her arms and bodily lifted her from the stream. Literally picked her up like a discarded toy, and like she weighed just as little, cradling her to his surprisingly firm and muscular chest. “I got you, sweetheart.” If she wasn’t so busy reeling from the hit and sputtering from the water coming out of her sinuses, his warm, rumbling voice as he brushed his lips over her temple would have definitely done the job. “I gotchu, darlin’. Are you okay?”

“I think so?” Echo took a second to compose herself after he set her on her feet with his arm protectively around her waist, scrubbing a hand down her face to deal with the water and unfortunately blood coming from sore spots on the bridge of her nose and her chin. When she looked up from her bloody hand, she wondered exactly how hard she’d been hit in the head, because in front of her was the concerned face of the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, looking her over like she was the most delicate bone china and he’d just yeeted it off the dining room table. He cupped her jaw in his hand, thumb gently brushing over her cheekbone, it was familiar and more than a little terrifying. Who the hell was this guy and why the hell was he touching her? 

At her tiny, horrified squeak, his blue eyes widened, looking over his shoulder at his friend, Hotness 2, who had a cell phone pressed to his ear. “This is your fault, ya jerk. You plannin’ on helpin’ or what?” 

The grey-eyed Adonis with the long dark hair held up a strangely metal-looking finger and spoke tersely into the phone before hanging up and coming over to them with a disgruntled look on his face for his friend. “Medics inbound. Settle down, Stevie.” The moment those steel-blue eyes turned on her, though, it could have been the sole cause of global warming because damn, if she didn’t melt a little on the spot from their tenderness. “I am so sorry, dollface. I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” 

When he reached for her face to examine her bloody chin, she recoiled out of reflex, not fear, but unfortunately that was the moment that everything went to shit for the second time in ten minutes. 

“NYPD! Step away from her!” Flack had his gun out and his badge around his neck, with Danny doing the same as he cautiously approached her with the rest of the heavily armed, sweaty contingent. Apparently Tall, Dark, and Yummy wasn’t moving fast enough because then Donnie barked, “Now, asshole! Move away from her or I’ll shoot.” 

Both hands up and out to the side, 2 stepped back, eyes never leaving the gun trained on him. “You don’t wanna do this, pal.” He seemed amusingly calm, which made about as much sense to her as any of the rest of this, which was none at all. Blondie slowly straightened up further but kept an arm around her waist to hold her up.

The very fact that the man spoke seemed to incense her friend further. “You think I give a fuck about your opinion?” 

“Hey, that’s not necessary…” The man standing with her gave her a reassuring squeeze before stepping over to stand with his friend. 

With them occupied, Danny crept up next to her and moved her off to the side, surrounded by the rest of the guys from Homicide and Evidence. “She’s secure, Flack.” 

“Good.” The detective nodded before turning his attention back to his quarry. “Now what the fuck were you doing feeling up an injured woman? You get off on that?”

Hotness 1 was all calmly defiant righteousness, standing shoulder to shoulder with his buddy. “We called a medic for her, they should be here in a couple minutes. We weren’t looking and didn’t see her on the path until it was too late.” 

“This true, Echo?” Danny asked softly as he gently seated her on a nearby boulder and seemed to be checking her over for more injuries than just her face and her pride.

She went to nod but that rattled her head too much. “Yeah, Messer. I guess. It was just a regular crash. My fault as much as theirs, really. No real harm done.” 

Frowning ferociously, Flack clearly was not content with her answer. “IDs, I want ‘em. Now.” 

Blondie nodded slowly, alarmingly unperturbed about having a .40 caliber pistol pointed at his face. “Front right pocket. You wanna get it or should I?”

“Don’t get us shot, Stevie,” the longhaired man admonished his friend. From his long-suffering expression, this was apparently not the first time this type of thing had happened to either of them. 

Rolling his eyes, Flack held out his hand. “Alright, smartass, wallets now.”

While the Homicide Hottie (as they called him in Dispatch) held court with her two new acquaintances, the ambulance rolled up and the medics  began cleaning her wounds and checking her over as her worried neighbor stood guard over her. The last thing she wanted or needed was stitches and additional facial scars, but it looked like she might not get a choice in the matter. 

“Messer! Get over here!” The note of concern in the detective’s voice had her looking over immediately, only to find all the guns put away and all their postures seemed substantially less aggressive, though no less agitated. 

“Ma’am, could you hold still please?” The female medic with the gentle hands turned her face so she could clean the wounds better. 

She didn’t know if it was the movement or what, but all of a sudden, she was going down, hard. The last thing she remembered was the ground rushing up to meet her. Again.

[ashimetsu]

Trey's Party 【Reader x Trey Clover】 -chapter 2

: ̗̀➛ After setting up the real birthday party, Trey takes you to the balcony for a special surprise : ̗̀➛ warnings: smut, edging, semi-public sex, walking in on you, no protection, fem/afab reader : ̗̀➛ 2.7k words : ̗̀➛ [a/n]: after fighting for my life i finally finished this chapter!! aksduhfaisudf This Is For All My Trey Lovers Out There... enjoy!!!! gonna work on requests and drabbles for a bit now. : ̗̀➛ chapter 1, (chapter 2), chapter 3

"Not too shabby for a kitchen birthday party, right, Prefect?"

You and Trey admire each other's work of setting up his birthday party. As a "punishment" for making up a wild excuse about Trey's surprise party, the rest of the Heartslabyul gang let both of you finish decorating with the supplies Trey carried back for you. Although not as put together as Cater's color-coordinated streamers, it is neater than Ace's… creative liberty with the balloon placement. At the end of the day, it's a presentable party fit for Trey's easygoing nature.

"Good work you two," Riddle starts as he looks around the colorful kitchen, "I'll call the rest of the dorm here to get things started."

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding. Although you've known Riddle for some time now, he still makes you nervous after the whole "off with your head" incident. He's mellowed out, but still carries a strong sense of authority to his dorm members. This party was a test of his new, laid-back personality, letting everyone decorate as they please, rather than following the Queen's strict rules. Hence, forming a more teenager-friendly social rather than a formal banquet for a birthday party. You've caught Riddle tense up a few times, ready to scold the party planners for violating countless rules, but he's done well on holding back. Tomorrow, things will go back to normal, but tonight is free game.

As other Heartslabyul students filter into the kitchen to celebrate, everyone fills their plates with various treats. Cater was tasked with leading the baking, and with some help from the Science Club members, the treats turned out edible. It's truly the downfall of a surprise party for the guy who's a wizard in the kitchen. As per tradition, you all sing happy birthday to Trey, who almost looks embarrassed to be there. The crowd dissipates to the rest of the dorm, to the kitchen, lounge, foyer, and hallways. You find yourself nestled in one of the couches of the lounge, wrapped in a blanket and sipping on some fruit punch. After the rain shower, you were still feeling chilled.

"Comfortable?" a familiar voice snaps you out of your trance.

After today's encounters, you feel a bit more normal around Trey. He still makes your heart flutter, but you can push down your stammering voice to talk to him. Are these feelings? No no, he's just your upperclassmen. Everyone feels flustered around their elders, right?

"Mm," you mumble as you place your empty punch cup on the end table. "The extra sizes are helpful."

You've been trying to ignore the fact that everything feels and smells like Trey. After all, he gave you his clothes to wear as backup, since yours was drenched in rain water. A giant black t-shirt with the name of his middle school on the front and huge sweatpants bunched at your ankles dress your relatively small frame. You probably look ridiculous, but you can't bring yourself to care because they're Trey's clothes. When will you ever get this opportunity again?

"It looks like it," he flashes a grin at you, meanwhile you can practically see the light bulb appear above his head. "Say, I'm tuckered out from all this partying. Care to join me for some fresh air?"

You look out the window, the sun is nearly setting and the overcast has cleared. It doesn't look rainy out anymore, so maybe a step outside wouldn't be so bad. Especially with Trey; and close proximity to cover if it were to suddenly rain again. It seems that going along with Trey's plans is both a pro and a con with that mischievous look on his face.

"It would be wrong to deny the birthday boy, right?" You crawl out of your blanket and swim through the layer of clothes to find proper footing to stand up. Maybe this would be a good time to give Trey his birthday gift.

"Oh first, let me grab something for you, Trey," you say before walking to one of the closets where you planted your gift earlier in the week.

After grabbing the small box, you follow him as he leads you to a large heart-shaped door. He turns his head towards you and reaches for your hand before opening it.

"You might want to hold on. It's a bit of a maze to get there."

Hesitantly, you take his hand. It's much warmer than yours and slightly calloused, creating friction between your skin. He turns before your face has the chance to bloom into a lovely shade of red. He opens the door and leads you through a labyrinth of twists and turns in the hallway. You've never been this deep into Heartslabyul and it's disorientating your sense of direction. Without Trey acting as your guide, you would have certainly gotten lost. With only a few lamps illuminating the maze, it's hard to tell what your surroundings look like. Trey confidently makes his way through, exhibiting his experience as a third year.

Finally, you both find yourselves in a long corridor with wall-length windows extending your right side. On your left, elaborate checkered wallpaper coats the walls, dotted occasionally with dark lamps. Dark cherry wood-floors run under your feet, tying the Heartslabyul aesthetic together. The hallway is dark, illuminated only by the setting sun through the windows. Trey is leading you, pulling your arm ahead of your body. The sun glows over his arms, outlining the individual muscles of his built figure. You take this moment to just admire the tall man in front of you. Even his back is perfectly framed by the light outside.

Trey stops abruptly in front of another heart-shaped door, nearly identical to the one you saw earlier. He looks behind him, as if to make sure you were still there, holding onto his hand. He gives you a quick squeeze, which makes your heart do somersaults, and pushes the door open.

Sun floods the hallway, highlighting both of your faces in a warm glow as a small balcony lies before you, looking over the gardens. You move next to Trey and peer at him. He's gazing over the hedges, unaware of how relaxed he appears. You've never seen this expression of near bliss on his face before, and with the incredible lighting, he looks even more ethereal.

"Maybe you should take a picture if you like looking at me so much, Prefect."

"It's not that, I was just- you had something on your face, that's all." You reach up and wipe an imaginary crumb off his cheek with your hand carrying the present.

"Here, take this," you say as you shove the neatly-wrapped present into his arm. You release his hand and walk to the edge, resting your arms on the railing. So much for fresh air, it's suffocating being in such a sly man's presence.

You hear sounds of unwrapping and light footsteps approaching behind you. You didn't need to look to sense his eyes on the side of your face, waiting for something to happen.

"You could start getting a little more creative with your gifts, you know," he starts, rotating the gifted, red rubber spatula in his deft hands. "I think I have about a million of these."

"It's the thought that counts, isn't it? I'll take it back if you're gonna be rude about it." You shoot a glare in his direction, but you're met with a smirk instead. He leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear, reminding you of his antics from earlier today.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but maybe a better gift would be something from you personally, something I have to claim myself," Trey whispers in your ear, suddenly closing the gap between you two. He's got an arm wrapped around your waist now, squeezing your side and making you painfully aware of his presence. You let out a breath as tensions rise.

"You're gonna have to show me what you mean, Trey," you respond quietly, leaning slightly into his warm touch. His mouth is still gravitating around your earlobe, preparing for touchdown at any moment. His lips orbit above as he shifts his body behind you, pressing his hips against you, telling you exactly what he wants. Fingers dance over the sweatpants he lent you, teasing under the elastic and resting on the plain of your hips. His gentle voice lassos you back before you drift off to an undiscovered universe.

"Is this showing you enough?" he mumbles, rubbing small circles into your hips, imprinting his touch on your body. You hum back, enjoying the small touches left on your body.

"I can stop if you'd like," he says, pausing his movements. Trey's not the one to impose on others, even if the way he's been acting has been more forward than usual.

"Don't," you breathe, "this is perfect."

His chest contracts as he sucks in a quick breath, deciding his next course of action. A cool breeze contrasting Trey's warmth forms an aura of intimacy you didn't notice before. A sense of solitude covers you both like a warm blanket, distant chattering fading out as firm hands travel past the waistband and around your ass. One hand made its home there, massaging and squeezing while the other snakes to your front, fingers teasing the wet crevice between your legs. Enough taunting from your upperclassman has left you more aroused than you intended. His smooth seduction has gotten you right where he wants you: vulnerable and trapped in his snare. A finger circles your heat, pressing hard against your labia, not quite entering you. A small moan escapes your lips, egging Trey further. You push harder onto him, giving him better leverage to finger you. His finger digs deeper, beyond what you could reach with your hand. You begin to wonder what more would feel like, another finger? Massaging your clit? The nagging boner? The more you entertain the thought, the more pliant you become. Without realizing it, your legs have spread and you've given Trey the perfect angle to finger you down to the knuckle, which he gladly does. Bliss blooms in your core as he continues to rhythmically pump pure ecstasy throughout your being. Lost in Trey's grip, you hardly notice a stretch as another finger is added. Your moan is answered by a soft kiss to your hairline, pulling you into Trey's embrace further. Pain and pleasure mix as a calloused thumb swipes your clit, sending a spasm through your body. The added sensations multiply the heat filling your lower regions, nearly pushing you over the edge.

"T-trey, I'm gonna-"

You're cut off as a void occupies the space where appendages once were. A hiss escapes your lips, aching for sensation that was taken too soon. Before you could whine, Trey gets back to work, manipulating your sweatpants and panties with his forearm, cool air fanning your skin. Although exposed, you feel hot, surrounded by Trey while embarrassed as he caresses your body.

"Bend over and give me some birthday cake, please," Trey rasps in your ear, his impatience obvious in his tone and hardness pressed against your backside. Obliging, you press back into him, giving the green light. No time to think when the right moment you've both been waiting for has presented itself.

"Good girl."

Electricity jolts through your body at his praise. With a voice like caramel, you were weak to his demands and a sucker for his worship. Trey's hands leave your body for a moment, the sounds of zipping filling the space between you. He returns, rubbing your hips and kissing your temple as an apology. His firm hands smooth over your soft skin, gripping and spreading your behind. He slides along your wetness, prodding your entrance. You respond by trying to push him in yourself, but his hands resist, nudging your hips away. Teasing is Trey's specialty; he's not going to give you want you want so easily.

"Eager aren't you? Don't forget this is my present, Prefect."

"And I'm gonna take it back if you don't hurry up."

Trey mouths your ear, his hot breath turning you on further. "I'm sure you will."

You won't.

Trey rests himself between your legs, edging you on as he plants wet kisses along your neck, careful to not leave any tracks, lest the housewarden finds out. The sensation of Trey's kisses and edging build in your core, making it difficult to keep your thoughts in order. Before you even realize, soft moans are slipping out, encouraging Trey's entertainment. Apparently unable to resist any longer, he begins pushing himself in, tip pressing through your entrance. Soft moans evolve to a yelp, finally hooked on accepting his cock.

Slowly, Trey pushes this rest of himself in you, hilt pressed firmly against your ass. Your sighs play like keys on a piano to his ears. His hands travel under your shirt, cupping your breasts and squeezing, totally engulfing your body. Soft bites prod at exposed skin at your shoulder, presumably from when Trey was giving your neck the attention you oh-so desired. He's distracting you from the sting of his length inside you, giving time for both of you to adjust. Warm breaths tickle your skin as he pauses from assaulting your neck, thumbing the skin around your nipple, assuring there's always stimulation. You both could stay in this position forever, locked together and embraced in eachother's warmth.

"I'm ready."

Trey wastes no time, pulling and plunging back in again. He works slowly, making sure you're comfortable while keeping the rest of your body busy. While pumping in and out, his hands move back to your hips, securing you with a grip strong enough to leave bruises. Soft grunts blend in with your moans, creating a symphony of pleasure over the rose gardens. The sly facade from earlier has faded as Trey chases his own pleasure, pounding harder and pushing you closer to the edge. Moans shift to incomprehensible babbles as you lose yourself in his attacks, filling you with bliss.

"Mmng, Trey I'm-!"

"Trey, are you up here?"

Trey's hips still instantly as light floods the balcony. The voice looking for Trey sounded awfully familiar, but you weren't keen on trying to find out who it was that just walked in on your moment with Trey. This is going to be his problem to deal with.

"Heh, hey Deuce. Need something?" Trey laughs awkwardly, turning only his head to face the intruder and shielding you both from Deuce's gaze. You pray his dense nature is on your side.

"Oh, I didn't see Prefect up here either. My bad, it's not that important," he begins innocently, "if you two want some alone time, I can chat later."

"Sure, I'll catch up with you later, Deuce"

He walks out, leaving you two alone again.

"…did he not notice what we're doing?"

"You know he's always been a little oblivious to these things." Trey chuckles softly before continuing. "We'll be done quick, won't we Prefect?" He squeezes your hips and ruts himself into you, reminding you of his twitching cock impatiently waiting for you.

You tighten around him, pulling Trey in and forming resistance around his length as he resumes his pace. It seems that Deuce walking in didn't diminish his eagerness, noted by how he didn't soften. In fact, he seems even more energized; did being discovered turn him on more? You didn't have a chance to explore that thought as pleasure rings through your body, incoherent moans spilling from your lips.

"Mm, I'm close," a grunt softly enters your ear as his tempo picks up, ravaging your body.

"A little longer, Trey, I'm not-" you're cut off as he thrusts particularly strongly, ripping a moan from your lips. The whole situation with Deuce really put you on edge, but Trey's fervor was bringing you back. It wasn't enough, yet too much at the same time. His thrusts came faster and faster, leaving you no time to react. Moans turned incoherent as he plunges sharply, filling you up with warmth to your core. Pumping slowly to release all of himself into you, Trey shushes you softly while kissing your temple. You try to move, get some friction to give yourself release.

"Trey, I didn't-"

"I know," he whispers, sending chills down your spine, "we'll finish this later, okay?"

You whine as he slowly pulls out, some of himself dripping down your leg in the process. Swiping his thumb over a streak on your thigh, he gently opens your mouth and inserts his thumb. You taste his saltiness, sucking like a child on their own thumb. You nod, a word barely above a whisper escaping your lips.

"Okay."

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You have a cozy night in with Jake and his amazing cooking skills. When you start to feel vulnerable you change the mood in an enjoyable way.

Masterlist

Chapter 8

Chapter 9: Nonna's Special Sauce

Thankfully your morning meeting ends on schedule and you're leaving Bakersfield by 1 pm. Which puts you squarely in rush hour traffic when you get back to San Diego. You finally pull up to your house at 6 pm. There is not another car parked in front of your house and think that maybe Jake parked in the alley in the back to have easier access to the backyard. When you unlock your door you step into the cozy aroma of home cooking. Jake is happily in the kitchen, one of your aprons covering his khaki uniform, and is singing along to the Eagles on your sound system. He presents such a cozy picture of a domestic life. You can feel a pang in your heart with that familiar sense of dread and fear of an impossible relationship and its end like the death of a star. A brief flash and then nothing. You take a deep breath and push the feeling away and let yourself just enjoy this moment for what it is.

He heard you the moment you unlocked the door, his freakish senses and reflexes on display. He turns just as you say,

"Honey, I'm home," in sing-song voice.

That panty dropper smile spreads across his face and he instantly closes the distance across the kitchen and living room and scoops you up in his arms and draws you into a deep kiss.

"It's good to see you,"

you say when you can get your lips far enough away enough to talk.

"Ditto,"

he smirks. He's still holding you in the air. His face is conflicted as he does the mental math on whether to drag you to the bedroom or sit down to eat the meal simmering on the stove. Your growling stomach makes the decision for him.

"We need to get you fed, you're going to need some energy for later,"

he says, staring into your eyes as he leans in for another kiss. He gently sets you down and moves back to the kitchen to plate the pasta Bolognese.

"Let me change out of these work clothes, I'll be back in a second," you head to your room and pull off your sensible black work shoes, dress pants, and blouse along with your bra, dropping it all in the dirty clothes hamper. You grab a simple purple t-shirt dress and throw it on. It feels so cool and breezy after having been in work clothes and the car for hours. You walk back over to the kitchen table and see that Jake has set the table with the pasta Bolognese, a fresh salad, and a small loaf of garlic bread. A bottle of Merlot is opened on the table and two glasses are poured. The music has changed over to Fleetwood Mac Jake has waited for you and sits down when you do. He hands you a wine glass and takes the other in his hand, you clink glasses with him and say cheers.

"This looks great," you take a bite and immediately add, "And it tastes great."

Jake blushes,

"It's my nonna's recipe."

"Your mom's side? Seresin doesn't sound overly Italian."

He nods yes as his mouth is full with the wonderful food.

We eat in companionable silence savoring the food, the wine, and the music. You slowly rub his shin with your while you eat.

"Good God, you can cook. Didn't expect that from you. Figured you'd have the cooking skills of your average bachelor, which is usually none," you gush, pushing away the plate.

Jake laughs, those laugh lines appearing for the briefest second. "I've got a lot of skills, you haven't discovered yet."

He lets the last sentence drop with a sly wink as he moves to clear away the plates. You help him clear away the rest of the table and as you walk into the kitchen you're surprised at how spotless it is for having had a full meal made in it. The man is precision personified, of course he'd be detail oriented and organized at everything he does. There's really nothing left to do except put the leftovers away and the remaining dishes in the dishwasher. Those tasks completed, you grab the bottle of wine and glasses and lead him to the living room by his hand. Sated and a little lethargic from the meal you sit on the couch and motion for him to join you on the sofa. You put your wine glass on the coffee table and his glass joins yours. He sits down on the couch and slings his arm over your shoulders and you curl into his side, your legs tucked up on the couch. His free hand ends up on your ankle.

"So, who taught you to cook like that? you ask.

"My mom and my nonna. My mom was insistent that we learn to cook, considered a necessary life skill, plus I think she did it to increase the likelihood of her two boys catching a woman and giving her some grandbabies," he answers, his eyes widen a little as he realizes what he has implied with that last part of his thought. You let it pass without remark.

"Smart woman, I had so many college roommates who couldn't cook worth a damn and I was always surprised that their parents would let them out into the world like that."

"You make it sound like they were releasing them onto the African Savannah to be eaten by lions, not live on ramen in crappy off campus apartments."

You laugh,

"Fair, what other talents do you have that I don't know about?"

"A lot, some of them are classified. I can sew, basic stuff, more than a button, but I can take care of most of my uniform needs. Some you're just going to have to find out on your own."

The thought of his other talents in the bedroom makes you blush. He sees the crimson creep down your neck and he looks pleased with himself. The hand that has been on your ankle stills and starts to trace the outline of a scar.

"Where did this bad boy come from?"

"Fractured my ankle when I was 15 in a gymnastics meet. Broke in two places landing a vault."

"Ouch, seems to have healed up well, doesn't seem to keep you from doing anything you want."

"Hah, tell that to my parents. I was ranked high enough in the country that I was considered a shoe-in for the Olympic team, the trials were three weeks after that so I couldn't compete and didn't make the team. My parents were devastated, I almost think more than I was. Suddenly, this vast weight and predetermined path was gone for me."

"I've always wanted to be a fighter pilot from the first time I saw a plane in the air. I can't imagine that dream being ripped away from me right when things were coming together."

"I think the Olympics were my parents' dream more than mine. I did gymnastics because I loved it, pulling off the impossible, having all this strength hidden in a tiny package, and it was the closest thing to flying you can get on the ground. Not for the glory or recognition. It allowed me to choose my own path, go to Notre Dame, so it worked out in the end.”

You're feeling oddly vulnerable and exposed, so you move to change the mood. You pull Jake’s head down to yours for a kiss. Keeping contact with his lips you briefly shift and sit in his lap, your legs straddling his firm thighs. His hands come around and grab your ass, kneading at them through the dress. You start working on his uniform buttons, a little disappointed he's wearing an undershirt. Finally you get each button undone and push the khaki shirt off his broad shoulders. You pull the white undershirt out from his swoon worthy chest. In the daylight of your living room you can see the light dusting of chest hair. You dip your head down and place gentle kisses on his chest, his chest hair tickling your face. Working your way over to his right nipple you gently lick it to gauge his reaction. A light moan escapes his mouth, you increase the pressure by catching it between your lips stretched over your teeth. The moan is only a little bit louder, you retreat your lips and nibble harder with your teeth. The sound he makes is bliss, you want him to make the sound again and again. You kiss your way over to his other nipple and give it the same treatment and his hips buck under you pressing his growing bulge against your quickly heating core. Jake's hands have bunched up your dress around your hips and he is stroking the long planes of your thighs. His hands start a journey up your body, skimming your sides and ending up tangled in your hair. He pulls you down towards him for a long and bruising kiss. Jake's hands slide down your back and back down to cup your ass, where he is kneading the soft flesh. You make a mental note that Jake might be an ass man and file it away for future reference.

Your body is feeling overheated and you take your dress off in one motion over your head and let it drop behind you. Immediately Jake is on your breasts with his mouth and tongue. He mimics your previous gestures with his teeth and a gentle nibble to each nipple. You've started rocking against him involuntarily.

Jake leans up and catches your lips again in a kiss, tongues sliding against each other's as the kiss deepens and hears up. Reluctantly you break the kiss and give his shoulder a gentle push so he is laying back against the couch pillows.

The scene of him bare chested, marks on his chest from your ministrations, and his cock hard and tenting his pants does things to you. It is undeniably one of the sexiest things you've ever seen. Somewhere in your ogling him he catches you by surprise and stands up, bringing you with him. He supports you by cupping your ass and splaying one large hand across your back. You are quickly deposited on the couch on your knees ready for him to fuck you from behind.

Jake is skimming the soft skin of your ass, eventually he hooks two fingers into the side of your thong and pulls it slowly down your legs. He's kneeling on the floor when he's done and takes the opportunity to kiss your ass right before he playfully nips at the cheek.

"Condom?" you ask, impressed you have enough unoccupied brain cells to put together a cohesive thought.

Jake has stood up and is still massaging your ass when he replies,

"Yeah, I've got one in my wallet."

There is the noise of quick fumbling with his belt and a zipper and then a definite thud as his pants hit the floor weighted by his wallet and phone in the pockets. A crinkling sound follows as Jake opens up the condom and rolls it down his cock. You have already leaned down and arched your back to present your ass and are shifting your thighs together trying to soothe the ache of arousal in your core. You've placed your hands on the back of the sofa for support. You know he has the condom on and your impatience starts to build. He is taking longer than you want and you whine with need,

"Jake, please now." He chuckles and runs his finger down your spine from your neck around the cheek of ass and straight into your waiting pussy. You've turned around to see what is taking so long and moan embarrassingly loud when his finger dips into your wetness.

He chuckles lightly,

"Someone's ready."

You turn around to deliver a snarky response and all speech stops working on your brain as Jake is making direct eye contact with you as he licks his finger clean.

Finally he takes pity on you and he slowly drags his cock across your pussy lips, on your clit, everywhere but inside me.

"Jake, I beg of you, please fuck me." There is something about the word beg that unleashes him. He plunges into your pussy and bottoms out in one swift motion. The movement punches out an anguished sob of a moan. The initial stretch is exquisite and he briefly stops to let you revel in it before he starts to quicken his pace. One of his hands is anchored to your hip and the other has snaked around to rub your clit.

The pace is fast and hard and with the way I've been wound up you know you're not going to last long. "Oh God, Jake, so close, so close." you rasp out between thrusts. "Come for me sweetheart, come as hard as you can on my cock. You know you want to,"

he groans out more than talking. He gives your clit a slight pinch between two fingers and you are gone. It feels like being in the center of a nuclear blast, there is a white flash and a lack of sound when your orgasm hits you. The sound fades back and you can hear Jake coming with you as you contract around him. You both are breathing heavily as he gently pulls you up so your back is against his chest. His heart feels like it's beating a million miles per hour and you feel the rhythm being tattooed against your back. He turns your head so he can give you such a soft and gentle kiss that it almost makes you cry.

"Fuck, El. You are so good, and the view from back here watching you come around my cock is one I'm going to remember for the rest of my life."

He gently slides out of you and rests you on the sofa. He takes a few of the tissues from the coffee table and cleans himself up and pulls his pants back up and rights his uniform. You find your dress and throw it back on. A soft beeping of an alarm emits from his pocket. He turns it off and leans down to you and says,

"Sorry to fuck and leave, but I've got to report at 0500 hours tomorrow and it's already 10."

You kiss him deeply and let him know it's okay,

"Not a problem, but just know I'll miss you in my bed tonight."

He groans,

"You're not making this easier to leave now."

"Sorry, not sorry," you grin.

Soon he has assembled what kitchen items he brought with him, collected some of the leftovers, and is standing at your door ready to go. You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him and he still has to lean down to catch your lips.

"See you Saturday," he says.

"Yes, till Saturday," you say and give him one last kiss before you playfully shove him out the door.

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

Chapter 10

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

[youngbloodbuzz]

it’s been a long time since I’ve found myself in these asks. in the times between chapter 10 & 11, I was here A LOT. I still consider BHAH one of my favorite stories I’ve ever read and I’ve reread it atleast three times. Other chapter have (like 9 & 11 have been read even more than that). Unfortunately, I am waiting probably another year before I read it again (I haven’t read it since Chapter 12 came out) just so I can try to experience it fresh. How does it feel to be a semi-famous-amongst-a-very-niche-audience-and-simultaneously-be-completely-anonymous? Must be pretty exciting. That book someone made also of BHAH!!! It’s perfect and I wish I could swoop to the nearest Barnes and Noble and pick up a copy for myself. I’ve always considered printing out yours and Roman’s story just to have it, but maybe I should take up a certain art of book binding first. Anyways, the reason I came here: I’m reading The Stand by Stephen King right now and it’s 475k words. It’s a monster. I’m nearly done with it, but I’m so ready for it to be over. BHAH was only 100k less and it still felt too soon for it to be over. First off, how the hell did you guys basically manage to write a Stephen King novel just based off a 9 part series? Second, how did you make it so goddamn entertaining? The whole time I’ve been reading this, I’ve just been contemplating what you guys must have went through because seeing the physical evidence of a 400k word novel in book format is insane. You don’t get that same experience scrolling on a screen. So, essentially I just came here to say again how much I love your story and also say how absolutely insane the two of you are. You’ve made a lot of people extremely happy with your story. If only it wasn’t illegal to sell on shelves, I think it would be considered a classic in the LGBT section of the book store. Now I’m signing off. Love y’all. I’ll check back in next year when I do my reread

thank you so much oh my god this is so sweet. honestly every time i get a message like this i'm still so surprised how well loved it is. i personally don't particularly feel like any kinda semi famous fic author lol thobm has such a small fandom after all but it is a first time that something i co-wrote got this much attention

and honestly i have no idea how we managed to write something that long and coherent while still being entertaining and gripping. we both agreed though that (in roman's words lol) that the key to making a long novel not seem like a huge slog is to make sure your plotting is even across big sections (ie/ our massive chapters lol) while still maintaining an overall structure. even having each chapter or pair of chapters feeling like they each have their own little mini arc because usually the past and present would complement each other in some way which meant that we pulled off a good ebb and flow effect

so in other words like...a lot of rambling in the dms and being super obsessed lmao

maybe one day we could officially publish it but no promises lol

@romanimp

[beck-a-leck]

I bit the bullet and posted the hyperfixation fic.

An Ill-Advised Journey - By TheBeckster; T, WIP, 1/?, 4.7k

When Bilbo Baggins left the Shire in the company of Thorin Oakenshield, she had not known she was pregnant. The thought of it being a possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind. She should turn around and return to the Shire. She should go home to safety and give up on this dangerous adventure. She should do a great many things. None of which are traipsing across all of Middle-earth with a pack of Dwarves. And yet...

If you've been here, then you know I have spent the last 2 months working on this story and honestly I'm just getting the Hyperfixation Fic out before I lose my nerve. (And really, I've only waited this long because I could not settle on a title, and darn it I'm still entirely happy with the one I picked)

Not entirely sure where it came from other than I've been doing a Tolkien deep dive recently, going through the books and rewatching the movies, which I hadn't done in a while, so the Hobbit was semi-fresh on my mind, granted it had still been like 4 months since I'd done the book and movies. And I guess I'm a creature of habit, and when things happen irl I guess I turn them into fics? Ya know, I love baby-fic, and I'm of an age where people in my life are having babies, and I guess when someone I know has a baby I end up writing baby-fic, because everyone deserves some soft baby cuddles. And then when I start new jobs, I guess I also write Rule 63 AUs, which also happened to me this summer. So the math works out, I suppose. Tolkien Deep Dive + Baby Fic Need + New Job Rule 63 AU = the most ill-advised road trip ever. (aka a fic for a fandom I've never been really into and never thought I would write, but current me is laughing at me from 3 months ago now) Okay look! Maybe I just wrote this story because I wanted to see the Company being all soft for a tiny baby! Sue me!

Snippet below the cut!

“Pregnant?” she echoed in disbelief. “At my age? Don’t be ridiculous. My courses are supposed to be ending. No, no that can’t be right. Besides, I haven’t –” the memory of that gentleman Hobbit from Bree sparked in Bilbo’s mind. “—Oh… oh I suppose I have. Oh dear. Oh my…”

Then she fell into a bit of a state, muttering to herself and thinking so deeply that she appeared to neither hear nor feel any attempts to get her attention.

“She gets like this,” Óin assured the Elves, “Give her a moment, she’ll either snap out of it, faint, or start whistling like a kettle.”

Bilbo did not start whistling like a kettle, nor did she utter one single “nope” before passing out. She did eventually reach the bottom of her mental spiral and reemerged to see three healers blinking patiently at her.

She laughed hesitantly. “I don’t suppose what you just told me a few minutes ago was all a hallucination?”

“That depends on what you believe we told you.” One of the Elves offered gently.

“That I’m pregnant?”

They all pursed their lips and shook their heads. “That’s real, lass.” Óin confirmed.

Bilbo dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, of all the times to leave the Shire unexpectedly. They’ll never believe that I… oh, dear. Oh, bother.” She looked up at Óin. “Did you know?”

“I suspected. Thought you were using us as an excuse to escape a scandal.”

Laughing just on the edge of hysterics, Bilbo shook her head. “Gracious no! If I’d known, I’d never have agreed to traipsing all across Middle-Earth with a bunch of Dwarves. That would have been right foolish, wouldn’t it?” Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh dear, I’ll have to tell the others, won’t I?”

[magravenwrites]

Finding a Fellowship:

Chapter 3: A Lesson in Life

A/N: I'm so sorry for the lack of updates on this fic, but I'm back at it now and hopefully back to a semi-regular schedule of updating.

Find Part 2 here

Thank you as always to @axe-does-writing for beta-reading this for me your amazing! 💕

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Child abandonment, mentions of a deceased parent, angst, mild threat, theft, mild panic attack. Let me know if you think I have missed any!

This is quite an angsty chapter, so sorry in advance but I hope you enjoy!

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A few weeks passed and winter had well and truly set in, the cold biting at anyone who dared venture outside.

Yet the people still braved the freezing weather every day, the market stalls selling what little they could to get everyone through the winter.

There was still no sign of Killiel’s mother.  No word that had reached her ears, nor any sight of her about the town.

Killiel’s panic at her mother’s sudden disappearance turned into a constant state of worry, something that gnawed at her mind at every opportunity.  The thought that her mother wasn’t ever coming back ate away at her.

The questions in her head went from ‘She couldn’t leave me, could she?’ to ‘How could she leave me?’.

A trace of bitterness started to creep over her.  It was something icy that spread through her veins.  She couldn’t describe it.

‘Why the hell would she just up and leave with no word as to where she was going?  Surely if it were to do with being in danger she might have taken me with her or hidden me somewhere or given some warning to be careful!?’

Tauriel’s weapons were still at the house, now locked away in her mothers room so she would not have to see them every time Killiel went for her own.  The constant reminder was too painful.

The only explanation that seemed plausible anymore was that her mother had left to be with her father again.  The only consolation being if she was happy with him again.

‘But I am fourteen, how on Middle Earth am I supposed to just take care of myself with no warning?  She still had more to teach me, about… Everything – life, weapons, money, trading, travelling, about father and where I came from, my family…’

It hurt.  More than anything it hurt.  The pain in her chest grew at the thought her own mother could abandon her.

‘I can’t have meant all that much to her if she could leave so easily – and with no warning.  No goodbye, no note, nothing!  Did she not love me enough?  Did I do something wrong?’

‘Stop it.’  There was the voice again.  It had been her saving grace these past few weeks.  It had stopped her from freaking out completely.  It spoke calmly, firmly, with purpose.  It had thawed the ice spreading in her veins and hardened her resolve so she could keep functioning.  Remain strong.

It did not matter what had happened; she would have to deal with it.

Lock it away in a chest in her mind and shove it as far out of reach as possible, until she had to deal with it again.

Killiel had made a regular thing of trading her game.  Every day she would go to the market and sell two or three items, always keeping something back for herself.  The man on the market stall who had helped her the first time, whose name she learnt was Orthund, welcomed her extra stock.

She had made a bit of money off it now.  It wasn’t much, but it was something.  She had thought to buy some chickens or livestock so she could have fresh eggs to eat and sell too.

The added bonus was Orthund had never asked for her name.  As long as she kept supplying him with things to sell, she hoped he never would.  She wasn’t sure if she should give her real name, it didn’t sound very human, but she didn’t know what other name she could give.

On her way back from the market one afternoon, while she was thinking about the pile of logs she would have to chop for firewood later, a man stepped out in front of her in the street.

She stuttered to a halt, watching him.  He was tall but skinny.  He looked like he could use a good meal or two.  He was eyeing the money pouch she had in her hand.

“Where are you off to girl?” he asked gruffly.

She stood taller, squaring her shoulders to make herself seem less afraid than she actually was, trying to keep the fear from showing on her face.

“I was going for a walk before heading home, my parents will be expecting me home soon” she lied.  It tasted bitter in her mouth.  She had no one at home waiting for her.  No one to look out for her.

‘Don’t think about it, don’t let him know.’

She would have to choose her words carefully if she were to get away with no trouble.  It was better for the man to think she had people waiting for her.  It was also wise to not let the man know where her house was, not knowing if he would follow her and rob the place.  Hungry bellies led to desperate acts.

“Who are your parents?  I don’t recall seeing you here before, and I haven’t heard of any new families moving into the area.”  He took a step toward her.

Killiel took a step back.

“You wouldn’t know them, but we have been here a while, we like to keep to ourselves.”  It wasn’t an outright lie.  If only her mother had taken her to the market more often, at least people would have seen her.  It would have been better than her turning up out of nowhere.  Made her less of a target.

Killiel had quickly come to realise that her mother probably hadn’t told anyone she existed.  No one she had met knew where she had appeared from.  She didn’t know why her mother hadn’t told anyone; was it so bad for an elf to have a child with a deceased father?  It couldn’t be that outlandish.  Still, Killiel kept the secret of who she was.  Her mother must have had good reason to have not told anyone.  Though her mother hadn’t told her everything, there were things she had kept from her, what else had she hidden?

Her heart started to pound in her ears as the man took another step closer, menacingly.  His eyes darting back down to the pouch in her hands.

“Where did you get all that money from?  Steal it from your parents?”

“No!” she defended.

“It’s just a few coins – it's our earnings from the market that’s all, we use it to buy our food.”  Her voice raised an octave in her distress.

She regretted leaving her bow at home, but she thought a fourteen year old walking around with a weapon would look odd to the village.  If only she had something to defend herself with.  It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from her voice, everything in her screaming at her to run.

If she could make it back to the market, if she could get to Orthund, he would help.  She just had to time it right.

“Why don’t you hand over the money, eh?  You look well fed, it’s not like you’ll be needing all of it, I’m sure your parents won’t even realise there’s a few coins missing.”

He reached his hand out to her, waiting for her to hand them over.

Her hand tightened around the bag, her palms sweating.

‘Run!’

It was all that was going through her head.

‘Run!  Run and don’t look back!’

So she did.  With no warning she turned on her heel and sprinted back towards the market, hearing his pounding steps behind her as he tried to catch up to her.

She dodged through the people, a benefit of being younger and smaller than the thief.

She was panting now, her eyes blown wide and her grip on the pouch so tight her knuckles turned white.

‘Find Orthund!  Find Orthund!’

Killiel glanced behind her to see if she could catch sight of the man that was still following her.

She suddenly felt her body slam into something solid.  Or someone.  A hand gripped her arm tightly to prevent her from falling backwards.  Her head shot up to look at the person.

Orthund.

His brows furrowed in confusion as he took her in.

“Whatever is the matter, child?”

She was still panting too hard to reply.  Though the question was answered for her when the man that was chasing her approached them.  Her body tensed and she unconsciously stepped closer to Orthund.

Orthund seemed to catch on quickly, looking between the two of them. 

“Can I help you sir?”  Orthund asked.

“My quarrel is not with you, hand over the girl and I shall be on my way.”  the brute snarled back.

“Why, what is it you want her for?”  His hand moved protectively to Killiel’s shoulder, keeping her in place.

“She has stolen money from me.  I would like it back.  Now hand her over!”  His voice raised in frustration.

Killiel’s mouth dropped open in shock.  How dare he!?

“I have not!  It’s my money that I collected not ten minutes ago.”  She defended.  Her confidence back now she was not alone.  She wanted to kick him.

Orthund’s hand gripped her shoulder tighter, as if he could read her mind and prevent her from doing something stupid. 

“Why you lying, thieving little – ”

“– That’s quite enough” Orthund cut him off.

The man glared at him.

“The child’s money is her own.  I know this because I was the one to give it to her.  Now I suggest you leave us in peace before we do something we both regret.”  He continued.

Killiel couldn’t help but smirk as the man skulked away.

Orthund’s hand released its death grip on her shoulder as he turned to face her.

“Are you alright?  He did not harm you?”

She shook her head in response.

“Thank you” she tells him earnestly.

“It’s no trouble.  There is no honour in thieving.  And it’s plain wrong to threaten children.  If you’re ever bothered again, you are to come find me do you understand?”

She nodded once more.  Reassured she had at least one person looking out for her.

“Good, now be off with you before he decides to come back looking for you.”  He smiled ruefully.

Killiel gave a grin, scurrying off home.

----Time Skip----

Preparing dinner that night, Killiel tried to stop her hands from shaking.

It had been a few hours since the would-be thief had chased her through the market.  As soon as she had got home, the empty home, everything came crashing over her and she had burst into tears.  Sobs wracked her body.  It had affected her more than she thought it would, given nothing had actually happened.  But it had still shaken her.

She just wanted her mother back.

The tears had long since stopped falling, but she couldn’t stop her blasted hands from shaking.

When she tried and failed to chop the carrot yet again, she flung the knife onto the table surface with a scream.

Her arms braced against the table as she took a breath.  She would not cry again.

‘Calm down.  You’re safe now.’

It felt like someone had draped a blanket over her shoulders.  She had no idea where that second voice came from.  It always seemed to appear when she most had need of it.  It calmed her.  Maybe she was going insane, hearing voices.  But at this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Killiel realised that being on her own meant she would have to learn to defend herself properly.

She couldn’t go running to Orthund every time she ran into trouble.  What if she couldn’t find him?  What if someone came to the house?  What if she was too far away?

No – she would have to learn to stand up for herself.

She could shoot with a bow, that was no issue.  But she couldn’t carry a bow around with her everywhere, and it wasn’t great for close combat.  She had a little experience with knives, and a sword, but it was limited.  Her mother had only just begun to train her with them, claiming blades were too dangerous for children.

She would need a teacher.  Her own weapons too.  There was no way she was using her mother’s.  She couldn’t even look at them; hadn’t looked at them since they had been locked away.  Out of sight, out of mind.

There were rumours about the local blacksmith.  That he was an ex-soldier, a weapons master.  Maybe he could teach her.  If the rumours were true at least.

Tapping her fingers on the table in thought, she resolved to find him tomorrow morning, to ask if he could train her.

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Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

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@axe-does-writing @solinarimoon @meow-cinders

[oddgirlsthoughts]

Manga Reviews - ATFYFS Vol.1

The first of many posts of manga reviews! I love reading mangas, manhuas, webtoons, comics, etc and thought it might be fun to share my thoughts on series whilst I read them! So here we are!

Today's is A Tropical Fish Yearns For Snow Volume 1! Being honest, I've read just under half of this series over a year ago, but can't remember anything, so I started fresh again! Let's just get into it:

Note: I will be using acronyms for the main two character's names because they are used so often.

For those who don't know, the plot surrounds Amano Konatsu, a high school girl who has just moved to a seaside town to live with her aunt after her father started working overseas. In volume 1 we follow AK as she starts at a new school (Nanahama High School) and meets the owner of the Aquarium club, Honami Koyuki. We see her adjusting and even joining the club as a way to negate her own loneliness and give company to the sole member of the club, HK.

Firstly I love the cover art of vol. 1 and the chapters being called 'Tank_' with creative titles adds a fun detail to the layout. Amano Konatsu has light hair is often described as a worry-wart, she tends to over-think and stress a lot. Honami Koyuki had black/blue hair and is often described by her peers as 'kind', 'pretty', 'beyond all reach', and 'perfect'. She gets a lot of indirect pressure from her teachers and peers, which she then turn into pressure she puts on herself.

Their first meeting left AK with the impression that HK was good-looking and left her blushing. We see AK reading 'Salamander' by Masuji Ibuse during class. This book is well referenced throughout. In class we also meet Hirose Kaede, AK's desk neighbour. She has long, black hair, and a very bubbly friendly personality.

After school AK sees HK trip chasing cats and a pelican. HK tries to play it off as if she's fine, however, we get to see a really touching moment between the two where AK tells HK that she doesn't need to put up a front and say it doesn't hurt when it does. The scene perfectly reflects how AK is feeling, lonely in a new place not knowing anyone, pretending to be fine.

I loved the personified salamander that would pop up here and there throughout the volume, and learning about different aquatic and semi-aquatic sea animals. It made reading the volume a lot of fun.

HK often gets very shy over AK. We see her getting shy imagining the two holding hands, and being in a delirious state because she's so happy when AK joins the Aquarium club. There was a part where the girls shared an 'indirect kiss' whilst changing the tank water for one of the creatures, leaving HK red-faced and embarrassed.

I loved the reference back to the 'Salamander' book after AK joins the club. She associates HK with he salamander from the book because it was incredibly lonely. We see her thinking maybe she can be HK's frog, a reference to a section in the book were the salamander keeps a frog in it's cave so that it will be less lonely. A very sweet moment.

I thought it was interesting that HK refers to AK as 'Konatsu' (her first name, culturally important in Japanese culture) despite them not being very close yet. It shows that HK already has a desire to get closer with AK. Later we see Hirose getting very physically close with AK and even referring to her by her first name 'Konatsu' also. This leaves HK feeling inferior and out of place near AK.

Okay final thoughts! I'm excited to see the development of AK and HK's relationship. I'm also excited to see how Hirose being close with AK will spark jealousy in HK and how she will work through that. The characters all have great personalities and are written so well. The art is very appealing and has so many tiny details. Once you pick up the volume, before you know it you're already at the end!

Rating: 9/10

ATFYFS Vol. 1 Cover:

[sublimecatgalaxy]

la vie en rose- Part 1 (of many)

-Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x reader (eventually); Elliot (Euphoria) x reader

-Summary: Reader moved from rural New York to the suburbs of LA after a family tragedy. This chapter is more of an opening, explaining friendships and backstories a bit.

-Warnings: Probably a few if I'm being honest. Swearing, mentions of suicide, addiction, underage drinking, provocative dancing, Nate Jacobs lol.

-Word Count: 5.6k

A/n: Hi guys! This is my first ever published fic. I write a lot and I have for about eight years now. I've been a little nervous to share my stuff but please give gentle feedback! I also feel like I should mention that Fez is a bit older in this than I think he is in the show. Semi-original Euphoria timeline. Also I should give the warning that Nate and the reader are semi-friends in this. You'll see.

When I had originally moved to the California suburb, I was inexperienced in every way. I never cussed, drank or consumed any type of drug. I was the goodie-two-shoes of the town and I held that title with a sense of pride. I was the town babysitter, the kid parents trusted with theirs. I was well behaved, loved and well known from a young age.

Sounds like the stereotypical goodie-two-shoes, right?

People only seemed to have good things to say about me. My parents were proud and my younger sister was happy to have someone to talk to who didn’t take part in reckless activities. She had a role model and I was proud to be that for her. She was mine in a sense too. Still is.

Now when I say that I moved to the city, it was more than a move. It was a whole uprooting and change of personality. A necessary one. Especially coming from Upstate New York, a fairly conservative place, where there was not a lot of room to dick around without hearing about it.

It was very different compared to the city.

I’m not saying things were terrible. We had low crime rates and the school taxes were so high that everywhere I learned was top notch, state of the art. I was fortunate and privileged. I really didn’t have any reason to complain.

Then my mom died.

I know that seems like a stereotypical character arc. The mom died and now she’s gonna become a rebel.

I was fifteen and my younger sister, Sienna, was only ten. My dad was a wreck immediately, his slurred words running through my head in the empty emergency waiting room. She’s gone, Y/N. I didn’t know what to do other than to immediately comfort Sienna. She was falling apart at the seams, begging to see our mom, asking for just one last look at her.

It was sudden to say the least. But suicide isn’t meant to be sudden. There should’ve been signs. How did we not see it? How didn’t my dad see it?

Apparently their marriage wasn’t all that my sister and I thought it was. Apparently it was full of cheating and yelling. Things that we never saw, and to this day, I’m glad that we were none the wiser. Especially Sienna. She’s already a loose cannon because of my mom's death. She didn’t need years and years of hearing her parents in physical altercations added onto her trauma.

I, on the other hand, didn’t move on all that quick. Not like my dad did. He took up a new hobby of drinking himself to sleep and ordering Sienna and I around. Then he decided abruptly that we were going to move across the country to California. It came as a shock to the both of us, but I kind of agreed with his idea that a fresh start could be good. Especially with it being the summer, in between school years. It was the only time we could do it until next year without it being a huge inconvenience. And with the ever present room where my mom, ya know, we were rushing to get out and escape.

So within a few months, we arrived in our cozy three bedroom house. It wasn’t too far from LA and it was close to the beach which was good for Sienna and I. It was somewhere within walking distance that we could run away to if my dad went on a complete bender and started pitying himself all over again. That was a frequent occasion.

Sienna was excited about her new middle school. She excelled in anything involving school. Top of her class three years in a row, always learning a few years ahead of her class and she was also an award winning athlete when it came to swimming.

Her favorite stroke was breaststroke.

She always claimed it was easier than the rest of them, that she got to breathe more, but just watching her bob up and down, it made me feel like I was drowning with her.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a similar knack for swimming as a sport, along with diving. I was a championship winning diver in elementary school and early middle school. I loved it. But then school got tough in my freshman year. Thanks mom. I had to drop it to focus on school.

I remember being excited about getting back into diving. But regardless of me, it would be exciting for Sienna’s potential to be recognized somewhere new and it would give me an excuse to get out in the world and go support her. Something my father never did.

But I was right, within the first few months of her seventh grade year, she was right in the front line up for varsity. Smiling with her goofy goggles covering her face as she waved to me from the platform. She was always the most excited when she had that fire for competition in her belly. I loved watching her too.

She pushed me to go and find the diving captain for the high school soon after her first race. Her passion and drive for the sport drove me back into mine and to this day, I’m still thankful. After talking to the couch, explaining my situation and my retired ‘career’ as a diver, along with the many awards that I’ve won, she accepted me instantly. The coach took me under her wing my sophomore year, excited to make me one of her best and brightest. And she did.

About a year or so passed, friends being made and awards being won weekly. I was finally in the prime of my life and I had gotten into a groove. Finally happy. I had the ability to come and go from my house when my dad was being an idiot and I had friends to go stay with, to party with. I was finally different than I was as a kid. I didn’t need to be perfect or a goodie-two-shoes like I was for all those years. And now Sienna had a fun, responsible role model to look at instead of an uptight princess with a stick up her ass.

My friends, to this day, still don’t know why I originally moved from my hometown to California. They think that it was because of my dad's job. I don’t feel bad keeping that lie up, figuring that it’s probably for the best. If they knew, they’d ask questions. And I would have to answer. Then they’d know the truth about my dad and the horrors that I’ve seen in my life. So we keep it the way that it is.

Even without them knowing my past, every day they get me out of my comfort zone. Whether it be a party, a carnival, or skipping class. I was never able to do this because of my mother so I am finally able to have the normal teenage experience that everyone around me was lucky to have. I know that my friends have their shit, their skeletons in their closets, but I still count them as lucky.

Making my way into Daniel’s New Years party, a smile on my tinted red lips, I look for anyone that I recognize. My eyes scan the busy crowd of the kitchen, picking out the familiar tall jock out of the center of them. When he sees me, he sends me a subtle wink before shifting his way through the booming crowd. Standing on my tippy toes, reaching out to grab his hand with a loud laugh, he pulls me into the crowd as I take a deep breath.

“I didn’t think you’d make it!” He cheers with a smile and I shrug with a sly grin on my face. “Well I’m glad you’re here. We got food and shit and, uh, your groupies are over there.” He points in the direction of the living room, my face flushing as I silently thank him. Taking my hand in his, he shoves me in front of him. “Coming through with a princess!” He yells out, the crowd parting in front of me as I giggle, covering my face as he shoves me towards my friends. Kat sees me first, rushing to her feet as she takes me from Nate, the quarterback leaving without another word. I’ll talk to him later.

“Hi!” Kat grins and pulls me into a bone crushing hug as I laugh, rocking us back and forth. “You look so pretty!” She takes a step back to look down at my shimmery pantsuit, my arms raising at my side to do a little spin. Hoots and hollers come from the group in front of me, sparking confidence in me. Rue approaches me from the side, wrapping an arm around me to pull me into a hug.

Out of all the people in the group, Rue was the one that I opened up to the most in the beginning. She knows that I’ve struggled a lot with family and my mental health in the past. She and I bonded over the struggle and effects that drugs have on our lives. She’s a kind girl, dumb sometimes, but sweet nonetheless. Her and Jules were probably my best friends.

Jules is another that I’ve connected with, her kind of romantic relationship with Rue only making the three of us closer. I know more about her than she does me, but she still is supportive and genuine. She’s probably the most normal out of the group if I’m being honest. I’ve always envied her confidence.

Make a mental note to ask where Jules is.

Looking around the group, my eyes immediately land on a familiar stoner, his eyes on me as he takes a hit of his blunt. He sits up straighter, his eyes lighting up as if he’s excited to see me. He reaches over, passing me his blunt. Ah, the drug dealer with the golden heart.

“Happy New Year, kid.” He smiles, his blue eyes gazing up at me as my stomach twists in knots. I roll my eyes cooly, throwing myself down on the couch next to him. There’s a lot of interesting history between the two of us.

When I originally moved in here, I didn’t meet Fez for a few months. Not until I met Rue on the first day of school. She later told me about her brother-like figure. How he’d kill for her and anyone that she loved. I was kind of scared at first to meet him. The whole ‘drug dealer’ title definitely made me a bit nervous because I had very few experiences with people who did drugs, let alone make their whole living on them. Rue came over one day, asked me to go to the gas station around the corner from me, my fifteen year old mind wracked with nerves. Never did Rue ever mention that he was nineteen at the time. I should’ve guessed from never seeing him around school that he was older but I never made the connection.

When we arrived at the gas station that day, Rue immediately slung an arm around the tall, well dressed man. I was nervous. I remember my hands shook as I looked around the store, realizing that he was probably running his drug business on the down low. That the store wouldn’t scream ‘I sell drugs’ in fluorescent lights.

When he finally looked over at me, I remember my heart almost stopping. Eyes blue, freckles on his pale skin, Irish, maybe Scottish, his hair tinted a bit red. My hormone ridden mind was definitely taken back by him walking over to me, introducing himself in a polite manner. I could barely get my name out, Rue had to tell him. I remember him laughing at my bashfulness, my nerves now even worse as him and Rue took up a conversation.

Weeks after our introduction, before we left a party one night, he took my phone from me. He slyly put his number in there, telling me that if I ever got into trouble to call or text him. Rue told me he did that for the people he looked out for. I definitely read way too far into it. I just knew that because I mattered to Rue, I mattered to him.

Sitting around the fire, I pull my hoodie tighter around my face, the cotton warming my cold cheeks. My warm breath reflects in the cool air around me and I take a second to sneak a glance at the man next to me. Rue is passed out next to him, her extremities limp as she breathes slowly. Giggling quietly at her, Fez’s attention goes from our friend, to me. He smiles softly at me, my cheeks heating up at the attention. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him looking at me.

“So where’d you move from?” Fez asks, leaning against the folding chair beneath him. I’m taken back by his question so I sit up straighter, clearing my throat. He watches me patiently, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, New York. Not the city though.” Laughing nervously, I scratch the back of my neck as he nods.

“For real? That’s cool.” He grins softly, his blue eyes even more glassy in the reflection of the blazing fire in front of us. He gently lifts the blunt that sits between his fingers, offering it to me. Shaking my head with a polite smile, he nods, taking a deep breath. Watching as he blows the smoke out into the air, I lick my lips, looking away from him before he notices me staring. “So how old are you?” He asks tentatively, almost nervous by my potential answer.

“I just turned sixteen.” I reply, embarrassed so I turn my attention back to the fire, my fingers twiddling in front of me. “Sophomore year, yay.” I snort, trying to draw away from the fact that I’m so young but already so obsessed with him. I hear him hum in acknowledgement, relieved that he didn’t say anything.

“You’re different than Rue’s usuals.” He points out abruptly, catching my attention. Smiling at him, he shrugs but gives me further explanation. “She told me, uh, you dive for the school. You care about your grades and shit. You a better influence on her than me.” He laughs sheepishly, following my position, his elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward.

“Yeah, I dive. Pretty damn good.” I point out, shrugging proudly. “My sister swims too, so I guess aquatics run in the family.” I add, Fez listening closely to my words, nodding as he takes another hit of his joint.

“That’s mad cool, yo.” He laughs, his cheeks dimpling in a smile. I nod nervously with a quiet laugh, looking around to see more teenagers fizzled out, all of them working their way home. I huff, pulling out my phone to check the time, 12:39 bright across the screen. My stomach drops in realization, worried that my dad will have my ass for being home late. Turning to Fez as he looks at me with a concerned glance, realizing my change in attitude. “You gotta go?” He asks and I nod, standing up as I reach down to grab my bag. “Hey, wait.” He wraps his fingers around my wrist, catching my attention as he nods towards my phone. “Lemme put my number in. That way if you ever get yourself into trouble, I’m there.” He offers and my face flushes, biting my bottom lip as I try to hide the smile that wants to sneak through. Nodding my head, I hand him my phone, watching as his fingers dial over the keys. When he returns it, I smile politely at him, watching as he sits back down comfortably, sending me a wave as I stumble backwards.

My little crush seemed to brew behind the scenes, my heart pounding every time that he was in the same room as me. But the thought that he was so much older than me, that it wasn’t even legal, bummed me out. Stupid California and their strict age of consent laws.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t think about him.

Constantly, I thought about him.

I think that it took Rue only a few months to gather that I had feelings for her buzzcut friend. She didn’t blame me and she never said anything to me or him about it. It was just an unspoken thing between us. She also knew that I was easily impressionable by the fact that he was against what my father would’ve wanted.

Daddy issues. Woohoo.

But for almost a year and a half, though my feelings were noticeable, he still treated me like a kid. And I was one, I couldn’t blame him. Even my kid sister knew of my feelings for Fez, asking me all the damn time why I was so moody. I saw him at every party, every function Rue was at, the gas station when I needed a drink. He was everywhere.

I understood that he treated me differently than my other friends. But the fact that he was either so protective of me or so cold to me made my head spin. It just made me angry that after all that I had been through, how mature I was, he couldn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to, even now, I’m only seventeen and he’s twenty. Nonetheless, I went above and beyond. Like tonight with my low cut pantsuit, my hair thrown all over my shoulders and my make up simple and innocent.

“I’m so excited to get fucked up tonight!” BB cheers, the vape leaving her lips as she throws her head back against the couch. We all laugh at her, knowing she’s typically a bit out there and looney at parties of this capacity. Looking around the crowd, I see Maddy dancing with a mystery man, the question what happened with Nate and Maddy on the tip of my tongue. I decide not to ask, knowing the truth is way more complicated than I think it is. Looking at Lexi, my eyes looking down at her phone as I notice the many messages on her end to Cassie who apparently can’t be found.

Weird start already.

“Hey, has anyone seen Elliot?” I ask, suddenly remembering my friend. Looking at my friends as their faces scrunch up in confusion, their eyes flickering around the crowd. Fez clears his throat next to me, tugging on the collar of his thick knitted sweater.

“Who the fuck is Elliot?” He asks simply, his eyebrows pulled together as I blush gently. He almost looks annoyed at my lack of clarification, him never hearing the name before.

“It’s Y/n’s special fuck buddy.” Kat wiggles her eyebrows at Fez who’s eyebrows raise to his hairline, looking to me for confirmation. I stutter a bit, looking to Kat with a judging look. “What?! You know you want to!” She giggles, taking a sip of her drink before rolling her eyes. “Fine, it’s Y/n’s friend, Fez.” She repeats smugly, looking at me with a shrug.

“Gotta meet Elliot then, huh kid?” Fez asks, the nickname making me sick at the moment. Kid. Almost as if it was a derogatory term, a reminder of our difference in age. A very not necessary reminder. Giving him a tight lipped smile, I nod, looking back to the crowd as I bite my bottom lip nervously. When I see the familiar boy making his way through the crowd, his dyed hair sticking out, I grin.

“There he is.” I whisper, standing up as Elliot and I make eye contact, a smile spreading across his face. Rushing up to him, I launch myself into his arms as he spins me around, giggles leaving both of our lips. “Happy New Years, motherfucker!” I squeal, throwing my head back as he holds onto me tightly. Placing me back on the ground, his hands go to my hips as he looks over my outfit.

“Damn, Y/n!” He whistles, a smirk appearing on my face as I blush vividly. Hey, just because I’ve been obsessed with Fez for the longest time doesn’t mean I need to be abstinent. Right? He leans forward, gently pressing his lips to my cheek as I gently place my hands on his chest. “We gonna drink, dance, smoke?” He offers, looking at me expectantly as I toss a look back to my friends. Fez grits his jaw, his eyes leaving Elliot and I when I look back at him.

“I think we should go sit with my friends and smoke a shit ton.” I grin, grabbing his hand in mine, pulling him towards the couch beside Fez. He chuckles as I shove him down into the cushions, my frame lowering onto his lap. He pulls out a blunt from his pocket, the lighter coming out from mine as we light it. Immediately placing it between my lips, Elliot grins up at me as I take a hit, his eyes on my lips.

“Hey man,” a voice next to me snaps me out of my thoughts, Fez looking at Elliot and I, “I’m Fez. Y/N’s friend.” I can see right through Fez’s fake smile, the protectiveness radiating off of him. Elliot gives him a sweet, polite smile, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

“Hey, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Elliot.” Elliot reaches over, shaking Fez’s hand as I lean back, trying to relax. Feeling a hand on my thigh, my eyes flutter up to see Elliot grinning down at me. “I’ve heard a lot about you, my ass.” He whispers to me, knowing full well that Fez was all I talked about since the beginning of our friendship. I know that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, not while knowing that Fez can hear every word he and I say. “Are you gonna be my New Year's kiss?” Elliot asks sweetly, making me sit up so our noses are touching. I nod, a huge grin on my face as butterflies fill my stomach. Looking across the room to Kat and Rue, they wink at me, then to each other as Elliot and I chuckle. Fez takes another drag of his joint, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re thirsting.” Elliot whispers in my ear as I snap out of my gaze, snorting at his observation.

“And you’re always thirsting, come on.” Hopping off of his lap, I hold my hands out to him as I nod towards the dance floor. “Get your ass up and come dance with me.” I order with a laugh, watching as he quickly falls out of the couch, placing his hands in mine.

I pull him out onto the dance floor, throwing a wink over my shoulder to Fez who rolls his eyes playfully at me. Elliot’s hands find my waist politely, my hands coming down to lower them, his eyes widening. “I’m not a prude.” I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck as we bop to the music, my hair falling in my face.

“I know that!” He chuckles nervously, his tan cheeks heating up at my words and actions. Flipping around, I dance up against him, my hands reaching around to wind in his hair. “This is genuinely the most wild I’ve ever seen you.” He chuckles, his hands squeezing my hips as I grind against him. His lips gently press against my bare shoulder and I can feel the smile on his lips.

“Don’t get too excited.” I warn, my neck craning back to look at him as he smiles down at me, his dimples popping out as he blushes. Taking a step back from me, he grabs my hands, spinning me around in circles. I laugh, my hair fanning out around me as he pulls me in, dipping me smoothly. Cheers erupt from those around us at the romantic move, my head tipping backwards as my chest rumbles in laughter. He pulls me up into his arms as I look up at him, feeling him pull me back towards the couch. “We’re done already?” I ask breathlessly with a pout, sitting down on the couch next to Fez as Elliot swings our hands.

“For now. I’m gonna go do a ton of drugs, so you stay here and I’ll be back. Without a boner.” He adjusts his pants, sending me a wink as I shake my head, watching him slip away into the crowd. My head moves to rest on Rue’s shoulder, a warm glow on my cheeks as my eyes close.

“He’s perfect for you.” Rue chuckles, reaching over to slap my thigh playfully. Fez scoffs next to us, taking a hit as he shakes his head.

“That’s like you sayin’ you’re good for her.” He laughs, making a reference to Elliot and Rue’s common issue with drugs. “Y/n needs, like, a future lawyer or some shit.” Fez points out, leaning over to hand me his blunt. I take it with a smile, placing it between my lips as I breathe in deeply.

“He’s fun and he makes me laugh. We talk a lot so he’s been a big help. And he has good weed. Better weed than you, Fezzy boy.” I wink, Fez’s lip jutting out in a slight pout as he steals his joint back. Rolling his eyes, he looks away from me but a small smile toys under his rough exterior. “He’s just someone to fuck around with. With my history with love, I need someone to just fuck around with.” I snort, reaching over to take Kat’s drink from her hands, taking a sip of it as she gawks at me.

“You and your drug dealer friends and drug addict love interests.” Rue chuckles, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as I turn to Fez who smiles at me, his cheeks heated in a blush. Catching Elliot’s frame out of the corner of my eyes, he comes out from around the other room, sniffing loudly. Subtle. He makes his way to stand in front of me, Rue laughing up at him. “We were literally just talking about how attractive you are.” She points out, reaching over to pinch my cheeks as he snorts, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Yeah? What next? My measurements?” He winks, reaching down to rest his hands on my thighs as his nose bumps against mine. The proximity makes my head spin as I catch a glimpse of Fez awkwardly huffing out of the corner of my eyes. “You wanna go fuck in the laundry room?” He asks genuinely with blown pupils, my head shaking at his question. He pouts, his puppy dog eyes shining as I shove him playfully.

“You’re high on god knows what. Can’t trust you to please me, Elliot.” I shrug, the teasing smile on my face making him laugh. He kneels down, his hands coming to intertwine his fingers with mine. “Will you go get me a drink of anything strong? Maybe then I’ll think about it.” I offer, his eyes widening even further he stands up, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head before running away. Giggling as he makes his way up to the bar, Fez bumps his shoulder with mine as my laughter calms down.

“Be careful, ‘lright?” He mutters, his face full of concern as I frown. “Don’t get into anything I would.” He smirks, referring to the copious amounts of drugs that Elliot takes part in which Fez happens to sell. “Seems like a nice kid, though.” He shrugs, my cheeks heating up at his approval. My eyes flutter back to the boy at the bar, watching as he clumsily pours alcohol into a red cup.

Lexi returns to the group moments later, her face flushed as she looks around. Still hasn’t found Cassie, I guess. Looking between Fez and Lexi as they share a look, my heart drops. I try my best to brush it off as nothing but jealousy consumes me at the small interaction.

“Lexi Howard!” Fez calls out cooly, moving towards me so she can sit on the opposite side of him. They immediately begin conversing, my presence suddenly seeming a bit out of place. Standing up, I send a sorry frown to Rue but once she sees Fez and Lexi, she immediately nods to me. She may be high all the time but at least she can read a room.

Sometimes.

It's frustrating that I’m so upset at Fez and Lexi talking. They’re both my friends. Lexi has always been a good friend to me, but she was never the one to party or skip school. So the fact that she came tonight is odd. She’s more of who I’d be friends with before everything with my family went down. Saying that, it’s good to have a friend in the locker room nonetheless during the diving season.

“Sup bitch!” I feel arms wrap around my neck abruptly, my head turning to see Jules grinning down at me. I squeal loudly, my arms wrapping around her waist as she chuckles, pressing kisses against my cheeks. “You look so good, oh my god!” She jumps up and down, giggles leaving my throat as I pull back to look at her.

“You look so good! Look at your hair, oh my god!” I run my fingers through her short locks as she grins bashfully, her eyes looking over to the couch. Her and Rue share a questionable look, her eyes finding mine with an eye roll. “I’m gonna assume that’s complicated.” I snort as she nods with wide eyes. I’ll ask another time.

“What about you? I saw you with Elliot. I know he’s not the older mystery man you’ve crushed on forever so I’ll keep my questions down to a minimum. How’s things with ‘hot older guy’ anyways?” She asks with an excited grin, my face falling as I sneak a glance at Fez, his full attention on Lexi as she speaks. Looking back to Jules with a sad shrug, she frowns. “I’m gonna assume that’s complicated.” She repeats and I reach up, wrapping my arms around her, just happy she’s home. Feeling a hand on my back, I turn to see Elliot, our drinks in his hands. “I’ll catch you later for a kiss.” Jules sends a small wave to Elliot as she backs away, approaching the couch where Rue sits. Turning my attention back to Elliot, I grin, taking my cup from him.

A few hours later, the New Year approaches in minutes. I grin tiredly as I fall back onto the couch. My legs are thrown over Elliot’s and my head rests in Jules’ lap, her fingers running through my hair. This is what young me would’ve wanted for the future. Surrounded by friends, a complicated love situation, and letting loose.

My head turns to ask Fez if he has any New Year's resolutions but before I can, he stands up, his face stoic and his jaw tight. Well that’s never good. He makes his way past us, all of our eyes following him as he leaves the room. Frowning, I look up at the ceiling as I begin to ponder why he’s so off tonight.

The sound of the countdown catches my attention moments later, the smile returning to my lips. Turning my attention back to my the boy above me, I smile up at Elliot, his lips mouthing the numbers as the kids around us countdown from ten. I gently sit up, a blush on my skin as Elliot cups my cheeks, the people around us prepared to celebrate.

Leaning forward as the numbers hit one, Elliot’s lips gently press against mine as hoots and hollers are heard around us. I grin into the kiss, playfully biting his bottom lip as he leans back with a chuckle. Going back in for another kiss, the sound of glass breaking startles me, my body jumping in Elliot’s grasp as the room falls quickly silent.

“What the fuck was that?”

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

A/n: So, wow. Like I said, it's an opener. I'm like panicking right now, sitting here, waiting to press 'post now'.

I feel like it's important for me to add that I originally wrote this fanfic using my own damn name so if you get a 'liz' thrown in there, hi, that's me. I've been panicking about whether I missed one and forgot to switch it with a Y/n.

I'm so proud of the header of this post, lemme tell you. Looks so professional.

Okay, be nice please lol, I'm fragile.

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Sun And Moon (Pete Davidson x Reader)

Heyyyyyy besties! So I'm back with another white boy of the month. I would like to warn you that this will be mentioning Pete's BPD and the reader will be mentioned as somebody that has had traumatic experiences however i am not mentioning what does that imply so don't worry about it. Other than that I hope you enjoy!

Being with Pete was almost a gift and a curse, you were so different yet so alike. The ultimate example of twinflames, the yin and yang. If someone had to describe what you two were like was that (y/n) was like the sun, a warm personality with kindness and such just overall this untouchable beauty from inside and out, also she adores to be under the sun, Pete sometimes found her as she laid on the floor next to her cat just so she can enjoy the warm rays, sometimes she would have her crystals (Pete called them "magic rocks") which Pete found so adorable, also as the weather got warmer she got happier.

Pete was the moon, a little bit more moody, mysterious, yet alluring, he intrigued anyone that was around him. Unlike (y/n) Pete was a night owl, he liked late night drives, staying up all night just smoking weed and watching movies, he liked the silence that the nightfall brought, he felt more at peace with the idea of relaxing and enjoying the darkness that others feared. Many times (y/n) woke up in the middle of the night and found him on her balcony, just sitting there and enjoying the view.

People around them brought up that comparison so much that they even got it as a couples tattoo, (y/n) got the sun behind her ear and Pete got the moon on his left middle finger cause he found it funny. However the curse was that they had to learn how to be around one another, yes they had similarities but they weren't quite the same situations.

Pete was a comedian, (y/n) was an author, both of them had to sometimes sit their ass down and think of something to write, but the circumstances were different. 

"Baby I'm here"

Pete said as he shut the door of (y/n)'s apartment, dropping his pair of keys on the bowl that she had conveniently placed on a piece of furniture right next to her front door. Pete waited for an answer while taking off his shoes, (y/n) liked structure and she was a very neat person, another thing Pete had to learn, he wasn't dirty but he was a tad bit of messy so when he was at her apartment (which basically had become his also) he was careful with how he did things.

Silence greeted him back, he sucked in his teeth as he realized exactly why this was happening. (Y/n) had mentioned that she was writing the second book of her fantasy novel and she was in a bit of a writer's block, she had so many fresh ideas however when it came to writing them down sometimes her mind just wouldn't co operate and she just couldn't get it down in a way that she found right. He left the take out food on the small coffee table and continued to walk towards her bedroom. 

There she was, slightly laying back on her leather chair with her laptop in front of her, just staring at her screen and occasionally pressing a few buttons. The door was somewhat open so he could take a good look at her, her hair was down, she was wearing some shorts and a t-shirt she had accidentally spilled bleach on so now it was a house shirt and no socks, she hated wearing socks. Pete knocked on the semi closed door to get her attention.

"Oh I didn't hear you come in"

"I figured, what are you doing here babe?"

"Regretting my decision on signing the contract for a second book"

She mumbled when Pete approached her and leaned down to press several kisses on her neck and cheeks. (Y/n) smiled and enjoyed the feeling of comfort he brought her before shaking her head and pulling away from him.

"I need to finish this chapter"

"What you need to do is eat, I'm pretty sure you skipped breakfast"

She knew he was right, that's why she didn't respond so she just kept on staring at her laptop screen, hoping that miraculously an idea will come to her head. She deeply appreciated his concern but she felt the pressure of her publicist that called everyday to ask about the book, today was one of the few days she chose to not pick up the phone. Pete once again was met with silence although that didn't stop him from placing his hands on her shoulders to give her a massage.

"Come on sunshine, you can take a break and clear your head"

"Pete I have to write thousands of pages in a short amount of time, it's not just fucking punchlines"

Pete's face made a sour expression at her jab. It did sting a little bit yet he tried to understand that she was just overwhelmed with the responsibility of delivering on time. He took a deep breath before patting her on the head and turning away from her.

"I'll be in the living room"

For some time she felt relieved that he left so she could refocus, however after a few moments when she started to see her reflection on the screen she started to realize what she had done which was awful. She felt so bad that she had to shut down the screen and close her laptop so she wouldn't look at herself, she spoke in such a disregarding manner that she felt disgusted. With tears already clouding her eyes she got up and found Pete watching TV, the take out in front of him and it didn't take long for her to notice that he had bought her favorite making her feel even worse. She stood in front of the TV and Pete looked in her eyes and smiled.

"I'm sorry"

Her voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. Pete's smiled dropped when he saw a year escaping and heard her whimpering voice, he immediately got up from the couch and went to hug her.

"Its okay sunshine"

"No it's not, I didn't mean it I swear"

"I know baby"

"I'm just so… stressed"

She said and let herself relax in his arms as she wrapped hers around his torso, feeling the warmth of his engulf her. His scent went to her nose making her feel safe in his arms as the tears stained his sweatshirt. Pete started rubbing her back to help her let out her emotions, he knew how emotional (y/n) was and he found it cute how she feels like cry no matter what the situation was, she had happy tears, angry tears, sad tears, she saw a dog tears, attending a wedding tears, he didn't mind it though on the contrary he liked that she was able to express her emotions with no fear.

"I understand baby, it did sting a bit though, you know how much I love my work"

"I know, I wasn't thinking when I said it which is wrong"

They had agreed that they wouldn't do the "it's ok" type of shit, they preferred to actually say when something either hurt them or bothered them so they can have clear boundaries with one another, it was one of the best decisions they could have ever made, it was one of the strongest foundations they had for their relationship. (Y/n) looked at him and Pete immediately went to wipe her tears, before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry"

"I accept your apology. Are you feeling better now?"

"A little bit. Thank you for forgiving me and I will try to do my best to not repeat that behavior"

She responded, her voice now was more steady and clear.  Setting boundaries between them and being clear about the behavior that is acceptable was something they had established early in the relationship, Pete was diagnosed with BPD and (y/n) had trauma from past experiences so they had agreed to see a couple's therapist in order for them to move on with their relationship in a healthy manner, so things like "it's ok" or "you know I didn't mean it that way" were unacceptable, taking accountability for their actions and having the humility to apologize was their key to success.

Pete's smile reappeared and now gave her a kiss on her lips, making (y/n) get a bit of a shiver down her spine. Their kisses always felt so strong, like energy passing through one to the other, it was such a magical experience to them.

"Are we good?"

"Yes, now take a seat and I'll microwave your food"

"Wow, Gordon Ramsey would be so proud of you"

[dragon-kazansky]

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 3

It had been a whole year since your trip to Sokovia. Here you were again, exiting the airport in Navi Grad, excited to be back. You had invited Wanda to come along with you, of course she couldn't say no. This was her home country, she hadn't been back here in years.

She looked so excited as she looked around, taking in the familiar and unfamiliar sights. The city had been improved on a lot since she was last here, yet a lot of the buildings still looked the same.

"My home."

You chuckled softly. She looked like a child who had been told they could explore all they like in a new area.

"Your photos didn't do it any justice," she said, playfully glaring at you.

You glared back, just as playful. "Oh, thanks."

She gave a little giggle and grabbed your arm, wanting to look around immediately. You just let her lead the way.

Along the way she pointed out some places she remembered, telling stories of things she and Pietro used to get up to. She had many stories to tell, and you loved listening to all of them. It gave you a little more insight into her life.

Eventually you came across the square. Wanda looked rather smug as you both stood in the middle of the semi-busy square.

"Ah, yes, just as I remember it."

Up ahead was your new favourite restaurant. It looked just as it did a year ago. It was like a warm welcoming hug to see it again.

Wanda was looking at you, smug grin on her face. You looked down, blushing.

"Want to see him?"

"Not yet," you grab her hand and pull her along, walking in the opposite direction. You ignored her teasing comments as you marched onward.

It's not like he would remember you anyway. You were just one person he met a year ago.

You took Wanda to the little hotel you stayed in last time. You booked a room for the pair of you, only staying a few nights. Wanda instantly lay down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

"We should eat there tonight," she says.

"Why? There's plenty of other places to go eat," you tell her, trying not to make it obvious you really wanted to go and see Helmut.

"You know why. Play coy all you like, but I know you want to go."

You turn to see her looking at you.

"You just want to see him," you say, turning back away from her.

"I do. Maybe I can be your wing woman."

"Wanda!"

She sits up, crosses her legs, and looks at you intensely. You sigh and sit on your bed, looking at her.

"Fine, we'll go. Just don't do anything Wanda. He's just a nice guy, so be nice, and enjoy his food. Seriously, it's the best."

Wanda chuckles and gets up.

"Why don't we go now. Maybe he will recognize you."

"I doubt it," you tell her, "it's been a year."

You find yourself standing outside Escorpión Morado. You have missed this place. You can tell just from where you're standing that its hasn't changed in the last year.

There were a few people dotted about enjoying their meals. It gave you that homey feeling again.

You go inside.

Wanda looks around you both make your way over to the bar. You each take a seat. You turn to Wanda.

"Well?"

"It's very nice. I can see why you like it so much," she smiles at you.

A man comes to a stop in front of both of you. He's not someone you immediately recognize, perhaps he is new, or you didn't see him last time.

"What can I get for you both."

You look to Wanda to see what she wanted first, but you did not anticipate her to say what she did.

"We'll have the chef please."

The man blinks, trying to comprehend if he had actually heard what she said. He was about to ask again, but she beat him to it.

"The chef, please."

You stare at her, mouth agape, eyes wide.

"Wanda!" You hissed.

The man left and went into the kitchen, fetching the man Wanda had asked for. You sat there in great embarrassment.

"What are you playing at?"

Wanda laughs, ignoring the way you were glaring at her. You bury your face in your arms against the counter and try to block out her laughter.

Wanda is still giggling when you hear someone stop in front of you. A cold sweat began to break as you dreaded looking up. Was this him standing over you? You hoped to high heaven it wasn't.

"Someone ordered the chef?"

Well fuck it all. You kept your face hidden, not daring to show your face. It didn't matter if he remembered you or not, you were far too embarrassed to look at him.

You knew his voice. Remembered it. The smooth way he spoke, that amusement that hung off the end of his sentence. They sexy tone he uses.

Helmut Zemo.

Oh, you have missed this friendly stranger.

"Yes, my friend here wanted you." You hear Wanda say. You could murder her sometimes, you were sure.

"Is something the matter? Sam, get them some water, would you?" You hear him say.

You hear, presumably Sam, fetch you some water.

He didn't recognize you. Good.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," you reply, though your voice was heavily muffled by your arms. You wouldn't dare lift your head.

"Perhaps if you sat up. We could move you closer to the door, get some fresh air, yet sit in the shade," he offered.

You felt Wanda place a hand on your shoudler.

"Come on, Y/N. Look at him," she whispered.

You sigh and take a deep breath. You slowly move your head up, looking up at the beautiful bastard across the bar. Is it even legal to look that good?

He stops his worrying when he sees your face.

He remembers?

"Y/N?" He smiles.

"Yes," is all you can bring yourself to say. His smiles drops a little.

"Helmut, remember? Last year?"

"I remember."

His smile is soft as he looks at you. He doesn't look any different than you remember. If anything, just more handsome than memory serves.

"Did you forget me?" He asks, seeing your laid back reaction.

"No. I'm just surprised you remembered me."

He stands there, hands on his hips as he grins at you smugly.

"How could I forget someone so interesting. Also, you are wearing that coin." He nods, respectfully, at your chest where the coin was hanging.

"I am." You clasp it gently between your fingers.

"It's good to see you again," he speaks softly, genuine happiness lifting his expression.

"It's good to see you too," you smile back at him. He looks far more elated now you're smiling at him.

"What can I get for you? I can't imagine you came here only to see me," he grins smugly again.

"Food," Wanda said. "Though he is quite a snack, isn't he?" She whispered the last part. You turn to her sharply and glare. Zemo hadn't seemed to notice what she had said.

He was too busy watching you.

"Shall I surprise you again?" He asks.

You turn back to him and smile.

"Yes. Do that. I trust you."

Hearing those made him happy. Helmut points his chin up a bit and glides back into the kitchen, though not before telling Sam to fix you up some drinks.

Wanda nudges your shoulder.

"You sure do have taste, and I am not talking about the food."

"Wanda, please, stop!"

She laughs as Sam puts two drinks down in front of you both. You resist looking at her any more and thank Sam for the drinks, he smiles and then leaves you two alone to enjoy them. You take a sip.

"We're going to get you a boyfriend, Y/N."

"Wanda, please, I am begging you, stop!"

She laughs again.

"I'm joking, but it would be a real big shame if nothing came out of it. You two would look so good together."

You ignore her statement.

Zemo returns and places a dish in front of each of you. He stands back, smiling, and watches you both take a bite.

Wanda let's out the strangest moan you had ever heard. You have to cover your mouth as you laugh at her.

"What was that noise?" You ask, just about getting through your mouthful of food.

"This is so good."

Helmut chuckles.

"Success!"

You take another bite and nod. You swear there isn't a bad thing on his menu. This man knows exactly what he is doing when it comes to his restaurant.

"Do you like it?" He asks, specifically asking you this time.

"Yes, very much."

He smiles at you.

"I got your letter, by the way."

"My letter?" You ask, confused on what he was talking about.

Helmut digs into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. It's crinkled and has been early opened several times.

Now you remember.

"Oh, that letter."

"You wrote him a letter?" Wanda looks at you. "You didn't mention that."

"It's not important," you tell her.

"It is to me. It's the only goodbye I got when you left," Zemo said, holding the letter carefully in his hand. His dark eyes were scanning over the words you had written a year ago.

"It meant that much to you?"

"Yes, actually," his eyes cast to you.

You sat there, biting the inside of your cheek softly, pink dusting your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

Helmut smiled at the sight. He folded the letter and tucked it away into his pocket.

"I'll keep it forever," he says, mostly just to tease you.

"Please don't."

He chuckles and leaves your side to see to other customers. Wanda sits next to you, smiling wickedly. You dare not look at her, nor do you let your eyes follow Zemo as he walks away.

"You have it bad," Wanda chuckles, giving her nose a little scrunch with a grin.

"I know," you admit.

Wanda chuckles softly and leans in a little closer.

"He likes you too, you know. I think you left an impression on him."

You glance behind you, seeing Zemo taking an order. He was talking to the customers, smiling at them.

"Really?"

"Yes. I saw it in the way he looked at you."

"You do realise I only met him last year. I only saw him twice," you look at her, doubt written all over your face.

"Doesn't matter. It only takes a moment to fall in love with someone." She winks at you.

Zemo smiles at you as he passes by, disappearing into the kitchen.

"I think you're overreacting a little."

She shrugs and sips her drink, eying you with a mischievous glint in her gaze.

Zemo brings the couple their orders and returns to you and Wanda. Meals finished and drinks empty.

"Went down well I see."

"Very much so," you say, smiling softly.

"Would you like another drink?" He asks, his gaze lingering in you more than Wanda.

"I would," Wanda says, holding up her glass.

You chuckle, "just one more."

You had no idea how happy he was you agreed. He wanted you to stay a while longer. He grabbed your empty glasses and took them away, bringing you fresh drinks.

As Zemo poured behind drinks, he chose to ignore the way Sam was looking at him.

You took your drink gratefully as he handed it over. He stuck around again, seemingly happy to spend his time with you two.

Wanda carried most of the conversation. Zemo and yourself were sharing glances, though always just missing each other.

Wanda finished her drink and made an excuse to leave. You wanted to follow her, but the look she was giving you, and the way Zemo was looking at you, told you to stay.

You watched her go.

Zemo leaned forward on the bar, arms folded and supporting him as he smiles handsomely at you. You smile, though slightly awkwardly.

"It is very good to see you again, Y/N."

"You too. I see business is booming."

He chuckles softly.

"For now."

"For now?" You furrow your brow and tilt your head slightly.

"You didn't see it?"

"See what?"

"There is a new restaurant being done up in the city. Bigger, grander, more elegant than this place. At least, that's what they're saying."

"Oh? We didn't see anything like that. We have only been here a shirt while though. Wanda was showing me some of her favourite places."

"I see. Do you like Sokovia?"

"I do. It's so pretty here."

He smiles.

"I'm glad you think so. You would do wonderful here."

"What do you mean by that?" You watch him curiously, wondering what he was implying.

"I mean, you would be well suited to Sokovia life. If you were to live here," he smirks, hands flat out on the bar as he looks at you with sparkly eyes.

"Really? I don't think so. I stand out too much from the locals."

"Exactly. They wouldn't care. They would have someone so stunning to see every day. I would get to see you more too, a bonus for everyone." He winks at you.

"You're such a flirt!"

"Of course I am. Money keeps the business going, but charisma brings me my customers. I have to make an impact, no?"

You chuckle softly.

"I see how it is," you say, sliding off the stool. You take some money from your pocket and place it on the counter. Zemo tries to stop you, but you don't let him.

His hand hovers over yours as you leave the money on the counter.

"It was nice seeing you again, Helmut, but I must go."

"Will you come again?"

"I expect so."

He smiles.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye this time," he tells you.

"We shall see."

"I'll come looking for you if I have to!"

"No, you won't," you grin as you leave.

Zemo watches you go, his heart doing somersaults in his chest. How could one stranger make him feel so much?

Sam looks at his boss and grins.

"You have it bad, Zemo."

"Get back to work, Sam."

"Yes chef."

Zemo glances down at the money you had left for the drinks. He slides into his palm and puts it into the register.

He will count down the seconds until he sees you again.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @zemo-is-my-muse @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb

[yostresswritinggirl]

A Yearly Memory

~Zhongli x Reader

Warnings: None

Characters: Zhongli, Lesser God!Reader

Relationship: Ambiguous

Word Count: 1.2k words

A small drabble because I got self-conscious seeing y'all greet the Geo daddy- Happy Birthday, Zhongli hnghhh, first time greeting a fictional character kek and writing in tumblr sooo Enjoy a happy new year and let's hope this one does end happy!

Made this at 2:55 AM so don't expect much kek

Can you imagine 6000 and more years of the same day passing, taking time to organize a feast for that particular date? In their circumstance, time isn't relevant, for Gods who lived beyond a millenia. Honestly, everyone who lived in Celestia saw time as irrelevant and passing, nothing but the sun and the moon exchanging thrones in the sky for 365 rotations.

But for Rex Lapis who prides himself the oldest archon also relives those 6 milleniums ever so clearly.

And in his passing, and even before, he has grown accustomed to the importance of 'time' and 'day' and 'night'.

Yet, he stood atop a grassy cliff, overlooking the harbour of his own land where comes a perfect view of the moon parallel to where he stands.

In this particular day every passing year, he finds himself here as if pulled by the winds himself for reasons he cannot fathom.

"Morax-? Morax!" Calls from behind him accompanied with light footsteps crunching the blades of grass under it. His amber eyes only widen slightly before willing it to pull away from the waves that bounced the moonlight.

"God of Memories— (Y/N), I was not aware of your immigration to Liyue, are you perhaps here to document the coming of the annual departure to a new cycle?"

Your form finally catches up to his side, straightened after gathering yourself from what seems to be a marathon just to find him. The ex-archon besides you possessed a slight smile at the height difference. For it was ironic that despite the same age you had lived (and maybe even more for you, as you had existed whence the first memory had came), he was still very much heads above you, contrasting to him as you don a younger appearance to his olden self.

You carry with you a device he does not recognize and when his eyes bounces back to where yours shine in hidden mischief, you looked at him almost offended, incredulous.

"Mr. Newly-Retired, I've heard you abandoned your position to live among the humans you once overlooked," you didn't even bother to answer him.

He'd perked up, tensing his shoulders, ready to be lectured by yours truly. For after all it was you two left that remained longest standing in the history of higher beings, he'd known you'd feel betrayed that he had just abandoned your side like so.

He opens his mouth to explain— "And so, to start your new chapter, it's only fair we impart to you some human tradition!" and it stays open in confusion.

The glint in your eyes finally surfaces full blown and he couldn't help but relish in that cheeky smile you matched it with, arms shifting to lift the contraption hanging from your neck. "I'm fairly certain I'm accurate on my counting so

Happy 6052nd birthday, Zhongli!"

He hides his raw surprise and fluster in an airy chuckle, following your twinkling giggle as you nudged him with an elbow.

Is that why he's subconsciously sentimental of this day ever since? For it was the exact date but rolled back thousand of years ago, to when he first set foot on Teyvat?

"Birthdays... I didn't even notice, and quiet so early too. Thank you, (Y/N), I am grateful for your time and consideration." Zhongli would flash a smile so sentimental and pure that it almost brings you to your knees with the innocence it carries. He's so precious— precious!

"Y-yes, you are welcome! I would have brought some fresh silk flowers as a gift," he'd tilt his head in silent inquiry as you once again fumbled on the rectangular box, "but such gifts wilts too easily, swept aside in just four days! Too quick and easily forgotten." Now the god before you would love to protest, for everything you'd leave behind for him will always be immortalized in his heart and mind.

"So I created this thing over here! I call it a Kamera!" Despite his confusion over the contraption, your triumphant grin only sends him fluttering and urging you to continue. For others it was a rare sight to see someone else do the talking when Zhongli was part of the conversation, but the man in question also enjoys lending an ear, indulging himself especially when it comes to knowledge he has not heard of. "It freezes a moment in time, capturing it in a parchment to be kept forever. As your first celebration, I wanted to capture it clearly for us to look back to together! Like so!"

Without another word, you had grabbed his forearm to urge him lower, using the same hand to loosely wrap around his neck. He'd almost had to kneel from the height difference as he stumbled upon your forcefulness when a click and a fragment of light sounded from afront before he could get his bearings.

"Tada! Oh look, you look so good in an image, it worked perfectly!"

Your energy matched a very particular person Zhongli had to deal with but yours were refreshing and contagious despite the nigh hours of the night.

He had patted his sleeve straight as he watches you mercilessly flap a piece of paper that somehow appeared on your hand. He has questions, a lot, and he was once again interrupted by you: shoving the paper to his face like it was a trophy of a competition you'd been waiting for your whole life.

It was a portrait but accurately colored and captured to a size as big as his palm. Your arm around his neck with a wide, closed-eye grin while looking straight ahead and him (clearly unprepared) with an obvious surprise and touch of obliviousness, glowing amber eyes slightly trained to your profile.

He was glad he was a professional in keeping a calm composture, because he saw just about the most obvious red dust on his cheeks, now immortalized for everyone who sets their eyes upon on the paper to witness.

"Ah, I'm so happy it worked even when I had to rush it to be on time! Here, keep this, as your birthday gift!" You practically shoved the device and the image to his arms with buzzing excitement and pride. "Happy birthday, again!"

An advance technology constructed with the sole idea of being a gift for him? His appreciation is beyond words that rendered him speechless and you patiently watch him take into account everything that has been thrown at him.

"Zhong-zhong... you're too quiet—"

A snap and a flash blew your pupils and forced you to cover your eyes to rub the spots dancing in your vision. He was a fast learner but damn, he could have warned you of his impulsive ministrations.

As you whine over your semi-blinded state with jumbled protests spewing out of your lips, the man before you holds a euphoric smile over the new paper clutched between his fingers.

It was the best gift he'd ever received in his lifetime.

"Thank you, for this and everything. I hope you know how deeply I appreciate you."

Morax's smile, the God of War, however faltered at the edges when he saw the darkened stare looking down upon him. The twitch of your eyebrow makes a sudden sweat fall off his.

[lovelyyy-luna]

vanilla twilight pt.1

fandom: avengers

fic summary: y/n moves to New York with her moms, an old flame comes into her mom’s life and leaves her mom to tell her something she’s been dreading. But she has bigger problems involving something from another world.

chapter summary: y/n and her family moves to new york and meets their neighbor and tony stark shows up causing a bit of a stir for Y/N’s family.

word count: 1025

a/n: so in this story y/n has two moms. And it takes place during the time of Spider-Man: Homecoming. I made y/n and peter 17 in this story. I made May Parker work as an ER Nurse. So Peter isn’t really in this part. I'm just setting the mood.

date: march 15, 2021

CB | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

masterlist

Were you gonna miss Los Angeles? Of course but you were honestly glad to move. A fresh start for you and your parents.

You were moving to New York of all places. It wasn’t that much different from la. Busy streets and noise that keeps you up all hours of the night it’ll be like you never left.

Your moms both got new jobs stationed in New York and you couldn’t be happier for them. Your mom Andonia was a botanist, she belonged to an up-and-coming company battling climate change. And your other mom Shanti, you called her momma, was a nonprofit surgeon working at Lenox Hill Hospital.

You and your parents were driving to New York from Los Angeles. For most kids, that would seem like a nightmare but you actually wanted to spend time with them before they went back to work. It took you a week to get from LA to NYC because your moms wanted to do a whole experience in each state you were in. and between the 3 of you driving was a piece of cake.

You finally arrived in new york and you were happy to at least be close to your new home. Your moms got an apartment in Queens. You looked at the pictures online and it was a pretty nice apartment.

The car parked on the street and you stretched like your life depended on it. You were in the car for 5 hours since your last stop in Pennsylvania. “We were in that car forever.” you groaned.

Your mom was unpacking the trunk with the last things you couldn’t fit on the moving truck, “5 hours isn’t forever, you sound like your momma more every day.” you all laugh then your momma chimed in, “at least I didn’t pass down the giving facts and asking questions every time we entered a new city to her.”

“Hey I wouldn’t be in the career I am now if I didn’t ask questions.” your mom retorted. Both your parents laugh and then lightly kiss each other.

“Gross cant you guys do that when I’m not around.” you laugh and take some boxes up to your new home.

All the boxes you packed two weeks ago were all in one room. It was your dream New York room, semi-bricked wall and a window that connects to a fire escape, and to it being only a two-story building you were the only one connected to your fireplace that goes to the roof.

You put some knick-knacks on your shelves and start to decorate.

Voices come from the living room. It was your momma and some other lady. “Oh, you work at Lenox Hill? I do too!”

You walk into the living room and your momma walks next to you, “May this be my daughter, Y/N.”

May comes to you and hugs you, “Sorry I’m a hugger. You look just like your mom.” you hug her back and laugh awkwardly.

“Well I’ll get out of your hair and let you all unpack.” she walks out of the apartment and your mom almost bumps into her.

“Who was that?” your mom asked.

You shrug and momma says, “That’s our neighbor May. She helped bring in some boxes. And she also works at Lenox Hill.”

“Awe baby you're already making friends.” your mom teases.

“She also invited us to dinner tonight if we were up to it.”

“Oh, that was nice of her. Well, we got rid of a lot of stuff back in LA so we should be done by tonight if we all work together.”

With that, you all started to get to work on making this apartment your home.

By the time May had said you could come over for dinner, you were all done.

You all freshen up and head on next door.

May had ordered an assortment of Chinese food and you all sat at the table.

“So May, is it just you living here?”

“No, my nephew lives here with me. “

“Oh, where is he?”

“Well, he told me he was at his friend Ned’s house. But you know teenagers.” all the adults laugh.

You all finish and your moms and May were having a glass of wine in the kitchen while you were in the living room.

There was a knock at the door, “Y/N hon could you get the door. It’s probably Peter, he probably forgot his key again.” May shouted from the kitchen.

You get up from the couch and open the door, “Can I help you?” you ask.

“Y/N is it Peter?” May asked.

“Only if Peter is a 50-year-old man.”

The adults emerged from the kitchen, “Tony?” your mom says.

“Andi?” he says.

May breaks the silence, “Oh you guys already know each other?”

“Yes we studied at MIT together.” mom said. “What are you doing here tony?”

May chimes in, “Tony is Peter’s mentor.” she looks over at Tony, “Peter is over at Ned’s he should be home soon, why don't you come in and have a glass of wine.”

“I don't want to intrude,” he stammers.

“Come on in Tony. We don't want to make it awkward for everyone.” mom says.

Oh, boy was it awkward. You weren’t even in the same room but you could feel the tension all the way in the living room. You could overhear here the conversation.

“You are?” Tony says to Momma. “Oh, im Shanti, Andi’s wife.”

“Wife? Wow! You sure have changed a lot since college.” he laughs awkwardly.

Your parents finish their wine and decide it’s time to leave. You all said your goodbyes and your mom and Tony gave each other uncomfortable looks.

You all get in the house and your Momma was the first to bring it up, “So Andi what was that all about?”

Your moms look at you to go in your room and you. You get on your bed and put your headphones on. The music drowns out your parent’s voices. You look out the window and see something swoop past your building. You took it as nothing, probably a bird or something.

CB | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

♡please like and/or reblog ♡

wanna be tagged? (X)

tag: @staygoldponebone

[theintentioncraft]

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES - When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours.

I've been tagged by @lordbelacqua (thank you Dea! <3) to talk about Backlead aka: that one Masriel fic I wrote where I got massively carried away...

Rambling/essay under the cut - fair warning, it's a long one!

Okay so first of all just a little disclaimer that Backlead did not follow my usual writing process - the idea was 110% borne out of self-indulgence and it was also both my first foray into HDM fanfic and my return to fanfic as a whole after a long hiatus from writing, so for me this was really a chance to just get back into the swing of things. Everything from Heavenly Guard through to Swansong and all of my current WIPs follow a more structured process and I'm happy to discuss any of them in a separate post!

PLANNING: I tend to find with my fics that I either have a nice little timeline of events planned out pre-writing or I have a very specific event in my head and I just take that and see how things unravel from there and Backlead was 100% the latter.

All I had in my head initially was the ballroom dance scene and so a lot of my admittedly-minimal planning was around the technicalities of that particular section, as well as some of the more general details e.g Marisa's outfit, the setting of the ball, etc. Planning the dance was the most fun part because it was a chance for me to put a lot of my dance knowledge to good use and think up something that fits the back-and-forth way in which Marisa and Asriel frequently navigate their encounters. In a way though I'm actually very glad that a lot of this fic Just Happened instead of being planned out, sometimes it's nice to just run away with an idea!

MUSIC: This gets its own section because this is one of the most important things in my process. Every single fic I write is written to various pieces of music that just help me to put myself in the right headspace for whatever I'm writing at the time - sometimes its just a single piece of music (I wrote Swansong in one hour with just one track from the Unforgotten - a TV show in the UK for those of you not familiar with it - soundtrack on repeat) and sometimes its entire playlists. I do love geeking out about my music choices for fic writing so happy to talk more in a separate post about music for some of my other fics if anyone's curious!

For Backlead I found a couple of playlist-vids from the lovely raviolae on youtube that really worked wonders for my writing. This comes with a disclaimer that I did not necessarily attribute any of these specific songs to either dance scene and I wanted to leave that open for people's imagination - but it's still brilliant vibes for thinking about two once-lovers-now-enemies trying to one-up each other whilst ignoring how much they still find each other attractive.

The two playlist-vids in question are here: you're stuck on the dance floor with your rival and find out they're an annoyingly good dancer and you're dancing with your rival and both of you want to lead

WRITING: First step every time is to figure out who's POV I'm going to cover because that makes a major difference in the way I'm going to write. Characterisation is the big thing for me and there's nothing I love more than to really get inside a character's head and basically think like them, and figure out what makes them tick and how they'll react to the story I'm putting them in. With my initial idea for Backlead being basically about the subtle power dynamics of a ballroom dance, Marisa felt like the natural go-to for this one and I found it much easier in this instance to write in her headspace than in Asriel's.

I wrote this fic in a very out-of-order fashion. The first dance (the slower, waltz-style dance) was the first part I finished, then I did as hinted at above get very carried away and move onto the section in the hallway, then I went right to the start and covered the entire section leading up to that first dance. Then I revisited the hallway scene because I wanted to rework it (the initial version was planned to be more explicit and involved less dialogue - but I wasn't comfortable with writing out the former at that time and the latter got changed by way of me having a sudden burst of dialogue-themed inspiration). The second, more set piece style dance came last in terms of the 'major events' that I wrote purely because I spent a lot of time racking with my dance knowledge to try and make it work in a way that didn't feel forced.

My final major writing stage is to write the 'transitions' between each major part - small pieces where nothing particularly noteworthy happens but it helps the fic to flow from one conversation/event to the next and also sometimes allows me to sneak in a bit of characterisation that I couldn't fit in elsewhere.

Along the way I often leave sentences half-finished with a bracket indicator so I know to go back to it later or I make little notes if I've added something in that needs explaining earlier in the fic, and I make sure to sort those parts out before I jump to the self review/beta reader stage. A couple of examples are below:

Although sometimes this method does also annoy future me too 😂:

SELF REVIEW/BETA REVIEW: Whenever I finish a fic, it gets put away for a day or two and I stop thinking about it completely - if I'm using a beta reader (usually @thatlavanderbard but I sometimes enlist help from friends on discord), I'll send them a copy of my draft at this point so they can start going through and leaving comments for me to work on, but the idea is that when I go back to my work a few days later I'm looking at it with semi-fresh eyes and can properly sift through each sentence to make sure things make sense.

When I'm self-reviewing I generally tend to follow this order of operations: spelling/grammar check (via docs') -> flow check (making sure any deliberate time skips/POV changes/etc in my fic flow smoothly from one part to the next) -> address beta reader comments (because they almost always pick up on things I myself would've picked up on anyway) -> general detailed final read through to make sure I'm happy with every single line and it all makes sense.

Backlead didn't get a full beta read because I had hit a point with it where I just wanted it up ASAP and my impatience got the better of me, but the rest of the above self-review stages still happened and I still spent a fair few evenings going through it properly and also running the occasional sentence or two by some helpful discord friends if I didn't like the way it flowed but couldn't quite figure out how to remedy it!

POSTING: First step was to reset my AO3 password because I forgot it yet again whoops

On a more serious note this part is pretty straightforward - once I'm ready to post a new fic I generally just go on autopilot for this part of the process (other than when I get to 'additional tags' and immediately get brain freeze...). As soon as it's up on AO3 I swing by here to make a post about it, then swing by discord to drop the link to friends who may be interested in reading it and then I normally nervously scuttle away from my notifications for a while out of fear that people hate it lmao.

That last part was especially true for Backlead because of it being my first trip into HDM fanfic and I always get extra nervous when posting my first fanfic for a new show/game/etc. Thankfully I got quite a few nice comments both on here and on discord that provided good motivation to stick around and post a few more things!

I always panic when asked to tag people lmao but I'll tag @fortheloveofwii for any part of the Onward, Onward series, @lyracordelia for any chapter in Hiraeth or the fic as a whole, and @glassrunner for this absolutely gorgeous gifset of beautiful game soundtracks. Please don't feel like you have to do this if you don't want to though!

[ambroseblack]

In continuation of my improvised story/ first attempt at something horror-paranormally, here is chapter 2 to whisper. If you haven't read the first chapter, you can read it here now!

Stay spooky beloved friends!

Love and Peace,

Ambrose

Chapter 2: Daylight

I woke up with my face nearly glued to the wooden table in the dining room. I apparently had a fair amount of liquid in my body at one time, being that my face was surrounded by a pool of drool and sweat. My mouth was terribly dry, making my tongue feel like a cat's, as I licked my lips with no apparent gratification.

The soft gray light of a rainy fall morning drifted through the half-open burgundy curtains that the previous owner had left on the main floor. They were much nicer than anything I would have bought. I would have been happy with some sheets to be honest. But they did give the large house a touch of grandeur. It was fitting, being that the house was so old and well maintained. A museum of sorts. Walking through the front door was like walking into a different time.

The soft tapping of pouring rain echoed throughout the house. I always found the sound to be soothing. It was a sound I had missed in my apartment in the city. It reminded me of rainy days when I was a kid. The kind of days where one is at peace just laying in bed thinking, as the cool water pours down around the world outside.

I looked at the laptop that was resting untouched in front of me. The screen was still up at attention, but black from not being used.

I must have dreamed everything. The shadow. The whisper.

I chuckled to myself as I stood up from my seat to go make coffee in the kitchen. My knees ached quietly. They probably just hurt from being bent all night long. At least, that is what I told myself. It's always far easier to write off the truly unexplained. We are always happy remaining ignorant.

I slowly trudged into the kitchen. My crocs quietly squeaked on the tile floors. They were horribly ugly things to have on your feet, but goddam...they were comfortable. Besides, I was a writer. I had nobody to impress.

I grabbed the tarnished silver teapot that sat on the stove and filled it with cold water from the tap. The teapot, just like the drapery in the house, had been left by the previous owner. In fact, there were a lot of remnants left behind. A large grandfather clock that rang out in the most frightening of ways. An old, apparently never touched couch in the front room. A baby grand piano in the foyer with worn keys. I felt like I was living in someone else's house, being that I had barely unpacked any of my own belongings. I kind of liked it, to be honest. It was like I had stepped into the story where another left off. Or died off...I had no idea. Who really cares?

I placed the teapot on the stove and lit the burner. Bright blue flames licked the bottom of the silver, slowly tickling the water held within. I fumbled through the cabinets looking for the coffee and french press. I had still not really organized the cabinets, so I would always find things in different places each day. At last I found my treasures next to a half-eaten box of frosted flakes. The box itself wasn't eaten, however the cereal inside was. Next to the box was a gallon of milk that I must have put in there by mistake. What can I say...I enjoy frosted flakes after indulging in some fabulous things. The kind of things that open your mind up to be able to do things like write. For all you know, I'm eating frosted flakes right now as I type these words. You don't fucking know. I mean, I'm not. But I could be.

I unscrewed the cap to the milk and took a faint whiff to see if it had gone sour. It was fairly decent. Could have been worst. I took a nearly-clean bowl out of the sink, poured some of the thickening milk into into it, and sprinkled some of the flaked cereal into it. I thought about finding a spoon, but who needs a spoon when you really don't give a shit. I would slurp it like the animal I was.

The teapot began to whistle its horrible song as steam spewed out of the spout like a stoner exhaling at a Phish concert. I scooped some coffee grounds out of the bag with my hand and poured their fragrant particles into the french press. I used to use a coffee pot like a normal person, but once I found the french press I never looked back. Very honestly, it's a completely different coffee experience. Like the difference between having sex when you are a teenager versus sex when you have an understanding of what the clitoris is. Or prostate. Whatever tickles your fancy, really. Like mind-blowingly different. I'm not sure "blowingly" is an actual word, but I guess it is now. Never mind...it is...I just googled it. Feel free to use it.

The smell of coffee began to fill the kitchen immediately after I poured the steaming water into the glass beaker. The smell brightened the gloom of the gray filtering in through the windows from the outside. I was beginning to feel better. The nightmare was slowly slipping away from my thoughts.

<<<:>>>

I half-hazardly carried the bowl of soggy cereal and the mug of piping hot black coffee into the dining room. Splashes of both semi-cold milk and scalding liquid both found their way onto the flesh of my hands. On one hand, it hurt. On the other, it didn't. Pain and indifference, really. The joys of life.

I sat down at the table and coaxed my laptop to wake up with a gentle touch to its mouse pad. I nearly spit out the mouthful of cereal I had just poured into my mouth from the bowl when I read what was typed in bold capitals on the shit story I was working on. There, in the middle of the screen of the electronic page were two words.

KEEP WRITING

"Fuck man..." I quietly said out loud to myself. Even though I convinced myself I must have just written that as a message to myself in my sleepy/high state the night prior, it still gave me chills. I thought back to the dream. The sharp whisper I had heard. There it was again; that unsettled feeling in the bottom of my stomach. But that too could be explained away by the half-spoiled milk I was consuming.

I had to get out of that house for a little while. I felt like I had given myself cabin fever.

<<<:>>>

I found my old black boots by the front door and rummaged through a box to find my long black rain coat that was still packed away. I opened the large oak door that squealed when moved and was smacked in the face with a brisk wind. Deciding that I needed to re-think my outfit (which included dirty sweatpants, a faded Tenacious D t-shirt, the boots, and the coat), I made my way up the wooden staircase to find an outfit better suited for the elements. I had also worn the same sweats and t-shirt for over a week... if not, longer. Thinking about it, I had not really left the house for probably two weeks. That is just sort of my brand of a writing lifestyle I guess. Disgusting? Absolutely. But it bought the house and the things I needed just the same.

I pulled a tattered black sweater over my head and over the Tenacious D t-shirt. The fabric of the sweater was stretched in odd places, but it was comfortable and warm. I pulled off the stinking black sweat pants as well as the crispy boxers. I thought for a moment about showering and then decided against it. What good was deodorant if it couldn't cover up the smell of filth? Besides, the cigarette I planned to smoke when I got out on the porch would provide a strong enough fragrant blanket to cover up the sweaty ass smell. And if it didn't...so be it.

After completing my outfit with a fresh pair of boxers, stained jeans, thick wool socks, long striped gray scarf, and an olive-green knit hat, I was ready to be off on my way to do whatever I was going to do. I didn't really have a plan. Maybe a walk to the tiny downtown. Anything that would get me out of the house. I couldn't bring myself to really care.

As I turned to leave the enormous bedroom my eyesight caught something on the wall just above the headboard. There, on the white wall it looked like a symbol was leaking through the paint. You know how when your paint a lighter color over a darker color and sometimes it kind of comes through? It's always faint, yet always noticeable.

It was hard to see, but it definitely wasn't my imagination. A red symbol shaped like an eye was coming out of the white. Just enough to be seen by me at that moment despite the depressing light filtering in through the wall of windows.

I felt myself want to approach the wall to examine the symbol more, but found myself caught by a momentary feeling of fear and hesitation again. I couldn't stand there any longer and ponder its meaning. I had to fucking get out that house just for a little bit of time. It wouldn't take long for me to recharge.

Get out of the house.

I nearly tripped down the staircase as I feverishly fumbled to slip on my coat to get out of that prison-like space. I yanked open the heavy oak door with haste and nearly let out a scream as I found myself face to face with a tiny old woman. She let out startled gasp at my rapid presence. She was standing on my porch nearly lost within a bundle of winter coat and scarf. She had a plastic bag over her hair which I found both funny and alarming. I assumed it was to keep her hair dry. Or, at least I hoped.

"I am so sorry for startling you honey," the woman said with a sweetly calm voice.

"Uh...yeah...likewise..." I said in an almost whisper. I was internally trying to convince my heart to stop beating itself to death.

"My name is Emma," the woman said with a smile, "I live just across the street." She pointed to the historic home directly across from my house. It was in pristine condition. The beam across the woman's face as well as the intricately manicured landscape across the front of her yard revealed that she was proud of her dwelling. "I've lived there over 50 years. My husband and I..."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ambrose," I said, cutting her off. I said it in a pleasant tone, but I secretly wished she wasn't there. I needed to get the hell away from that space. For the love of God, I silently thought, shut the fuck up...

"Oh Ambrose, what a pretty name..." Emma said with a smile.

"I thought so too when I picked it out..." I said. Annoyance peeked through the pleasantry of my tone. I needed to work on conversation and people skills. My response obviously confused the woman. She didn't know Ambrose wasn't my real name. How would she? And I wasn't about to explain how I was a writer who came up with some bullshit of a name to write under. It was far more humorous to watch her try to work it out in her head how I had named myself when I was a baby.

"I hate to rush you," I said while coaxing myself out of the door and onto the large porch, "but I'm running a bit late for an...an appointment. Big client. You know...things to do and places to be."

The woman's smile faltered for a second and then found itself back; stretched across her face as if hiding a grimace.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey. I won't be keeping you," she said while patting my hand with her pink gloved hand. " I just wanted to pop on over and introduce myself real quick. I figured you have been here long enough to settle in. I didn't want to come over prematurely...didn't want you to think you were being watched or anything...."

The way she said "watched" was horrifying, because what she really was saying was that she had been watching me. Lonely old hag just watching the new guy. Trying to spy and see what he was up to. Nosy bitch.

I faked a smile.

"Well, it was great to meet you Emma. Thank you for stopping by. Maybe one day soon we can sit down for some coffee or something. It would be great to chat with you...I'm sure you have a lot of stories of this town that I would absolutely love to hear!" I lied.

"Oh of course, of course sweetie!" She said with that same forced smile and overly sweet tone. "I brought you a little house warming gift...nothing big...just something I think everyone needs..." Emma reached inside her cartoonishly large flower-print purse and pulled out a neatly wrapped gift. It was complete with a large pink bow on top. Fucking gag.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," I said, faking surprise and gratitude. I know she was being nice and all, but something just felt off. Like when a dog growls at one person but not the next.

"Oh, it's nothing my dear. I just hope you get some use out of it," the old woman said, handing the wrapped gift over to me. Immediately when my hands held the package I could tell it was a book. A fairly large one. My curiosity was momentarily tickled as I pondered what book it could be.

And with that, the woman was off. Not in a speedy way. She was old as shit. But at least she was making her way off my porch to leave me in peace. Wrapped book still in hand, I pulled a cigarette out of the pack that was nestled in an interior breast pocket of my rain coat that I had found earlier. I lit it with the tiny green bic that I kept in the mailbox attached to the brick by the front door. I breathed in that familiar smoke. The smoke that reminded me I was alive, even if I sometimes wished I wasn't.

I looked at the gift Emma had given me in my hand. The paper wrapped around was perfectly pressed and folded. It was a print of lavender bunches, all repeated over and over. The bow wrapped around it had been painstakingly tied. Almost too perfect. Like something a robot would do.

I exhaled a puff of smoke through my nose as I fumbled to untie the artwork. I couldn't see her, but I imagined the old woman was watching me through one of the windows of her house. I imagined her beady little eyes watching my every move. Just the thought made me shudder a little, despite the warmth of my attire.

And then there it was.

"Jesus fucking Christ..." I said out loud to the rainy world around me as I realized what the gift was. "A fucking bible?"

Yep. A bible. And not like the little orange ones the weirdos try to force in your hands at festivals. No, it was a big-ass one bound in soft brown leather. It seemed to be fairly new; the pages still stiff. I opened the front cover and found a note perfectly written in black ink on the first blank page. The letters were scripted in cursive; beautiful calligraphy etched on the paper.

The Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one.

2 Thessalonians 3:3

My heart skipped a beat when I read "evil one". Those two words were written thicker than all of the other words, making them bounce off the page and into my face.

"What....the actual FUCK!?" I whispered in horror out loud to myself.

The rain continued to pour as I stood on my porch with the half-smoked cigarette hanging out my mouth and leather-bound bible in my hand.

Maybe moving there wasn't the right decision after all.