#idk if you've noticed but ask prompts are really hard for me and i have to be in a really introspective writing muse to do them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ipegchangbin · 2 years ago

Note

hi z <333

sorry I was gone for so long but i had school stuff to take care of </3 I was really surprised that people were open to my prompts...it made me very happy

the reason I like bully reader and loser channie is that its rare to be loved unconditionally especially when this person knows of all your flaws

loser channie sees readers "bad side" yet he still loves them and idk....that just seems so nice

this dynamic reminds me of that of san and ashitaka in princess monopole. idk if u ever watched it but it was made in the 90s by studio Ghibli

SPOILER FOR MOVIE san has a knife to ashitakas neck and she's threatening him but he just tells her to keep living and that she's beautiful

another scene she stabs him and he just hugs her

HEAD IN HANDS.....

I also have a song rec for this dynamic ( its German lol ) its called leichter//kälter by Edwin Rosen

basically the song is about how the singers love interest/partner/ex??? says its easier to stand barefoot in the snow than being with him because he is so much colder than the snow

and that made me think.....what if channie is basically at his wits end??and just breaks down and asks reader what he did for her to act so cold towards him ( very angsty im sorry 😔)

now smut maybe I will give it my best 👍

channie and reader watching tiktoks and they come across one with the caption "<<<<<<<when he moans and whimpers" with whatever sound is popular that week and channie looks curiously at reader and asks "are you into that too?? like everyone in the comments???" and they're like "duhhh!!! wait, have you been holding back 🤨🤨🤨" and he admits that yes, he has been holding back because he's embarrassed and scared of readers reaction

so reader starts out by pulling his hand back which makes channie yelp from the sudden pain. reader is grinning now "so that's what it sounds like, huh?" what follows is them groping and pinching channie until he gets hard ( which doesn't take much tbh ) ( Inspo for this is the members groping him on stage during the concert lmao ) maybe they're pinching his nipples and lightly scratching their nails over his arms and torso until they reach his dick. reader then harshly grabs his dick and asks "this is mine, right?" their grip gets tighter the longer he takes to answer. he stammers out "ye-yes, its yours and i-im yours" , "if its mine and you're mine why are you keeping those cute noises to yourself?"

after that channie can't really talk and for the first time he has sex without holding himself back <333 congrats channie on this milestone 🥳🥳🥳

other head canons / scenarios

channie working out more and reader noticing his efforts<33

this strokes his ego on an insane level

will not stop thinking about readers comments even if its smth simple like "you've gotten bigger" or just them feeling him up and staring at him

reader wants to join a session

reader thinks they can get into some gym hijinks and that maybe they can mess with him there ( either touching him or wearing short clothing )

what they do not expect is channie working out topless and lifting so effortlessly

channie seems to come alive in the gym and this new found confidence is simply just magnetic/attractive

he confidently talks to all the guys there and jokes around with them

shows them how to lift

introduces reader as his gf/bf <3333

channie notices them getting flustered and shy but doesn't mention it but makes the effort to invite them more often to the gym

reader def grovels during the post workout meal

reader being the big spoon because they're just more comfy that way

or channie cuddling into readers chest/pecs and being held close by them

reader remembering channies fave breakfast food and making it for him almost every time he stays over ( according to them its because its quick and easy and not because channie likes it even though it creates extra dishes )

reader using their expensive skincare on him and including him in their selfcare days ( think face and hair masks , mani pedis at home and eating expensive snacks )

reader buying channie sunflowers every time they see some because they remind them of him but they don't tell him that

what channie gets to hear is that they "found them on the side of the road", "they were on sale", "the flower shop wanted to throw them away", "my friend had extra" etc. they come up with a new excuse each time, very creative of them 👏👏👏

ANYWAYS...sorry this is so long but my brain was backed up with thoughts

BTW...did u read CB97percents pic of chan !!!!!! its called wolf by the tail i think , I am so deeply in love with simp chan its insane

if there was a tier list of loser chan it would be like this

simp chan

loser chan

crybaby chan

sensitive Yandere chan

ok now fr ,, talk to u soon <3

with love,

your bully anon

BULLY ANON I LOVE YOU. AND HAPPY CHAN DAY!!! welcome back and thank you as always for indulging and bestowing us with your beautiful thoughts

first question: when will you make this a fic. HDJSJD I JUST LOVE THE WAY YOURE GOING ABOUT THIS!!! bully anon youre really creative and your concepts are amusing. if anything id love to write a fic for this but im waiting on YOU!!

second question: may i indulge in some headcanons for this loser boy? i hope your answer was yes, because i present to you a point-per-point series of

— sub ! loser ! chan headcanons 💭

long post, so im continuing under the cut ^_^

— princess mononoke parallels:

I SEE WHAT YOURE TALKING ABT WITH PRINCESS MONONOKE OMG the parallels between san & bully reader + ashitaka & chan :(( after everything they’ve been through together, they still love each other almost unconditionally, much like ashitaka’s drive to protect san even if it isn’t the wisest idea. bully!y/n may not be the kindest to chan and their own feelings, but chan’s confident that they’ll figure their love out: he loves them nonetheless, no matter their state. ;_;

— parallels to leichter//kälter by edwin rosen

while its a banger track, i cant help but feel like the lyrics relate to them a ton. even through translations it’s still easy to read the song as something chan would sing to y/n, asking and telling them at the same time that they’re so cold. there’s a lyric that goes “your lips are purple like the flowers i’ll never buy you” (apologies if that’s mistranslated) and honestly? chan would definitely still buy those flowers for them, but maybe a part of him hesitates still considering y/n’s antics. he doesn’t know if they’ll be extra mean to him about it. your scenario hurts, too: chan would finally muster up the courage to ask them why they treat him this way even if he knows they’re confused with their feelings for him, but…maybe it leads to them opening up to each other, them navigating through their own feelings out of mean sex for once, and ends with a confession from the reader, who knows :D

— a “<<<when he moans and whimpers” tiktok

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENARIO IS BEAUTIFUL just chan giving up and shamelessly letting y/n do anything to him after they stumble upon the tiktok. yk how in the same concerts, chan just puts his hands up and shuts his eyes as the members go ham on teasing his body? i think he would do the same, whimpering and squirming like a needy puppy, babbling y/n’s name over and over as they tease him. y/n probably even lets chan use his words less, preferring him to be noisy instead, spanking him ever so slightly by his thighs when he dares to bite his lips to hold back the groans again <33 congrats channie indeed!!!

— loser!chan being less of a loser at the gym

this. maybe it’s my gym rat agenda, but gym boy channie has my heart!!! i love the thought of y/n seeing him transition from being the timid boy in class to being a confident muscleman. he acts as if the gym is his second home, giggling when he notices y/n watching him be himself with wide confused eyes. chan only ever gets shy again when y/n does their reps in an undeniably sexy way. it doesn’t matter if their form is perfect, them popping hidden muscles out is making chan go crazy. y/n probably gets him off in the locker rooms when they’re alone; i love to think that y/n praises his body instead of being too mean, and it’s so new for the both of them. reader being Actually Nice about him and his body, worshipping him, teasing him for calling them “his s/o” in front of his gym friends, saying “your s/o definitely loves it when you’re confident, my channie” ^^ it actually makes him smile even if they’re getting him off!! they still call him a pathetic whiny baby in the middle of it, but there’s much more well deserved praising here.

— domesticity with loser!chan

y/n taking care of chan is EVERYTHING. imagine slow mornings with the both of them. let’s face it, they’ve probably have the roughest sex the night prior: while chan loves getting degraded by y/n, he loves it more when they pamper him the day after. y/n never always denies that they’re practically spoiling him at that point, but chan finds it cute when they’re cooing at him and asking him if the spank marks sting as they cuddle. they smear moisturizer all over his face and neck after breakfast and chan notices how delicate their touch is all of a sudden. they run their fingers over the hickeys and love bites on chan’s neck and lips with a featherlike touch. y/n, on the other hand, notices how chan leans into their touch with longing and love in his eyes. they’re so whipped for each other :((

— bully!reader being less of a bully and giving chan flowers

there’s something about this scenario that just clicks: even if there’s literally no special occasion, y/n still leaves him a very specific set of sunflowers that can’t possibly just pop in their hands by coincidence. chan’s favorite excuse is “a suitor gave this to me, but i dumped him because his breath stank, so just have this.” what softens y/n’s heart, though, is when they came over to see chan taking good care of the sunflowers by his apartment’s balcony for the first time. he smiled at them, watering can in hand, excitedly pointing at the flowers. “look! the flowers you gave me last week! they’re staring at the sun.” y/n can’t resist smooching him on the cheek because he shines brighter than the yellow petals.

— general loser!chan thoughts

honestly bully anon? you’ve bumped loser chan to SSS tier on my personal channie au tier list, but i honestly can’t agree more with you! something about this au with him fits him so well. i guess he kind of is a simp and a loser at the same time, at least that’s how i perceive it. the one common thing that i love about these channie aus is that he just has this sort of undying and passionate love that’s almost unconditional. it really suits him considering and it mirrors his dedicated self really well, but these characters taking the persona to these extremes is honestly so amusing. y/n can do anything to him, like be mean or kind, and loser chan would eat it up even if it makes him look pathetic. his unwavering love is just so attractive ^^

thank you as ALWAYS for sending your thoughts in, i love these so much and i’d love to see more from you! and hope others chime in and enjoy this as much as we did <3

p.s. im sorry for responding so late!! there was a lot on my plate but this entire message marinated in my head for the longest time. i cant stress enough how many times ive read this over and over. its just so lovely and im happy to share it right on chans birthday !

p.p.s. OMG YES I HAVE READ WOLF BY THE TAIL (shoutout my favorite minho hunter, ren) im just as obsessed with their simp!chan. ^^

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!bang chan #sub!chan #<3 bully anon #💌 ipeginbox #💬 z is writimg #everybody say happy birthday channie and thank you bully anon!

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years ago

Text

Struggle

Prompts: Imagine with me! A Remus centric human AU where Remus is just vibing the whole time as the others all face problem and self-destruct or deal with jerks they're too anxious/nice to leave (like maybe Virgil or Patton have an abusive friend but they use emotional shit like "you wouldn't leave me would you? That would make me sad" and que the fucking waterworks) and well, they can't exactly deal with a lot of stuff without help! And Remus isn't fully. aware of their problems because they hide them. But he says things that really help. them! Like maybe one of them would ask a hypothetical question and he'd be too busy making a sculpture of insect wings and he'd give his opinion/which is actually life advice and not realise what happens. It. could he one of those 5+1 thing? And in the end Remus is struggling through something and the other's help him!

I dunno i like the idea of Remus being a genius and not realising it! - anon

Hola, I have a request! Your stories are the only ones that have accurate characters and relationships, both of which I am desperate for with Remus and Patton. I think you've said Patton as a character bothers you, so I understand if you don't write this. Even if you did something super short though I'd love it; I just want some platonic fluff for these two and you're one of the few people who seems able do that and keep in character. Gracias for all you write, your stories make me happy! - anon

What do you think about touch-averse Patton? Maybe not all the time, but maybe sometimes he can’t stand being touched, but he still lets the others hug him if they need/want to. (Not me projecting or anything… /s) - anon

What if Patton was touch averse? Maybe not all the time, but some of the time being touched made him uncomfortable. But he didn’t want to upset any of his kiddos by denying them a hug, so he just suffered. But what if one day a side found out? (That side maybe being Remus, who finds out because he feels the same way? As in he’s touch averse and recognizes it in Patton) idk - anon

if you're still taking requests for sanders sides fics, can i request one of the sides being a trans man & having gender dysphoria/dealing with being misgendered? xx - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: abusive friendships, manipulation, emotional manipulation, not respecting boundaries (none of these are between remus and patton, but with a piece of shit oc), dysphoria

Pairings: platonic intruality (i think that's what it's called????)

Word Count: 5380

Listen, okay, just because most people don’t notice all the stupid shit that goes on in their own heads doesn’t mean that Remus has to sit here and pretend to be blind as a fucking bat with its eyes plucked out by peregrine falcons.

“…I thought the expression was just ‘blind as a bat?’”

Or, Remus has been friends with Patton for a long time. A long time. Which means that when this new guy starts to raise a few questions, well...

Something's gotta give.

“…I thought the expression was just ‘blind as a bat?’”

“Yeah,” Remus grumbles digging into his lunch, “but most bats aren’t actually blind, they just rely more on echolocation since, y’know, seeing in the dark is hard for most mammals, even with great night vision.”

Patton sighs, propping his head on his hands. “Will you tell me more, please?”

“Uh, sure. Wait.” Remus squints. “You said you had something you wanted to tell me. Let’s do that before I infodump and we lose all of lunch.”

“Oh, right!” Patton claps his hands and sits up straight. “Thanks for reminding me, I, uh, really appreciate it.”

Remus waves him off. “What’re friends for? Now what’s going on?”

“I just wanted to tell you that Brad asked if I wanted to go to see the new art installation that opened up this past weekend on Saturday.”

Remus blinks. “Oh. Is that the one based off of the impressionist whatcha-ma-call-it that Lolo was talking about?”

Patton nods. “Brad needs it for a…project or something.”

“And you’re cool with it?”

Patton shrugs. “I get to spend time with him! He’s so busy all the time, I thought it’d be fun.”

“So why’re you asking me? I’m not your guardian, Pat-Pat, you don’t need my permission to do shit—stuff, sorry.”

“It’s fine, kiddo.” Patton fiddles with his hands. “I just—we were going to play that new video game this weekend.”

Oh. Right. A new update for this horror game had come out and Remus had been babbling about it over text for the past…well, since the update came out.

“Oh. Uh, well, do you think you’re gonna spend, like, all day at the thing?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not that big and I don’t have the brain for it like Logan or Brad do.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Remus scolds, reaching to grab a napkin, “just ‘cause you aren’t talking all fancy about it doesn’t mean you don’t have the brain for it. You and I can just play ‘root, loot, or boot’ while they debate shit.”

“Oh—did you want to come?”

“Nah.” Remus flaps a hand. “Just an example. I got work during the day.”

“Oh, okay. Maybe we can play later in the evening?”

“You’re on.”

“Thanks for understanding, Remus,” Patton smiles, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Sure, you want to do a thing, I get it, things are important.”

Patton giggles. “You sound like Roman.”

“Ugh,” Remus groans, dramatically flapping his hand over his face, fully aware that this makes him seem more like his brother, “don’t compare us!”

This has the opposite of the intended effect as it just makes Patton laugh harder. That definitely wasn’t the intended effect. Absolutely not. What are you talking about, leave him alone.

Shit, I’ve been hanging around Jan-Jan too much.

“Well,” Patton sighs, getting up a few minutes later, “that’s all the time I have for lunch today.”

“Cool.” Remus stands too. “You good with a hug today or just a fist-bump?”

“Fist-bump, please.” They fist-bump. “And, um, thanks for asking.”

See, now, Remus isn’t the type to unpack apologies like that without building up enough trust to know when to unpack and when to leave it alone, but this is Patton he’s talking about here, and he knows that stupid little wrinkle between his brows a little too well.

“Uh, Patton?”

“Hmm?”

“You, uh, you got something else you wanna tell me?”

“Huh?” Patton flaps a hand. “No, no, just—you know, sometimes people don’t get that just ‘cause I’m…I’m—“

“A cinnamon roll, too pure, too good for this world?”

“Remus!”

“What, it’s true!”

“Fine,” Patton sighs, “but…yeah, that, that I don’t like being hugged all the time.”

Remus’s eyes narrow. “Is there a specific person tied to that right now?”

“…maybe.”

“Does their name start with ‘bra’ and end with a ‘d?’”

Patton blinks. “Is that how that saying goes?”

“It is for me.”

“Oh.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Patton shuffles. “It’s fine, he just—he’s a very physically affectionate person.”

“Okay, but like, so is Ro and he always asks. Except when he’s asleep and then we politely kick his ass for it.”

“You what—“

“He’s my brother, it’s fine.”

Patton rolls his eyes fondly as Remus clears his throat.

“Seriously, Patton, that’s—that’s something you could and should say. Like, ‘hey, sometimes being touched makes me feel like sandpaper is rubbing my arms, please ask before you do that.’”

“I’m not going to say that.”

“Or at least something to the effect of it!” They pass a trash can and Remus hucks his cup at it. “Score!”

“Nice throw.”

“Thanks. But you can say that, Patton.”

“It’s not a problem, Remus, it’s just a thing.” Patton shrugs. “I don’t mind. I’ll text you?”

“Sure.”

As Patton walks off, Remus watches him go for a minute before shaking his head and going back to his own work. He didn’t miss the way Patton tensed as Remus reached closer to him as he threw the cup, nor does he miss the way Patton is wearing long sleeves when they play the game that night.

“Sheesh,” Remus laughs as he catches up to Patton near their normal table, “what, did you come down off a five-hour energy high this morning?”

Patton just smiles weakly at him. “Hi, Remus. And no, I don’t drink that.”

“You do all the amazing shit you do without an ungodly amount of caffeine?” Remus plops into the chair across from him. “You’re a better man than I.”

“We just need different things, Remus.”

“Mhm.” Remus eyes him as he takes a sip of his own unreasonably caffeinated drink. “So, what’s up? You wanna talk about it?”

Patton waves a hand lazily as he stabs his salad with his fork. “Nothing to talk about. Just tired.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

“No.”

Remus pauses. “You want me to back off?”

Patton shakes his head, smiling up at him. “No, sorry, I’m just…just tired. I’m not trying to be short with you.”

“You’re always short to me,” Remus says, his tone a touch more gentle than it would normally be, “and you don’t have to apologize, Patton.”

Patton’s smile is a little closer to his eyes this time. “You’re worried, how can I be upset at you?”

“Uh, very easily, if what I’m doing is making it worse.”

“You’re not.” Patton knocks their cups together. “Just need words.”

“Words are dumb.”

“They sure are.”

“You got time, if you want it, I need to inhale some food objects.”

“Consume away.”

Remus begins to eat his lunch, keeping his eyes on Patton as the sunlight moves across the sky. It’s not cloudy today, which means within about ten minutes, Remus starts to wish that he brought his better sunglasses. But some prick with a Starbucks cup that keeps hanging around Roman took them, so…

“I had a pretty bad sensory overload last night,” Patton says after a while, so low it takes Remus a moment to hear it, “so sleeping was hard.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Remus takes another bite, chews, swallows. “You need support from me?”

“This is enough.” Patton smiles. “Just to…sit and not have to be a completely normal person for a little.”

Remus snorts. “You are under no obligation to ever be normal with me, Patton, I like you for the real you, not the fake you society demands.”

It surprises a laugh out of Patton that’s enough to make Remus chuckle too. Patton knocks their cups together again. “Can we make everyone else do that too?”

“God, you think I’m not freaking trying?”

“How’s that going?”

“It isn’t,” Remus says gravely, “it really freaking isn’t.”

They laugh again, startling a few birds from a nearby tree. After a moment, Patton sobers.

“Brad and I went to a market last night,” he says quietly, “and it was…supposed to be really fun.”

Remus sets his fork down. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“…but…”

Remus snorts.

“Remus!” But they’re both laughing.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s fine…it was just—I don’t know, it was so much, Remus.” Patton slumps down onto his hands. “And I told him I couldn’t really spend that much time in the bright section because that’s where they were cooking a lot of the street food and it…”

“Smelled?”

“So much, Remus, and it’s not that it even smelled bad, it just—“

“Your nose decided that it would rather not?”

“Like, the second we got close.” Patton closes his eyes and rubs his nose against his hands. “And it’s not that I didn’t have fun…I did, and we got this—oh my gosh, Remus, I bought this incredible hot chocolate that you have to try—you could come over tonight?”

“Sure—but wait, Patton—“ Remus leans forward— “you told him you’d have a sensory issue and he did that anyway?”

Patton shifts. “I didn’t say sensory issue, I just said that it, you know, I couldn’t spend too much time there.”

“Okay, but—“

“He could’ve interpreted that as like, a time thing, not a sensory thing.”

Remus sighs. “Next time, do you think you could tell him? That it is a sensory thing?”

“I can try.” Patton shakes his head. “But enough about my bad night, how are you doing?”

Remus launches into an in-depth description of how he completely tore apart an action movie with Roman and Logan over Discord, but he keeps the way Patton’s slumping a little too much for his liking, not laughing as loudly as he could be, and flinching when one of the other people decides to have a fragrant cup of tea, tucked away.

Ooh, he should ask if Patton wants to borrow his pack of earplugs.

“…hey, Remus?”

Remus looks up from where he’s elbows deep in a dragon egg made of beetle casings hot-glued to a polished and smoothed ball of tin foil. “Yeah?”

Patton’s looking at his phone. “Can I, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Just did, Pat-Pat, you can always ask me something. Unless it’s ‘can I use your kneecaps,’ ‘cause unfortunately I kinda need those.”

Patton doesn’t laugh. Remus sets the hot glue gun aside and does to sit across from him, pulling a pillow into his lap and resting his chin on it.

“What’s up?”

Patton’s fingers tap out an anxious rhythm on the back of his phone. “So I went to that dinner with Logan, Janus, and Brad, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And we, uh, we sat right next to this like, stage thing? Where they had a live musician.”

“Whoa, that’s cool.”

“Yeah, and I—I mean, it was cool for a little while and then my head started to hurt from it so Janus started explaining how you could tell the violin player was really good—“ a brief smile tugs at his mouth— “and about the piece they were playing.”

Remus smiles too. Janus’s interest in classical music and playing the violin hasn’t failed to help Patton yet, even when he can’t play because he’s got his gloves on. “Did you recognize it?”

“Yeah, I didn’t—I didn’t know the name of it but I knew what it was.” They make brief eye contact. “Janus said he was, um…’intrigued’ by their interpretation of the music.”

Remus snorts. “I’m sure that’s what he said in public.”

Patton’s smile twitches before it fades. “But then, um, Brad said that we were being rude and I tried to explain that I needed Janus to help me stop freaking out and he…he said…”

Remus leans forward. “What did he say, Patton?”

“He said that he was, um…that he didn’t realize he had to be…” Patton swallows. “He didn’t realize that I was always needing to be calmed down.”

Remus’s fist clenches. “Did Janus punch him?”

“What? No, we were in public.”

“So Logan punched him?”

Patton hesitates. “Like…figuratively they both did and he looked upset by it—but I don’t think he realized what he said, or how it came off, he said it like he was joking—I think? He said he was just joking when Janus asked, so…”

Remus takes a deep breath in and out. No use getting pissed, no use getting pissed, no use getting pissed. “Okay…?”

“But then he sent me this.”

Patton holds up his phone and Remus leans closer.

Brad: I’m really fucking sorry about earlier, I never meant to upset you so bad, I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, that was a really awful thing to do to you, I don’t deserve to be your friend after what I did.

…Remus isn’t gonna say he’s wrong, but the way it’s coming off, even over text is…not good.

“That’s a lot.”

“Yeah.” Patton tucks the phone back into his lap. “Like, what do I say to that? I know I’m not supposed to say it was okay, because it…it kind of wasn’t, but I don’t want him to think I absolutely don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Remus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I mean, you can accept his apology and go from there, can’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“Patton,” Remus calls, getting his attention again, “you don’t have to respond to this right now.”

“I don’t?”

“No, you don’t.”

“But he…” Patton looks down at the text again. “He seems really upset. I don’t want him to feel really upset.”

“So say thank you for the apology and you’re going to sleep now. You can talk more later.”

“…okay.” They wait while Patton sends the text and it goes through. “Thanks, Remus.”

Remus nods, waiting a moment before carefully calling Patton’s name again.

“Yeah?”

“You know you don’t…have to hang out with him, right?”

Patton frowns. “He’s my friend.”

“Yeah, he is, but he also seems to make you pretty uncomfortable a lot of the time.”

“It’s not all of the time, it’s just sometimes. He likes to do things that require more spoons from me, it’s not like he’s asking me to do something outrageous.”

“But he is asking you to do things and then not respecting when you don’t want to,” Remus insists, “and then your night is getting ruined while he seems to be just peachy.”

Patton raises an eyebrow. “This text doesn’t seem very peachy to me.”

Remus sighs. “You’re right, it doesn’t. I’m just—I’m just saying that you’re allowed to have boundaries too.”

“I know.” Patton reaches out and offers a fist bump. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

Remus returns it, but he has an awful feeling that this isn’t over yet.

“So, what’s the egg for?”

“Oh, did I not tell you?”

“Pat!” Remus leans his head back over the couch. “Get your butt in here, it’s starting!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, pause it for a minute!”

Remus grumbles, reaching out and slapping the pause button. The movie freezes on the first of the opening logos as he turns to hook his chin over the arm.

“What’s taking so long? Are you destroying my toilet or something?”

“Ew, gross, Remus! No, no, I’m just—I’ll be there in a minute.”

Remus frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine!”

Remus grumbles again, pulling out his phone and going back to playing one of his stimming games as he waits for Patton to join him. After ten minutes, he peeks up again.

“Seriously, Pat, are you—are you good? You’ve been out there for a while.”

No response.

Remus gets up from the couch to wander through the apartment. “Pat? Patton?”

A muffled voice coming from just outside. Remus grabs his keys and opens the door, seeing Patton leaning against the opposite wall and talking on the phone. He holds a finger up to say ‘one moment’ as he finishes the call.

“Sorry,” he says as he hangs up, “I didn’t realize how long it had been.”

“Is everything…good?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine,” Patton says a little too quickly, “Brad just needed someone to talk to.”

Remus frowns. “And it…had to happen right now?”

“He has anxiety,” Patton says softly, but then…doesn’t elaborate.

“Patton, this is the fourth time this has happened,” Remus says, a bit of irritation starting to slip into his voice, “I know you don’t—I know you mean well, but isn’t this getting a little ridiculous?”

“He needs someone to talk to, Remus, he doesn’t have that many friends.”

“Literally, you said he was off with his friend group two days ago, that’s why he wasn’t coming to the party.”

“Okay, but like, there’s a friend group and then there’s people who you feel comfortable talking to about things, right?”

Remus sighs. “Can we not have this conversation in the hallway, please?”

“Oh, um, yeah.”

Remus shuts the door behind them and goes to sit on the couch, rubbing his face. Patton sits next to him. “I just—I’m feeling a little slighted by this.”

Patton blinks. “Because I’m taking time to—out of our time to spend together, I’m paying attention to him?”

“A little, yeah. It feels like you care more about his needs than stuff we’ve agreed to do together.”

Patton frowns. “But you don’t have a problem when it’s Logan or Virgil or Janus or Roman.”

“Yeah, but I know them, and I know they won’t be—“ Remus cuts himself off and rubs his face again. “I know how that sounds.”“…it sounds bad, Remus.”

“I know.” Remus throws himself against the back of the couch. “But I also know that none of them purposefully put you in situations where they know you’re gonna get sensory overload and they ask your permission before they touch you and they know how to apologize without making you feel guilty for expressing a boundary.”

Patton takes a deep breath. “I know that you don’t like him, Remus.”

“I don’t.”

“But he is my friend, and you don’t have to like all my friends.”

“I know that, but…” Remus sits up and faces him. “What else does he have you do for him? To help with his anxiety?”

Patton fiddles with his hands. “Um, I go to a lot of places with him to help him stay grounded.”

“Like?”

“The mall, the movies, parties and concerts sometimes—“

“Does he know that these places make you feel overwhelmed?”

“I mean, yeah, but he’s feeling overwhelmed too and he said that having me there helps.”

“Okay, and what does he do for you to keep you from being overwhelmed?”

Patton hesitates. Remus takes another deep breath.

“And he has you talk on the phone, does he know you have phone anxiety?”

“Yeah, but he said texting doesn’t really help him.”

“But he knows it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Does he still touch you without permission?” Remus stares hard at Patton. “Does he still hug you without permission?”

“Sometimes he needs to be grounded,” Patton says sharply, “and I’m happy to help my friends, Remus.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t—“

“Because that’s what it feels like!”

The force of Patton’s shout rings in the living room and Remus doesn’t quite flinch back but recognition flashed in Patton’s eyes and the collective anger falters.

“Sorry for yelling.”

Remus waves him off. “Sorry for…interrogating you. I don’t—I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Patton, I’m just worried that you’re—oh, god, how did Roman put it?”

They wait for a moment.

“…don’t break yourself into too many pieces trying to put someone else back together.”

“Oh,” Patton lets out, “that’s…that’s really pretty, Remus.”

“Roman’s the poet.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Patton reaches out to offer a fist bump. Remus takes it. “Thank you, Rem, and I…I know you’re just worried. But if someone needs help, I can’t just say no.”

Yes, you can, Remus wants to say, but instead, he just mumbles, “Virgil has anxiety too, and he gets it.”

“Virgil has the rest of us,” Patton corrects, “Brad doesn’t.”

Remus sighs. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll drop it.” He reaches for the button. “You ready to watch, now?”

“Yes, let’s do it.”

Pat: Are you busy right now?

Remus shoots up in bed and scrambles to grab the phone and unlock it.

Me: no not at all are u ok

Pat: Do you mind if I come over? It’s alright if not, I know it’s late.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck.

Me: get ur ass over here, pat-pat, I’ll put the hot water on.

Pat: Thank you, Remus.

Remus scrambles out of bed and throws a decent shirt on. He yanks on a pair of sweatpants and stumbles to the kitchen, turning on the soft not-a-sensory-overload lamp and switching on the kettle. He gnaws on a fingernail as he watches the screen on his phone, begging for it to tell him that Patton’s here already.

The second there’s a hesitant knock on his door, he’s off like a shot, peering through the peephole and yanking the door open.

Patton stands there, his gaze unfocused, his hoodie sleeves pulled down over his hands and his glasses fogged up. He doesn’t even flinch when Remus yanks the door open so fast he almost falls over.

“Hey, Pat-Pat,” Remus says, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible, “you wanna come in?”

Patton nods, walking inside and sitting down on the bar stool, folding his hands politely in his lap.

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate, please.”

Remus takes the big mug with cartoon snowflakes down from the cupboard and pours a little of the boiling water into the pot. He sets a bowl on top and warms the milk as Patton watches, smiling to himself as Patton begins to describe what he’s doing.

“You’re using a bain-marie so you don’t burn the milk and you’re using pre-boiled water so it goes faster but doesn’t overheat and use too much space.”

“Peppermint? Whip-cream?”

“Yes, please.”

Remus pours a generous amount of whip cream on top of the mug and sticks a candy cane in it, sliding the drink across the counter to Patton. He quickly makes his own drink and leans on the counter, sipping to calm himself down so he doesn’t jump down Patton’s throat.

Let him talk, let him talk, let him talk, let him talk.

“R-Remus?”

“Yeah, Pat-Pat?”

“I…I think Brad’s a bad friend.”

Remus sets the mug down and takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he settles on, “do you want to tell me anything more about that?”

Patton takes a sip and sticks the end of the candy cane in his mouth for a moment. “It’s…it’s okay that I don’t want to be hugged all the time, right?”

“Yes, Patton, that is absolutely okay.”

He fiddles with the end of the hoodie. “And it’s okay that I don’t…that sometimes I can’t—that I can’t do some things sometimes?”

“Yes. You should not be expected to be able to do absolutely everything all the time.”

Patton’s lower lip trembles and Remus is going to absolutely smash someone’s skull in with a sledgehammer, “and it’s—it’s okay for me to—to—“

A sob chokes out of his throat and Remus’s chest clenches.

“I think I hurt him,” Patton manages in a strangled whisper, “I think I—Remus, I—“

“Easy, Patton,” Remus says, “count the snowflakes on your mug for me.”

“…twelve.”

“Good job. What color is it?”

“Blue.”

“Describe what the drink tastes like.”

“…hot chocolate-y. Peppermint too. And the whip-cream.”

“Perfect.” He leans a little closer. “What’s going on, Pat?”

Patton takes a breath, his lower lip wobbling again. “I…we were watching a movie and I…he started to try and—and put his arm around me and I moved away and he…he asked me why I was m-moving away and I said I didn’t want to be touched.”

“As you should, good job.”

“And I—I—he kept trying to hug me and I—“ Patton grips his shoulders— “I just asked him why he was still trying when I said I didn’t want to and he—he said that I should just get over it especially since he was being better about using the right p-pronouns and—“

Patton hiccups and Remus’s fists clench out of sight.

“—he said that he needed to be grounded and that I should h-help him and I—I—“

Patton looks up, makes eye contact with Remus, and his voice cracks.

“I pushed him.”

“You pushed him?” Patton nods frantically. “Okay, okay, you pushed him. Then what happened?”

“He—he fell back against the couch and he—he said I really hurt him and I—Remus, I didn’t know what to do so I ran and I—I could hear him chasing me and he—I—Remus—“

“Easy, Pat-Pat,” Remus soothes, cupping his own hands firmly around his own mug, “copy me, see? Hold your mug, feel how warm it is.”

Patton’s hands tremble as he does as Remus suggests, closing his eyes as the tears fall down his face. Remus watches anxiously as Patton starts to sob, quickly reaching for the box of tissues.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs when Patton tries to apologize, “you’re okay, you’re here with me now, no one’s gone hurt you here. I’m right here, not a single thing is getting past that door.”

“I thought he was my f-friend.”

“He’s a piece of garbage.”

“B-but what if I hurt him?”

Remus swallows his rage and tries to ask a question. Shit, he wishes he could ask Logan what to do. “Do you think he’s actually hurt, or was he just reacting like that so you would stay?”

“S-so I would s-stay—so I would stay.” Patton’s face contorts. “Why—why would he lie about that? Why would he u-use that?”

“Some people are assholes.”

When Patton doesn’t even protest to Remus’s language, Remus takes a deep breath.

“Do you want to stay here tonight, Pat? I won’t mind, I can have the couch made up for you, it’s the same pullout, you can have my bed.”

Patton shakes his head. “Your bed is your bed.”

“Yeah, but you’re more upset than I am right now, and the couch isn’t actually bad.”

Patton just sets his jaw stubbornly.

“Okay, okay, but you get to pick what blankets you want, deal?”

“D-deal.”

“Hey,” Remus murmurs, reaching out his hand, “fist-bump? Just to know I’m here?”

Patton’s fist gently touches his and Remus smiles.

“There you go.”

“R-Remus?”

“What’s up?”

“Can I have another hot chocolate?”

“You can have whatever you want.”

+1.

Remus wakes up the next morning and pads quietly into the kitchen. He sets the kettle to boil and glances at the sleeping Patton on his couch.

Breakfast. Breakfast first. Then plot murder.

What does Patton like for breakfast? Patton likes pop tarts. Did Ro eat all of them last time he was over here? He better fucking not have. Ah, there they are. Sweet. Like Patton. Get it? Shut up and fuck off, he’s hilarious.

As soon as the kettle clicks off and the toaster pops up, Remus grabs a mug and fills it with water, adding a tea bag and a generous amount of honey. Then he sets another mug of just hot water aside and sets the pop tarts on the plate as he puts a few slices of bread inside.

“R’mus?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Remus calls, coming over to the couch, “how’re you doing this morning? You want breakfast? I made pop tarts.”

“Ooh, pop tarts,” Patton slurs, rolling over and clumsily shoving his glasses on his face, “that sounds good.”

“I got tea for you too.”

“You’re the best.”

Remus walks back over to the counter, reaching for the plate—

Only to knock over the mug of boiling water all over his hand.

“Fuck!”

“Lang—Remus, your poor hand!”

Well, Patton’s definitely more awake now, as he hurries around the end of the counter to tenderly cup Remus’s burned hand in his.

“Come on, under the sink, now.”

Remus hisses through his teeth as Patton turns the sink to cold and holds his hand under the water, quickly pulling the first-aid kit and rooting around for whatever he’s looking for.

“Just hold it there for a little longer,” he instructs, watching worriedly as Remus takes his lip between his teeth to try and avoid crying out, “and it’s okay, Remus, that hurt.”

“I know, I know, it’s not the first time I’ve done it.”

“I know.” Patton comes over, looking at his hand. “It doesn’t look too bad, does it hurt very much, still?”

“It’s more a sting, but it’s going away.”

“Good. Leave your hand under there for a few more minutes and then we’ll see.”

“Sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s okay.”

“Thanks,” Remus mumbles, “your, uh, pop tarts are over there.”

Patton looks. “Thanks, Remus.”

“’S no problem. I was just worried Roro ate all of them.”

Patton laughs, but then he looks back at Remus, face softening. “No, thank you for…everything. You’re…you’re an actual friend, you know that?”

“Aw, shucks,” he mumbles as his nose reddens, “someone’s gotta look out for you when you’re being too nice for your own good.”

Patton giggles and taps it. “You do it very well.”

“…are you sure it’s just my hand that got burned? ‘Cause my face feels really warm.”

“You’re just blushing.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I do, it’s very cute.”

“I am not cute!”

“Aww.”

“Patton!”

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne@queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer @insanitori @mavenmush

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #remus sanders #remus and james

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prydon · 3 years ago

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hey so feel free to ignore this, but i was wondering if you had any advice for newish writers? for context, i’ve only written a couple like 2,000-ish word things, but i’m taking on writing a script for a big project of mine, and i’m not sure how to go about it?

how much do you plan ahead before you start writing? do you have an in depth outline with every plot point or do you just have a broad overview and see where it takes you?

ohhh that's a tough question.... i've never had any formal writing instruction (outside of english classes in school) so most of my ability just comes from having been reading and writing a lot my whole life just for fun haha, which is great and all but makes it hard to think of advice beyond just "do it a lot".

though i do also recommend reading, i swear i got 50% better at writing by accident just because i got back into reading and subconsciously picked up on stuff i liked or didn't like in the books i was consuming. especially when it comes to writing a script, i'm sure reading other work in that format would be helpful.

as for planning... it does depend on the story, but my outlines tend to just basically be a chronological bullet point list of everything i've thought of for the story, especially the major beats.

i try to at least have a plan for what every scene is going to be before i start writing a one shot or a chapter, even if that plan is just a single line, and then i tend to flesh out the outline as i think of more things. i don't think there's anything wrong with not having a 100% finished outline before you start writing the story. write down the base ideas, then flesh them out as you keep writing/thinking of things.

idk if you've read my childhood friends fic constellations, but it's the only one i have an outline on hand for lol (because i delete my outlines after i finish writing a story, alas) so here's an example of my outline from ch6 of constellations:

so yeah, not very professional but gets the job done :"D

i guess something that's notable is that i tend to write the *purpose* of a scene in my outlines. like, going into writing this chapter, i didn't plan "okay so a bunch of chorus girls are gonna see peter and start whispering about how they don't recognize him, then go up and ask his name/who he is bc they have a crush, and he'll get nervous thus prompting annie to step in and tell them he's her brother". i wrote "annie calls nureyev her brother". because the lead up to that didn't really matter and could have happened any way that i came up with while writing, the base POINT of the scene was to establish how annie now sees their relationship and that peter knows she sees it that way. that was what was important to me to have planned.

and i do think every scene should have a purpose! that's something i've learned over time. even with longform stuff, every single scene should serve a purpose to the narrative, even if that purpose is just to show character development or to give the audience a breather/a false sense of security before an intense moment. often they can serve multiple purposes! something really fun to do is trick the readers by including a moment that they think is only relevant on an emotional level, but--surprise!--is gonna be relevant on a plot level later. if you just shove a chekhov's gun into a scene, people are gonna be like "what's that doing there" and expect it to come into play later, but if you disguise it as just being for the purpose of character development then they might not notice it.

in general: set up and pay off good. if you set something up, you should probably pay it off. if you make a big moment happen, you have to have set it up. i know that seems simple but it's something that took me an embarrassingly long time to learn as a writer lol, and it's important for both big plot stuff and little character stuff.

themes are good. parallels are good. motifs are good. is there a way you can connect a scene at the end of the story to one at the beginning? have a character repeat the same thing they did in scene 1 but this time it takes on a different, deeper meaning. have a character be unable to catch their friend before they fall off a garden wall while playing in scene 2 that's passed off as a silly moment, then have them be unable to catch said friend again in scene 19 but this time their friend is falling from a radio tower. do it. be evil. people will be like "OHHH SHIT" and have the entire first section of the story be recontextualized for them upon reread.

uhhh what else... voices?? especially for a script, since they're dialogue-only, giving each character a unique voice is super important. i have it easy with this bc i usually only write fic and the characters in TPP have super unique voices to begin with that i can just copy, but i still think it's v important. if you can change which character says a line without changing the line at all and it still sounds right/in character for them, their voices probably aren't unique enough. that's not to say that every character should talk like a cartoon or smth, but i think it's helpful for them to each have their own recognizable vibe. (and a good shorthand for this can be changing how each character refers to others--by first name, by last name, by nicknames, with mocking endearments or with honorifics?)

that's pretty much all i can think of rn and i'm not sure any of it is useful at all but there you go aisfhuiasfh. and tbh i just appreciate that you respect my opinion enough on this subject to reach out haha!

#asks #anonymous #i do not really feel qualified to talk about this but i had fun lol

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years ago

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ahh you're one of my fav writers and I'm so happy you've reached over 3k!!! for the follower celebration thing could I request Javier pena x Fem!reader and the prompt thingy number 15 ! maybe like they're partners and they go out for a drink after work and get super drunk? idk you're the mastermind here haha. I've been binge watching narcos and Pedro just looks so fine in it 🥰 I'm so not ready for it to end 😔 thank u so much!!! love u!!

Thank you so so much 🥺💕

Binge watching narcos is how it all starts. I’m telling you... 😂

And the prompt.... I don’t even know how this got so out of hand lol

It’s been one long fucking week. A long week with nothing that was bringing you closer to getting Escobar. It seemed like days seemed to fade into weeks and into months in a blink of an eye and there was nothing you could about it.

So Javier like the saint he tried to make you believe (he hadn’t been able to keep a straight face) he was, took you out to get some drinks.

That’s how you found yourself on the early Saturday morning sitting at a dark table at some bar, people watching. It was way past your bedtime but you had nowhere to be the next day. Or more like later that day. You hated the taste of whiskey yet Javi had made you taste some of his, before he got you some fruity beverage that had made your head spin after the third.

“You know what I miss Javi?” you slurred, emptying your drink in one go. You looked at him, seeing him raise his left eyebrow in question.

“I miss having my head empty. I want to wake up in the morning and not having my first thought be that I’m miserable because there’s people fucking dying out here while I had my 3 hours of sleep.”

He only nodded.

“You have to search something that makes you forget,” he said and you snorted.

“You mean like fucking my way through the city?”

“If that’s what helps you,” he shrugged yet there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite name.

“You forget that I can’t do that. I’m not a man. It’s hard to be taken seriously around here anyways. If I’d be labeled the DEA slut I could just pack my things and leave.”

“Fuck them,” he hissed and you actually had to laugh.

“You’re too good to me Javier Peña,” you smiled, leaning back in your seat. You saw him shook his head.

“I’m really not,” he brought his glass to his lips before he got up and walked over to the bar, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The sad truth was that you were head over heels with Javier. And the longer you spent time alone with him, without anyone around, the more you felt let lose and not like the world was suffocating you.

“I got you some water and some crackers. Your head is gonna explode if you don’t hydrate.” Javi was so close as he leaned down setting the pitcher of water down in front of you.

“See? You are too good to me,” and before you could stop yourself you kissed his cheek before he could walk away from you. He stopped to look at you and your eyes grew wide as you noticed what you’d done. He only gulped before he turned and sat down on his seat.

You reached for a cracker, emptying a big glass of water, ignoring the way he looked at you.

“You know...”, he grabbed his newly filled glass of whiskey and pulled his chair closer to yours. “We could find something to clear your mind.”

“Yeah?” you laughed, he only nodded.

“Yeah. Like getting shitfaced every week. You’d have to practice though. You’re a light weight,” he teased.

“Pffft,” you huffed, elbowing him lightly in his side. He was so close. He smiled at you.

“No I’m serious. I need you here to get Escobar. And I’ll do whatever it takes to help you help me.”

“Anything?” you gasped. He only nodded and you could see how serious he was in his eyes.

“God Javi why are you so nice to me?” you groaned. “How am i supposed not to fall more in love with you when you look at me like that?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop your drunk brain from closing your mouth. Your eyes widened and you were ready for the floor to open up to swallow you.

He was quiet and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Maybe he didn’t hear you. And because you were drunk and it didn’t make any sense you got up from your seat.

“You wanna dance, Javi?” you asked, still not looking at him. You didn’t wait for him either as you walked to the dance floor.

Deciding to dance the awkwardness away you just let loose. Singing loudly until you felt hands in your hips. Turning around you looked into Javier’s eyes as he brought you closer.

“You’re drunk and that’s the only reason I’m telling you you this,” he whispered in your ear as he brought you closer to his chest, swinging the both of you slowly. “You are the best thing that could have happened to me even if I don’t show it. You’re the most important thing to me, honey.” You closed your eyes as these words registered in your brain.

The song stopped and you looked up at him just when he leaned down, softly kissing your forehead. Shivering you breathed out, his lips lingering on your skin.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

***

Your felt like you had been run over by a train when you blinked your eyes open in the morning.

“Fuck me.” You whispered to yourself as you slowly pushed yourself up to sit on the bed. The curtains at the window were closed making you frown. You always forgot to do that. There was enough light to just make out the bottle of water on your bedside table and a package of aspirin.

You didn’t know if you suddenly had some kind of fucked up fairy godmother but you didn’t complain when you grabbed both.

You secretly hoped you would have forgotten everything that you’ve said last night but you didn’t. You didn’t forget one fucking thing. Groaning you let your head fall back when you heard something in your living room,

It took you more time than you would like to admit to yourself to get out of bed and walk to your closed bedroom door. Maybe it was some Narco. At this point you wouldn’t even fight him to make the pounding in your head stop. Instead you saw Javi sitting on your couch, his head hanging low in between his shoulders. Nervously sucking your lip in you slowly walked over. Even though you felt like dying, you needed answers.

If he had heard you walk over he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” you whispered. Slowly he tilted his head up until he looked at you.

“You weren’t supposed to remember that “ he whispered back. You just looked at him, waiting.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked you. Slowly you nodded. You felt his hand grab yours as he came to stand in front of you.

“If we do this, if you want this. Us...” he whispered and you looked up at him. “I’m bad at this stuff.”

You smiled a little.

“You’re already so much better than I am Javi.”

He leaned down, his arms coming around you to grab you as he picked you up, making you giggle as you crossed your legs around his waist.

“I fucking love you,” he smiled before he kissed you.

#follower celebration #javier peña #fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #pedro pascal #Javier peña x reader

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80s-roger · 5 years ago

Text

Flirty & Insistent

Pairing: 70s!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

note: female reader's ethnicity will not affect the person who reads it. She's just greek and she already has a name but the POV will be in second person.

also, i won’t post smuts/series as often as i did until next month, due to uni’s exams period. but i’ll reblog and stuff, u kno. I’ll work in the meanwhile your requests xx love you all

ps i worked hard on this one, i hope you like it as much as i did. feedback will be massively appreciated.

requested by anonymous:

"Plss write something smutty about roger being a massive flirt and being soo cheeky the reader(after trying acting indifferent and unimpressed) eventually gives in to the temptation of letting him have his way with her?? 💕💕 "

masterlist // dialogue prompts

summary: you left your country a decade ago to study in the UK and after graduating you established in Mallorca, Spain to work as a mixologist. That summer night, you're working for a party arranged by Queen's management to celebrate their "A Day At The Races" era success. The blonde drummer notices you fixing drinks with confidence and doesn't lose the chance to flirt with you. He's just trying too hard because you play it uninterested until he has his way with you.

word count: 3,933

warnings: surface sex, slow burn (becauase they were talking a lot before, idk if it really is a slow burn tho)

A huge party was taking place in Mallorca, with the famous rock band Queen being the main guests of the event. You were one of the bartenders so all you had to do that night was fixing drinks for every person until they'd be shitfaced. The preparations were ready: the event was hosted at the beachside, opposite the calm waves and the golden sand. The sunset was magical to stare at, ready to welcome the bright moon. You had a moment to appreciate it before guests would come at any moment. It was the only thing that reminded you of your ex without feeling angsty about it; you gotta admit you didn't break up with good terms. It was toxic, yet heartbreaking. You loved that man but he left after cheating on you. It's been half a year and you needed to give yourself a break from dating and making out regardless of how social your job is and how much flirt you've received.

The guests arrived, minute by minute they'd get from fifty to hundred. Many people were coming to your counter to order drinks and cocktails. Beautiful women and attractive men would try to flirt with you but turned them down politely saying while you're working you can't do otherwise so they respected it. All these people were actually invited by Queen, their management and the entire record company. They were all celebrating Queen's "A Day At The Races" success and certainly the band which were yet to be seen until midnight.

You were working your ass for a couple of hours now until the band showed up. You could tell by the huge welcoming. The applause, the cheers and definitely women cajoling over them. Here they were standing in the centre of attention, thanking everyone for supporting them and buying their records. Their music was playing at the stereo and you couldn't prevent yourself from jamming to their songs.

When their speech was over, everyone was free to do what they wanted so your bar counter was full again with people chatting and drinking. You saw the entire fucking band coming to your place, obviously for an order. You tried to stay calm because hands-off, you liked their music and fangirled a lot when you saw them live last year in London with your boyfriend.

"Hello beautiful, can I have some Moet & Chandon, please? I really need to celebrate!" Freddie spoke first, carrying a wide smile on his face.

"Sure." You kindly accepted his offer.

"I'd like the same with Freddie." Brian interrupted when you moved behind to grab the expensive bottle and open it.

"So do I." John added and you nodded to grab three glasses, for now.

"And you?" You turned your gaze to the blonde handsome drummer who was already checking you out, focusing especially on your face.

"What do you suggest?" He asked with his eyes being totally flirty.

"Ah, darling, just give us the bottle. Roger is kind of undecided when it comes to drinks." Freddie felt the weird vibe growing between Roger and you. John and Brian giggled, looking whether at Roger or you.

"Eh, our waiter will do it for you. Just sit at your table and he'll take care of you." You kindly warned and he laughed.

"Oh, alright then love. We'll wait for our bottle." He laughed and left with his bandmates, leaving Roger and you alone.

"So? What do you suggest?" Roger turned his gaze back at your eyes.

"What do you feel like drinking? Something sweet, strong, alcohol-free?" You asked trying to help him but he was certainly not trying to find what to drink. He was clearly trying to flirt with you.

"Something to keep me up all night, I guess. But don't make me feel dizzy." He put on a crooked smile and hell, he was attractive as fuck. He knew how to play.

"Right, how does a mojito sound?" You recommended.

"Sounds nice and local." He smiled and you turned around to grab the ingredients. "Are you local? 'Cause your accent doesn't sound British to me." He asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Eh no, I am from the Mediterranean area though." You laughed after turning again to him.

"Italian?" He guessed.

"Greek." You answered.

"Oh, I've been to Greece twice." He started.

"Really? When?" You turned your gaze surprised. You had no idea he has come to Greece for holidays.

"Two years ago I was with my ex-girlfriend, in Santorini. The sunset there is amazing. And the next year I went with John and Brian to Crete. We needed a dose of some Mycenaean civilisation. Thankfully we weren't noticed by fans or anyone else. We were clearly there for tourism." He explained. You were impressed he's seen your country, visited two of the many islands your country has.

"Well, we had some political issues when you guys came to Greece. We were recovering from the junta and had some important historical issues by the end of 1974 so I doubt they'd run behind you, no offence." You laughed while fixing his drink.

"Oh, that's bad. But I understand. How come you're here in Mallorca being a bartender?" He asked and leaned closer to you. There was a nice conversation going on.

"Before junta ruled my country, I was sent to England to study because my parents thought I would be privileged. Now you see me in Mallorca because I work here and besides, I wanted to live somewhere that reminds me of Greece. Studying abroad has the privilege of learning a new culture, a new way of life and so on. Which is so wrong for the locals back home." You explained and cut a slice of lemon before having it ready for him.

"Wait, by saying it's wrong, you mean that..." his brain stopped working for a second trying to understand what you meant.

"Patriarchy is the keyword. They want women to get married at 18 and start a family. But obviously, women have to stay home." You were triggered at your words and internally thanked your parents for giving you the chance to go abroad.

"Cheers to your parents then. I wouldn't get the chance to meet you tonight." He was impressed by your short storytime. "How do I say bottoms up in Greek?" He laughed after you placed him his drink.

"It's pronounced áspro páto." You smiled after saying a Greek word. It must have been a year since you last spoke Greek. You haven't visited Greece for a long time. You found yourself in Mallorca. It's spiritually free and not restricting.

"So, I haven't asked you yet. What's your name?" Roger asked after drinking. He made an oddly satisfying grimace which meant he liked your drink.

"Oh, it's Ellen." You answered. His gaze was literally focused on you the entire time. He wouldn't give up this easy.

"So Ellen, make yourself a drink. It's a treat for you." He offered and you kindly accepted. It's not bad, you've been offered many times. Besides, you needed a drink to stay energised.

"Thank you, Mr Taylor." You thanked him and then his smile vanished.

"If you want us to be in good terms, it's gonna be Roger." His hand was warning you.

"Thank you, Roger." You slightly smiled. "It's just that..." you stopped and checked around if your boss is nearby. "We are obliged to speak to our guests in plural." You whispered and he nodded. Possibly understood the situation.

"So what are you doing later?" He asked after swallowing a sip of his mojito.

"We're cleaning the mess and we're heading homes." You said after drinking a shot. A treated drink.

"I'm not talking about your colleagues. I'm talking about you." He was straightforward. He was so into you, it was obvious.

"Oh well, I'll clean up the mess and I'm heading home." You changed the point of view trying to cut off his flirty attitude.

"When's that time? Dawn?" He guessed.

"Probably at the morning. It's a Queen party, I doubt people will leave before the sun rises." You rolled your eyes sarcastically.

"So..." he started. "Have you been listening to our music?" He asked.

"Yes, since your first album. It was brilliant for a newly formed band." You said with a huge smile on your face and he appreciated it. He appreciated that you didn't fangirl in front of him, having that humble and uninterested attitude. He liked feeling like a predator trying to catch his bait.

"What's your favourite song of A Day At The Races?" He asked. He likes talking to people about his music.

"Definitely Somebody To Love." You affirmed, feeling passionate about your answer, that it seemed you could relate your existence to this song.

"Oh, it's a band's fave too. Well, you relate to this song, don't you?" He asked and his body was closer to yours. The counter was the only thing beside you.

"I guess I do." You looked down for a moment, thinking of your ex but his hand touched your jaw trying to lift you up. Your eyes were looking into his and this is how you noticed how blue they eventually are. An ocean.

"Is it about a guy? I'm sure he doesn't deserve you." He tried to cheer you up with his soft smile.

"It's not that. It's..." you sighed. "Well, this is getting too personal." You pulled back trying to stop the situation. But he wouldn't abandon his try.

"Do you have any specific lyric of the song you relate the most?" He asked.

"Yes, there is that one: I've spent all my years in believing you but I just can't get no relief, Lord." You kind of explained the situation within a couple of lyrics. "He cheated on me. He had the audacity of saying it to my face and left without looking back or apologising." You nearly tore but tried to keep it for yourself. This is getting too personal and you're opening your heart to a stranger that you feel comfortable with. Maybe because you've been listening to him and his bandmates for years and you've seen him live too.

"You know..." he looked down for a second trying to find the words. "At least he was honest. He could keep you for his entertainment if things didn't work with the girl he possibly slept with." He tried to wake you, but he was right.

"I don't even know how long he was cheating on me. However, I did notice a weird behaviour in the last couple of months we were together." You answered.

"Be happy that you're not with him anymore. He took your love for granted. This is not how it works." He said with his eyes still focused on yours.

"You know, we once saw you live. Last year." You tried to avoid talking about your ex the entire time.

"Oh! That's great! Did I look nice?" He joked and he gained a laugh from you. That made him feel nice.

"Definitely, you always look nice." You took a moment to check him out. And hell, he looks and smells so nice.

"I'm flattered." He smiled and you pulled back again to do your job. You could see your boss staring at you. That wasn't good.

"You better get going, my boss is supervising us." You said and he got the hint. You were as cold as you could be.

"Sure, will I see you later?" He asked and stood up from his chair, ready to leave.

"No. I'll be too tired by then." You answered and he was saddened by your reply. He thought he had you. His flirting wasn't sufficient. Which means he had to try again.

He left and walked to his bandmates, they were there talking about their success until Roger joined their conversation but it changed as soon as he sat on the sofa next to Brian.

"So, how did it go Rog?" Freddie asked and they were all ready to hear.

"She seems so uninterested and hard to get, I have to try again." He took out one of his cigarettes, ready to smoke and think.

"Ah, your type of girls Roger." Brian laughed. "You like feeling a hunter don't you?" He added.

"Of course I do. But she recently broke up and I reckon she's still into him. How do women's brains work anyway?" He asked, frustrated.

"Oh darling, I don't see her as stuck with her ex as you think she is. She's been avoiding your flirting because she works here." Freddie had a point and John nodded.

"Just wait for her shift to end and make a move. She noticed you were flirting with her." John suggested and they all agreed to it.

"It's gonna take hours. She said it's possible for the party to end after dawn. She also has to clean up with her colleagues." Roger explained and turned his gaze back to you. But you were already looking at him and when you noticed, you turned back to your counter.

"Fine, then do it now," Freddie advised and Roger looked at you considered. "Wait where's she going?" Freddie asked after noticing your figure leaving your position.

"James, would you mind taking my place for a moment? I really need to use the bathroom." You called for your colleague who politely came to your counter.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll be here as long as you need." He smiled and you left for the bathroom to take a very needed pee.

"Shall I go after her?" Roger asked.

"Fucking go!" Freddie pushed Roger to run after you no matter how awkward it would be.

You walked in the staff-only bathroom, rushing to the toilet. After drinking a few shots, you needed to pee like a champion. When you pushed the flusher you unlocked your door and the very first thing you saw, was Roger standing at the wall.

"What the hell are you doing here, get out!" You were shocked by his presence and he wouldn't move.

"This is the only chance I have with you right now. Your boss can't see us." He came closer to you.

"No, but he'll get suspicious!" You tried to pull back until you reached the counter. Now you were sandwiched between Roger and the counter. There was no space between you. His face was coming closer to yours.

"I locked the door in any case." His nose tickled yours and his hands placed you on top of the counter, sitting now and having his bulge, against your area. That feeling is the shit.

"I work here, I can't..." you tried to refuse but the feeling of getting fucked couldn't stop you.

"I can't be in this toilet too, but here I am." His lips touched yours with passion and lust. His arms wrapped your waist and lowered down to your arse, squeezing it gently and your hands moved to his neck and his cheeks, trying to hug most of it. You haven't gotten kissed nor fucked for a long time.

Living on the west side of Europe had given you many opportunities. The situation you're currently now couldn't even be referred to Greek religious people as a joke. They'd freak out and tell you crap like you ashamed your honour, your family and your future husband. Your parents were too open-minded to let you live in West Europe and live your life as you wanted to. You had sex with your boyfriend at nineteen, with no need to be your first wedding night, you wear shorts on summers because you feel like it and now you're having a one night stand with a rockstar of a band you like and it's never gonna be the same anymore. You played it hard-to-get because you felt it was wrong. But it wasn't. It's just one more experience to add to your diary.

"Are you sure you want to do this, here?" He stopped the kiss for a second, to ask for your approval.

"Yes, but let it be fast, or I'll be in trouble." You checked at the door. "Are you certain the door's locked?" You asked.

"Yes, I am. It's just that..." he stopped.

"What?" You were scared he regretted it and he'd leave you like the mess you already are.

"I want to get more of you, but in this counter, I don't have the chance. I'll cope with it." He unbuttoned your suit while your hands tried to unzip his jeans.

"If you stay a little longer in Mallorca, you can get more of me." You winked and he smiled, thinking he has more chances with you.

"Works for me." He whispered and turned to your lips again for a passionate kiss.

He helped you with taking your suit off, now staying on your bra when your hands put his jeans down. "Mind taking your bra off?" He asked while his mouth travelled your neck, giving it soft kisses.

"I'd rather wear it..." you refused taking it off after gaining a lot of insecurities because of your ex-boyfriend. You remember him saying how small your breasts are and with that, no other man can see it. Your A-cups haven't be seen by any other man. Not even by your ex after the second time, you had sex with him.

"As you wish..." he didn't insist and pulled your skirt up, on your waist, with his bulge rubbing against your core and turning you instantly wet. "How long has it been?" He asked after noticing the humidity between your legs with his hand.

"Must be eight months. I'm out of practice." You sighed.

"Don't feel bad about it, I'll do the work. You're already wet for me. I like it." He bit his lower lip and turned to your lips again, for a deep kiss. "God, you are fat-bottomed aren't you?" He smiled between the kiss after squeezing your thighs and your small waist. "I'm starting to have a thing for greek girls." He complimented your body type and that boosted your low confidence level. With a simple move, he placed you against the mirror, taking your thong off your left leg to have clear access inside your wet area. His hand pulled his erected penis out of his black underwear, ready to thrust inside you.

"You better start before I cum untouched." You exhaled and balanced yourself at the counter.

He smirked and trusted inside you, feeling him completely weird inside you, maybe because you haven't had sex for more than half a year. The sensation was amazing and penetration was always the thing that released you from thoughts. His hands squeezed your thighs and each thrust was a try to pull you closer to his pelvis. You couldn't stop breathing heavily. You had to be quiet and so did he. It was a staff-only bathroom and the key was turned horizontally so no-one could break in with a spare key.

"Oh god, this is amazing..." you moaned at every pleasuring wave while your hands played with his blonde hair.

"Fuck, yes, you're so tight and wet for me." He tightened his teeth as he exhaled into your ear.

His thrusts were giving you the orgasm you haven't had for a long time. It was the tension between you, that made it more passionate but fast enough to make you come earlier than you thought. Soft whimperings coming from your mouth sent him the message that you were close enough and so was he. You could tell by his sharp thrusts, getting smoother and sudden. His gaze was focused on your eyes. Your sight was getting blurry and your legs began to shake; it happens when you reach your orgasm and it feels terrific.

"Ah, God..." you moaned and tilted your head behind, where the mirror is. "That was so refreshing." You gasped after wearing your thong again.

"Ain't gonna lie, but this WC shag was the best I had." He laughed and wore his underwear and jeans again.

"I can't make comparisons to it, I've only had two boyfriends in my life and this is my first time fucking a stranger at my workplace's restroom." You buttoned your suit and stood up from the counter to fix yourself.

"Stranger?" He asked confused.

"Stranger, Roger. I mean, I do know you're a rockstar, a member of my favourite band and I've seen you live once but it won't change the fact you're a stranger. I know you as a persona, not as a person. You get it?" You tried to explain how it feels.

"Oh, I see." He nodded. "Will I see you again? I want to know you as a person if you want that too." He suggested.

"Sure." You kissed his cheek gently, letting him take the lead. You wanted him to make the move. "I'll just walk out from the WC first and make sure no one sees you when you get out." You said and walked through the door until someone tried to get in. A knock on the door was heard.

"Ellen, are you still in there?" It was James.

"Yes, I'm coming." You internally panicked and hinted at Roger to hide in the toilet. "Hey James, is everything alright?" You asked after opening the door.

"Yes, I wanted to check on you. You were absent for a quarter. Are you okay? You look like a mess." James liked you for a long period of time but he wasn't your type. He's way too cute for your standards.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I just felt a little dizzy and wanted to wash my face with cold water. I needed it." You lied after checking your face in the mirror. You were red as a tomato.

"Oh, fine then. You should get back to your post. The boss has been looking for you." He pointed outside and you felt really bad about it. Your boss suspects you since the moment you started chatting with the blonde man hiding in the toilet.

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute." You closed the door to his face and rushed to the toilet where Roger was hiding.

"You're a cute little liar, aren't you?" He teased and gave you a little slap on your butt cheek.

"I won't be anymore if my boss finds out." You rushed, trying to leave the toilet.

"How will I reach you?" He asked trying to learn your phone number.

"Just come at my post and I'll hand you a drink." You declared and left the room, heading fastly at your post. You stared at the Queen members, looking at you all smiles and winks. They probably knew what happened a quarter ago.

You fixed another drink for Roger, trying to look calm and relaxed. But you weren't. You were tense and it could be seen. Two minutes later, Roger came to your counter again with a crooked smile on his face, waiting for the drink. He was looking whether at his bandmates or you. There was absolute silence.

"Here's your drink." You smiled and handed his drink with a small paper around the glass. He carefully grabbed the paper so it couldn't be seen and walked away, heading to the balcony.

He grabbed the paper, unfolded it and there was your phone number and a note in it: "thanks for giving me a good time Rog"

He smirked at your note and placed it in his pocket, anticipating the moment he'd call you.

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #Roger Meddows Taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x female reader #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor x you #roger taylor fic #one shot

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babineni · 5 years ago

Text

The Path Not Traveled (part 2 of 2)

Sooo... ages ago I started writing my own take on Edér’s personal quest in Deadfire and I finally managed to kick my own butt to finish it. Here’s roughly 3800 words of... whatever this is.

Part 1 here:

Gaura took a deep breath as she left the Temple of Gaun, trying to clear the oppressive smell of mold and incense filling the sanctum. Just as she was about to take another, her nostrils were struck by a sweet and earthy scent she knew well. Edér exhaled a puff of smoke when he felt her gaze on him and winked at her, trying convey some semblence of confidence. But Gaura still saw that he bit on the stem of his pipe slightly harder than he usually did.

'So... To the Gullet, then?' The Watcher let out a tired sigh. 'Wonderful.'

'At least this time we won't have to scour the place for decades old clues,' Edér tried to cheer themselves up. 'Though, at this point... wouldn't even be surprised, if we did.'

'This does feel a bit familiar,' Gaura added. If she had to be honest with herself, this was an understatement. The longer the search went on the stronger she felt it: that Edér once again gambled his peace and happiness on something that he would ultimately fail to reach. 'I just hope... Can you promise me something, Edér?'

'What?'

'If this reunion doesn't go the way you'd like... Can you promise me that you'd still come away with some measure of peace?' The Watcher gave the farmer an apoligetic look for her request.

He let smoke escape his mouth slowly, frowning, carefully processing his friend's words.

'Dunno. I'd just prefer if we left with what we came here for.'

'And what would that be?' Gaura crossed her arms.

'I told you...'

'I know what you told me. But you've gotta be more specific than that.'

Edér glared at the Watcher for a moment. Then he emptied his half-smoked pipe, cursing under his breath, and put it away.

'Y'know how I been rebuilding Dyrford for these few years? Was trying to make it a normal village. I wanted it to be the kinda place that really felt like the home we had before the war. In a way, I was... turning it into something like Gilded Vale used to be,' he rubbed a sore spot on the back of his neck. 'But it didn't feel the same.'

'I can think of a few reasons why you might've felt that way.'

'Yeah,' Edér chuckled somewhat bitterly, 'I do make it sound like I was turning Dyrford into something it wasn't but... that's not what really happened. And that's not what kept gnawing at me,' he averted his gaze from the Watcher almost as if he was ashamed. She waited for him to continue but the words did not come.

'It was you,' she guessed. 'You realized that... even if you managed to bring your old life back somehow,' Gaura cossed her arms and sighed sympathetically, 'you no longer would've had a place in it.'

'Dunno 'bout that,' he replied, 'haven't really felt I had a place anywhere for 15 years or so. I got used to it.' The veteran stayed quiet for a few moments. Gaura couldn't tell if he was pondering her words to find some new revelation about himself or if he was wondering if she spoke out of experience. 'But... I dunno maybe you're right.'

'And how does Elafa come into the picture?'

'She's...' Edér stopped himself to choose the words that followed cautiosly. 'She's pretty much the only person from Gilded Vale who knew me before the war and didn't see me anything other than who I was when I came back. If... If I'm gonna have a family one day... If I'm to give them a life free from the hate and violence that drove her away in the first place... Then I need her,' he let his head hang for a moment before he looked Gaura in the eye, his eyes full of clarity and sincerity. 'Because I can barely remember what that life was like.'

The Watcher's heart sunk and yet those words still left her with discomfort. 'So you want to move forward by going backwards and you just hope Elafa would remember your past for you?!'

'It's hardly fair, I know...'

'And it's really unhealthy.'

'I know, but I can't help it,' he stepped closer to her as he pleaded, 'and I'll try my hardest to make her happy in turn, I swe-'

Gaura raised a hand to silence him. 'It's not me you need to convince. I promised I would help.'

Edér let out a sigh of relief.

'But you gotta fill me in on what exactly went down between the two of you.'

'Yeah... Sure,' the farmer nodded somewhat awkwardly. Gaura gestured towards the stairway running beside the Temple of Gaun and leading to the bridge to the Gullet.

When the Defiant arrived at Neketaka, Edér asked the Watcher to go with him alone. Elafa was a suspicious sort, he said, and as strange as it felt to travel without her companions, Gaura was now grateful to be left alone to process Edér's recollections. He told her of all the times he asked Elafa to be more than just friends sharing a bed on occasion, and of all the times she said no. He told her of the day his parents left the Dyrwood and how he found himself back with his old Eothasian flock - or better to say what was left of it. He told her of the days leading up to the Purges in Gilded Vale. He told her of the Reaping, his reunion with Elafa, her Hollowborn son. He told her of the offer he made once again, and how Elafa said no. He told her of Elafa's escape. He told her of the offer he made for the last time and how, for the last time, she said no.

'I'm really sorry, Edér, for both of you,' Gaura knew how great an effort it was for her friend to open up to her like this, and she knew such a flimsy show of sympathy was probably an inadequate response.

Edér didn't seem to think the same. 'Don't be,' he said with a rueful smile. 'Should've told you about this a long time ago, I reckon. I just... Never been good at this sorta thing.'

'It's fine, I get it,' the Watcher swallowed thinking of all things she kept from Edér. All the fears she couldn't afford to show, the wear and tear she had to hide, the uncertainty that once defined her every waking moment but for the first time she wasn't sure how to adapt to it. She didn't know how long she stayed quiet as they walked beside one another, crossing the bridge that seemed endless.

'Promise me something, Edér,' Gaura broke the silence eventually. 'Promise me... that you stop looking to others to grant you peace. There are... things to which the world doesn't have an answer, but you still might find it within you. Promise me you'll start looking for those answers within.'

The Watcher looked to her friend, whose poorly concealed and uncharacteristic anxiety was now replaced with open worry.

'You don't think you can convince her, do you?'

'Even if I can, do you think things with her will turn out the way you want them to? That you can go back to the days before the war?'

Edér didn't respond. He looked at the bridge ahead and Gaura glimpsed a look on his face that she only ever saw once: five years before on the fields of ClÎaban Rilag, when she failed to give him the answers he desperately needed.

'I'm really sorry,' she apologized once more. She wasn't sure if she did it for the past or the present.

'Yeah, so am I,' he took out his pipe but this time his movements reflected resignation rather than just nerves. 'I know you mean well, and twenty years ago I would've been real grateful for the advice... Hel, I'm kinda grateful for it now... It's just that...'

'I know. It hurts like Hel. But with Eothas out there, doing who knows what... It's probably not the best idea to make anyone an anchor,' the Watcher scratched her chest right above her chimes.

Edér chuckled. 'Yeah, I definitely needed to hear that twenty years ago.'

'Ugh, twenty years ago... I didn't even have my horns yet,' the Watcher remembered. 'I was just a squishy ball of flame.'

'You still are.'

Gaura elbowed him in the side, prompting him to laugh. She couldn't help but laugh with him. None of them said anything for a moment but they both knew they needed that laugh. Then the moment passed.

'Can't promise anything,' Edér said. 'I was told I shouldn't make anchors.'

'Wow. I guess, I should be glad you listened.'

The sun was already setting by the time they reached the Gullet. Gaura wasn't surprised to see all the Dawnstars walking around aimlessly. The Rauataians either stayed at Hasongo or left for the Brass Citadel. The Children of the Dawnstars, however, only had the Temple of Gaun to themselves, and when that filled up, there was only one option left.

'Let's start with The Hole,' the Watcher suggested, 'if she isn't there, we'll check the Sanctuary. If she isn't there, we'll start asking around.'

Edér, however, wasn't listening. His gaze was fixed on a lanky boy with brown hair and freckles so prominent that Gaura could see them even from a distance. The farmer swallowed hard, then approached him. The Watcher had to skip to keep up with his long and determined strides.

'Hey, kid,' he called out. When the boy met Edér's gaze, he stopped in his tracks and whatever confidence he had disappeared in a second.

'Fine day to you,' the boy spoke cautiously. He took a double take at the flames framing Gaura's head then forced his gaze back to Edér. ' Is... there something I can help you with?'

'I'm looking for someone. Uh... She's my age, about this tall, always wears her hair in braids, she's got freckles just like yours...' Edér's words replaced the look of caution with a look suspicion on the boy's face, but he didn't seem to notice. 'Her name is Elafa. Elafa Maesy.'

'What do you want with her?'

'Nothing bad, I'm an old friend of hers,' Edér slightly lifted his empty palms.

'I know all of mother's friends and you don't look like any of them,' the boy crossed his arms.

'Oh...' the veteran froze for a fraction of a moment. 'You really are her son... Just as I thought,' the boy raised an eyebrow at Edér, prompting him to continue. 'I've known her before you were born. Has she never mentioned me? Edér? Teylegc? From Gilded Vale?'

The boy's eyes widened slightly and stepped forward, interested. 'She mentioned Gilded Vale before, but only like it was a slip of the tongue. I could never get her to talk about it.'

'Yeah... she didn't exactly leave under pleasant circumstances.'

The boy frowned. 'And how do I know she wasn't running from you?'

'Well, you don't,' Edér scratched the back of his head. 'Huh, you've got her spirit.'

The boy's frown deepened.

'You just need to trust us,' Gaura said. 'And we're a trustworthy bunch, just ask anyone here.'

The boy cocked his head at the Watcher and watched her silently for a short while. Then he gasped as if a realization dawned on him.

'You're the Captain of that Dyrwoodan ship! The Defiant, was it? Everyone is talking about you here.'

'We might've helped out a bit,' Gaura gave him a knowing smile.

'I... suppose... you're not here to start trouble then, the boy turned back to Edér. 'We're renting a room in The Hole. Mother is probably there, she doesn't like being out in such a crowd.'

'But the Gullet is always crowded,' the Watcher added.

'Exactly,' the boy smiled at her, satisfied with his display of wit.

'Just one more thing: what's your name, kid?' Edér asked.

'Bearn.'

'How old are you, Bearn?'

'I'm turning 17 soon, why?'

Edér's expression darkened as he made his calculations.

'Then... you're too young... Never mind, thanks for your help,' he rushed past the boy, leaving him dumbfounded.

'Uh, I gotta catch up to him,' Gaura gestured towards her companion. 'We'll be docked at Queen's Berth for the next couple of days, if you wanna chat. Bye.' She quickly said her goodbyes and gently pushed her way through the crowd slowly forming around her.

Edér was already talking to the innkeeper by the time the Watcher reached him. He took a deep breath and reached for his pipe, but just as he was about to light it, he stopped. He stared at nothing in particular, then he put away the pipe and looked at Gaura.

'You might get yelled at, so... Sorry about that in advance.'

'I'm used to it, but thanks,' the Watcher replied with a reassuring smile. Edér made his best effort at returning it then he stood up to guide her to Elafa's room. 'Ready?' Gaura asked as they stood facing the plain wooden door.

'Not really,' he said as he knocked.

There was no reply.

'Elafa?' Edér called out. 'It's me, Edér. Remember me?'

Still, there was no reply, but Gaura glimpsed a shadow moving under the door. She turned to Edér who gave her a nod - he noticed it too.

'I know, it's been a while but uh... Got some business here in the Deadfire and I thought I'd come and see you. Been to Hasongo too. I uh... I'm really sorry for what happened there.'

The door still didn't open but Elafa was standing right behind it, Gaura was sure of it.

'Maybe she can see us, too,' she whispered to Edér.

'Oh, right,' he aswered before he turned his attention back to the door. 'I'm here with a friend. Best one I made in years. No need to worry about her, she can be trusted.'

For a moment there was silence and then...

'You still believe in friendship? After everything that's happened?'

Edér was left speechless for a moment. The Watcher saw about a dozen different emotions flashing across his face, finally setting on a mixture of relief and tenderness.

'I missed your voice.'

Elafa hesitated with her answer.

'You didn't answer my question.'

'Sorry, I got a bit... Yeah, I learned to believe in it again.'

The door finally opened. However as soon as Elafa's gaze fell on the Watcher's face, she pulled out a pistol and pointed it right at her head.

'Charmed, I’m sure,' Gaura let out an exasperated sigh.

'Elafa, there's no need-'

'You're "making friends" with Magranites now?!' Elafa's voice rang with fury and old heartbreak.

'I'm not a-'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Edér asked before Gaura could protest.

'You know godsdamned well! But I never thought you would bed someone who would hunt us,' Elafa's gun wavered in front of Gaura's face. She shot a confused look at Edér who replied with an equally confused shrug.

'I think you got the wrong idea about us,' the Watcher said. 'And especially about me.'

'Is that so?' Elafa laughed bitterly. 'Then just who are you supposed to be?'

'Gaura, Captain of the Defiant, the Watcher of Caed Nua, the Herald of Berath and a friend of Edér's.'

Elafa's expression slowly softened. She turned to Edér for a moment who nodded in agreement with the Watcher. She lowered the pistol as she turned her gaze back to Gaura.

'Then... You're the one who ended the Legacy.'

'That's me. Edér helped too. A lot.'

'I was target practice for her enemies,' he joked. But Elafa didn't laugh.

'If you'd done it sooner, I'd have two sons now instead of one.'

Gaura looked away for a moment, trying to hide her guilt. This was not the first time she had to face the sorrow of a mother whose child has been taken by the Legacy, only to see their neighbors' restored. It hasn't gotten easier.

'I'm sorry I couldn't help your child. But I can help you and your other son now.'

'We're hunting Eothas now,' Edér explained. 'Whatever he's up to, we'll make sure he doesn't get to hurt you or Bearn. You have my word.'

'As well as mine.'

Elafa looked to Edér and scoffed. 'Again you're fighting our god. You really haven't changed.'

'You got tougher, though. Looks good on you,' the comment has earned him a faint smile.

'And you still make clumsy moves, I see.'

Gaura watched silently as the tension between her friend and his old flame started to relieve. She was just about to offer to leave them alone when Elafa invited them both into her room. There was barely enough space in there for two beds and a table with some stools.

'So what brings you to the sunniest spot in Neketaka?' Elafa made a poor effort at humor as they got seated.

'You, pretty much,' the Watcher answered.

Elafa blinked at her in disbelief. 'You really came down here, just to meet up? How did you even know I was here?'

'That's... a long story,' Edér added. 'But it's true. Just wanted to catch up, is all.'

Elafa stared at the farmer's hand for a few moments. Edér rubbed an old scar there when he felt her gaze on the back of his hand.

'I remember the last time we just had some catching up to do,' she said.

'Yeah, me too.'

'Didn't even matter, in the end. The babe died on the way to New Heomar. He was... too frail to handle the journey.'

Edér shifted his weight uncomfortably, and Gaura caught a glimpse of sorrow in his eyes.

'Really sorry to hear that,' he said.

Silence spread in the room, and grew more and more suffocating with each second passed. The relief the Watcher sensed earlier was gone and she again found herself wanting to leave.

'Did you ever regret it?' Edér eventually asked the question that hung heavily in the air. 'That you didn't let me come along?'

Elafa just watched him for a while, trying to figure out how to respond.

'There was one night. When the mobs took my husband. I thought back how you fought those guards to help me and my son escape. I thought... maybe you could've saved him too.'

Edér quietly acknowledged the answer and reached for his pipe. 'You mind?' he asked. Elafa shook her head. The veteran lit the pipe and took a long draw from it. The way he exhaled the smoke almost seemed like a sigh.

'So you got married.'

'Had a son, was widowed, sailed out to start over,' Elafa chuckled ruefully. 'I'm getting real good at that last bit.'

Edér kept nodding to himself. Gaura elbowed him in the side and gave him a pointed look. When he didn't seem to catch her meaning she spoke up.

'We could help you with that actually. Well... Edér could. I currently live on a sloop.'

Elafa raised an eyebrow at the Watcher. 'How so?'

'I left Gilded Vale too,' Edér finally found his voice. 'Settled down in Dyrford instead and became the mayor. We... still got a few empty plots of land. Free for anyone willing to take care of them.'

'And you think I'd want to take on that offer, huh?' Elafa said bitterly. 'Y'know when we left New Heomar, we could've gone anywhere in the world. We could've stayed in the Dyrwood, we could've stayed in the Eastern Reach. But we came here instead.'

'Guess, that's a no.'

'That, it is.'

Gaura sighed and leaned forward on her stool. 'Elafa, you left before Eothas came to Hasongo, so you probably don't know the state the outpost is in. It's... not good. Even if it was possible to rebuild everything as it was, would it not be wiser to consider your options?'

'I have considered them: I get to choose between uncertainty in a safe community or comfort surrounded by people ready to backstab me at any moment...'

'I would never let that happen, Elafa,' Edér's tone was tense but sincere.

'I know,' she smiled at him, 'but I can neither ignore nor forget what happened in the last twenty years. I'd rather face hardship here than what I've left behind.'

'So you're just gonna run?'

'And you're just gonna hold on to something that is long gone. Why do you think I refused to let you come along?' Elafa looked Edér in the eye and sighed, bracing herself. 'Edér, no matter how sweet you were... Nothing could've worked between us. Not after the war. I was willing to adapt but you... you tried so hard not to let the war change you. It was endearing but... That was it. I couldn't be like you and I couldn't take this away from you.'

'Why, that is good to know,' Edér said with gritted teeth after a few moments that felt like an eternity. 'And it would've been good to know twenty years ago too,' he stood up. 'Y'know there was a lot I was willing to do for you... There still is... '

'I can tell,' Elafa seemed strangely heartbroken as she spoke, 'which is why I think you should go.'

'Agreed.'

'But I...' Gaura wanted to protest but neither Edér nor Elafa seemed interested in what she had to say. She sighed as she stood up as well. 'You see, Caed Nua may be gone, but know that you have a place by my hearth wherever that may be. Edér's friends are my friends.'

'I can see why he likes you,' Elafa glanced at Edér leaving the room. 'Take care of him, will you.'

'Yeah and you take care too,' the Watcher flashed a quick and apologetic smile at her before she left as well.

Gaura hurried after the farmer down the hallway. She caught up to him at the base level of The Hole. He didn't seem particularly angry or sad. Just tired. 'Sorry about how things went down back there,' she approached him. 'I should've done more...'

'Hey, cut it out,' he gave her a faint half-smile. 'You've done more than enough. Guess, you were right about... Well... Everything.'

Gaura wasn't sure what else she could've said. So she embraced him without another word. Edér hugged her back, hesitantly at first, then so tightly it nearly hurt.

'Edér, you're squeezing the soul outta me.'

'Sorry about that. Lemme buy you a pint as a proper apology,' he inclined his head towards the bar.

'A pint of the swill from here? You're trying to kill me?'

The veteran managed to laugh at that. It was a half-hearted laugh at best, but it was something. Gaura could work with that. Whatever small measure of peace she could help him achieve was worth the effort.

#pillars of eternity #watcher wednesday #edér teylecg #gaura sélfolgh #oc fic: gaura #this is really all over the place but it's also the longest piece of fic I wrote in a long time #so idk #sorta proud sorta not #poe fic #Wrytinge™

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mysunfreckle · 7 years ago

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If you still need prompts to keep you sane maybe fluffy fantasy au enjoltaire? (Idk if you've seen the siren Enjolras and nymph grantaire posts but you can do something along those lines if you want it's up to you) thank you for literally everything you've written because it's amazing and thanks in advance!

I haveindeed seen (and loved!) @stopcallingmeapollo‘s myth au! Which actually made itrather a puzzle to come up with my own… But that gave me an excuse to daydreamabout folklore for days, so thank youso much anon, for your incredibly kind words as well! I hope you’ll like this

( @petalparnassee you have given me fresh Scottish lore and now look whathappened:)

Grantaireis lying on his stomach on a flat rock that rises just above sea level, his lowerhalf still comfortably in the foamy water. It’s early in the morning yet,the wisps of mist that drew from the seatowards the shore have barely dissolved. Through the faint haze that is stillleft Grantaire sees a shape approaching. It’s a black stallion and the gate of his hooves is like poetry itself. Blinking lazily Grantaire watches himapproach the shore. He is too familiar with the elegant movements and the prouddemeanour to be impressed. The cobbles on the beach skit away or are trampledunder the gleaming black hooves and the horse charges straight into the water.Grantaire doesn’t bother to watch the proud head disappear underneath thewaves. A moment later there’s a splash of water beside the rock he is restingon and two pale hands grip the edge. Montparnasse pulls himself up out of thewater, his dark hair wet and slick against his head.

“Show off,”Grantaire hums.

“Goodmorning to you too,” Montparnasse snarks. He sits down with his legs crossed.

In the greylight of morning his skin looks even paler than it is, but Grantaire knows thelighting doesn’t matter. Montparnasse will always be annoyingly beautiful.

His greyeyes are staring of into the distance. “I saw someone walking towards theshore,” he says nonchalantly.

Grantairemakes an exasperated sound. “I swear, if I have to rescue one more of your stupid victims I’m telling Jehan.”

Montparnassemakes a tutting sound. “This one isn’t really my type,” he says airily.

“That’ll bea first,” Grantaire grunts. He splashes his heavy tail in the water, makingMontparnasse glare.

He ignoresthe insult however and continues casually: “Too blonde for a start… To loud… Tointerested in you.”

Grantairegulps and nearly rolls off the rock.

Montparnasse’sdistinctive kelpie laugh sounds loud and neighing across the water.

“Enjolras is on his way here?” Grantairesplutters. “Why didn’t you just say that, you ass.”

“I wasgoing to,” Montparnasse sniffs. “You were the one that decided to be rude.” Helets himself slide smoothly off the rock and allows the waves to carry him fora moment so he can shoot his most annoying grin at Grantaire. “Good luck, seal-boy.”

He divesunder water before Grantaire can either answer or lash out at him. AnxiouslyGrantaire directs his gaze towards the shore. This is ridiculous. Will he evernot be nervous at the prospect of speaking to Enjolras? Because it’s thespeaking that’s the problem. Seeing him is fine. Grantaire used to watch himwander along the shore, collecting pebbles for hours. But that was before heactually met him. Before Enjolras noticedhim. There is a jolt of nerves in his stomach as his eyes finally discern ashape in the distance that might be Enjolras. Grantaire watches it approachuntil he is sure. It only takes the morning sun throwing one rosy ray on thefigure’s head. Golden locks gleam like yellow flames and Grantaire knows it canonly be Enjolras. He slides off the rock, his round body moving with as muchgrace as Montparnasse’s lanky one and swims to the shore with a effortless preoccupation. As soon as his tail brushes the loose cobbles of thebeach his sealcoat unfurls from around him and two feet offer him stability.Grantaire follows the rolling waves onto the shore, wrapped loosely in hisfurry pelt. He would rather wait for Enjolras like this. Transforming before theeyes of someone else is unnerving to him. He sits down on a boulder resting very nearthe water that is big enough to seat two and turns his head towards the walkingfigure. He takes a deep breath and raises his arm in a wave.

“Grantaire?”a melodic voice calls out.

“Who else,”he calls back, thankful that his voice displays more confidence than he feels.

Enjolrasspeeds up and Grantaire smiles when he is near enough for Grantaire to hear thepebbles clinking in his pockets. Enjolras has a relatively hard time repressinghis hoarding tendencies.

“I didn’tknow if you’d be here,” Enjolras says, almost apologetically. “But you usuallyare in the morning so…”

“It’s veryearly,” Grantaire points out. “You must have left before sun-up.” Waking upwithout the sun on his face is distasteful to Enjolras, Grantaire isn’t sure hehas ever seen him this early in the day. He gives Enjolras an enquiring look.“Wait…did you even sleep?”

“I did!”Enjolras protests. He sighs. “Just, not a lot?” He sits down on the boulderbeside Grantaire.

Grantairelooks out across the beach, watching the waves break on the shore. “Didsomething happen?” he asks.

“No…”Enjolras says slowly.

Grantairenods and waits. Enjolras lives in the small town nearby. Lots of people there.People that, kind and understanding as they may be, still get freaked out bythings they did not expect to see. Maybe that’s why Enjolras rambles around thefields and over the beaches so much. Maybe that’s why when he’s talking toGrantaire-

“It’s justfrustrating!” Enjolras bursts out. “I mean I like it here. And it’s great having to not, you know, hide who Iam. It’s definitely better than the city but-” He gestures in frustration. “Nowit just seems like I’m dealing with stupid stereotypes every other day. Why thehell would I care whether someone isa virgin or not?”

Grantaireis very happy Enjolras doesn’t expecthim to actually answer that question, because it took all his self-command to notaudibly choke at that sentence. It’s not that he minds, he just didn’t expectthe conversation to take that turn. Enjolras luckily doesn’t notice his temporarydistraction and swiftly moves on to other grievances. Grantaire doesn’tinterrupt him. Enjolras clearly needs to vent.

AndEnjolras does vent. He vents until sparksstart flying from his mouth and thin wisps of smoke crinkle from his nose everytime he exhales in a huff. Grantaire feels the heat that always radiates aroundEnjolras growing stronger and he silently basks in it. In the water he is nevercold, but on the shore he is. Enjolras pours his heart out until his fire literally spills from his lips.

“Sorry,” hegulps, shutting his mouth in embarrassment.

Grantairelaughs softly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You bottle stuff up too much.”He’s painfully aware of how much that is the pot calling the kettle black, buthe carefully ignores that.

“I know,”Enjolras sighs. He glances sideways at Grantaire and gives him a slight smile.“Thanks for listening.”

“Thanks forwarming me up,” Grantaire quips.

Enjolrassmiles a little wider. He looks a lot better now. Less at war with himself andthe world in general. “How have things been here?” he asks after a while.

“Wet,”Grantaire says seriously.

Enjolrasmakes a sound hallway between a laugh and a scoff. “I’m serious,” he says.“Talk to me about what bothers you for a change.”

Grantairegrimaces. “Kelpies,” he says decidedly. “Kelpies bother me.”

Enjolraslaughs. “Why?” he asks.

Grantairepulls a dramatically incredulous face. “Have you ever met a kelpie?”

Enjolraslaughs again and this time Grantaire can hear the roar of fire and the clink ofgold echoing in the back of it. He grins and thinks it’s a pretty fantasticalthing, for a selkie to be able to make a dragon laugh.

#enjoltaire #grantaire #enjolras #montparnasse #urban fantasy #i think it makes sense to link Grantaire to the earth #but James has that covered and i have feelings about selkies #i also have feelings about eath and fire lovers #i hope this was fluffy enough anon!#this is not full-fledged enjoltaire yet but it just turned out that way #also parnasse showed up because i like him too much #hah see me sneak jehanparnasse into enjoltaire prompts #i wasn't going to write more of this but...#I'm totally writing more of this #a collection of connected ficlets maybe?#the tag will be #For Love Of Lore #writing this did me so much good thank you anon!

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kimmycup · 7 years ago

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Hi there lovely! Idk if you've gone to sleep yet, but 7, 9, 11 for the ask? Sweet dreams, because I'm going to bed.

7. Favourite author.

So that’s an easy one. @takaraphoenix . She is infuriating. She makes me love even stuff I hated before.

Although like kudos and special mention to @chonideno and @gingersnapwolves whose work i am also addicted to.

9. Least favorite trope to write.

That’s a hard one because usually I just don’t write what I don’t like... But I guess some things I struggle with when I have to write them are dreams. Writing nightmares and such. Also forget I could ever write something sexy even if I tried. I never write smut, but sometimes I wish I coudl do an innuendo that doesn’t end up being funny.

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

Oh dear. We’re gonna be here for a while? Hah, I guess it’s not that bad in description though as it is in real life...

So basically writing always starts with the idea, which is something I don’t usually struggle with because I have about 30 ideas a second, but sometimes it can be challenging, like when I participate in secret santa or an exchange or something and I have a topic given or need to write for someone.

But thankfully I have prompt lists for that. I have a huge one with original idea that sadly I made before I realized numbering those lists is a good idea. Then I have a Malec prompt list, over 130 by now, and about 20 prompts long lists for Jace and Jace/Bat.

Then comes the outline. I’m long past the era of going with the flow, even short ficelts get a semi-outline in my head. But anything longer, with actual plot, means outlining.

And outlining is a curious, long and complicated process... and that means it’s all fun and games until it’s done and checked. Mostly I just write down the main plot points and how the story will go, scene by scene, before starting to check if it all fits together. Sometimes you realize, if you write canon divergence, you changes something that affects other things, sometimes when it’s original stuff or AU you notice that two things don’t go together. You consider alternatives. You sometimes make a tree of possible outcomes based on two different choices made in this or that chapter. It’s fun, very messy, lately has come to include colorful font and advice from @takaraphoenix . It’s also addictive. I don’t remember when I started but I cannot imagine NOT outlining now.

And then comes the actual fun part - writing, which is also where the outline matters. Because if I write too much and get a block, I just look into the outline and KNOW what I am supposed to write instead of racking my brains. The actual writing part sometimes makes a full circle and ends up with me outlining a scene in more detail in the middle of the chapter. But mostly it’s just stream of consciousness following the plan by then.

And taht’s the overly long answer to a question so many people would think simply.

Nah, it’s really not just about taking a pen and a paper/keyboard. At least not for me.

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eversall · 8 years ago

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Idk if you've already written this but can you write a fluffy jimon first date fic?

it’s happening!!!! lmao i love that all the new prompts i get now have specific genres. IT’S LIT, AND I KNOW I CAN’T MESS THIS UP TOO BADLY

side note: i wanna say that it should go without saying, but i’m a pretty chill person and always encourage people to come off anon and be my friend. i understand if you don’t want to - i have anon turned on, i mean i’m fine with it - but i’ve noticed an increase in anon prompts and i just wanna make it very clear that i’m super friendly and don’t bite!!

Jace is just about ready to call the whole thing off.

“Gotta arrange these better.” Clary fusses, fluffing the baby’s breath in the bouquet of flowers he’s holding. “This color gradient’s all off.”

“I paid a hell of a lot of money for dead plants.” Jace grumbles. “I think the color gradient’s fine.”

“You’re not the one with the art degree.” Izzy warns, coming forward and yanking his arm towards her.

“Clary doesn’t have one either.” Jace protests, confused as Izzy yanks out her stele and beings to trace something across his forearm. “Is that - stamina?”

“Better to be safe than sorry.” his sister says calmly, and Jace groans.

“I’m not going to have sex with him on the first date.” He says, a little too loudly. Lindsey pauses from where she’s on one of the monitors and gives him a strange look, and Raj is doubled over a rack of blades, wheezing with laughter.

“So great to know.” Alex says sardonically, smirking as he saunters over. He waves his phone at Jace. “I was just getting on Magnus’ case because he, Raphael, and Luke are making a big deal out of Simon getting ready, but apparently I don’t have a leg to stand on. You’re all just as bad.”

“Look who’s talking.” Izzy says, laughing as Alec casually straightens a wrinkle in Jace’s button-down and adjusts his collar.

“Are we all done?” Jace asks crossly. “Can I go on my private date now?”

“Oh, it’s so sweet when children grow up.” Clary sighs, pretending to wipe away a tear as she steps back. Jace groans, louder.

“Fray, are you giving my boyfriend a hard time?” a voice calls, and Jace turns, relieved, to see Simon. He pauses for a moment, stunned, as Simon walks up to him with a grin on his face.

Simon looks so good, the top few buttons of his soft purple henley unbuttoned. He’s got a dark black jacket on that Jace swears he’s seen on Magnus before, and his hair looks windswept. Jace wants to put his hands all over Simon and wreck him, wear out the stamina rune that Izzy’s so helpfully provided. At the same time, he also wants to hold Simon’s hand and take him on a picnic or something equally awful and sweet. It’s horrible, but Jace can’t find it in him to do anything but smile like an idiot and hand Simon the flowers, leaning in to brush a kiss against his cheek.

“Hey.” Jace says lowly, and Simon’s eyes are bright as he regards Jace and hands over his own bouquet, which Jace takes and smiles stupidly at.

“I see we both went for a traditional approach.” Simon comments, and they both consider the two bouquets. “Thought I’m not sure what to do with these now. I did not think this far ahead.”

“Classic Lewis.” Jace sighs, then jerks his head to Izzy. “I don’t have these nerds here for nothing.”

“No glove, no love, and make sure to use the stamina rune.” Izzy says sweetly in retaliation as she and Alec tug the bouquets out of their hands. “We’ll put these in water; go enjoy yourselves.” Simon flushes at the comment about the stamina rune, and Jace rolls his eyes.

“I don’t kiss and tell.” He hollers at his siblings before he holds a hand out to Simon. “Shall we?”

Simon laces their fingers together, rubbing his thumb briefly across Jace’s knuckles. “Where are we going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Jace, I’m driving. I have to know.” Simon says patiently.

“I’ll get my license soon.” Jace grumbles, and Simon laughs. “We’re going to Central Park.”

“It’s nearly midnight.”

“So?” Jace looks at him, using his free hand to push his hair out of his face. “Perfect for stargazing.”

“Oh my god, this is New York. Have you ever heard of something called light pollution?”

“You are so determined to make this not romantic.” Jace teases gently, nudging Simon and grinning. Simon cuts him a flat look, and Jace laughs. “I checked with Meliorn, and he set up a place with his magic to let us see the stars.”

“Wait, seriously?” Simon asks, stopping on the sidewalk in front of his garish van. Jace eyes the van warily.

“I can’t believe I’m constantly riding in this monstrosity.” He says, shaking his head. “But yeah.”

“Respect the wheels.” Simon says absently, still staring at Jace. “How did you get Meliorn to help you?”

Jace shrugs, shifting uncomfortable. “Meliorn has a soft spot for romance.” Simon continues to stare at him, and Jace sighs, relenting. “He thinks its hilarious that another Shadowhunter is dating a Downworlder, and he’s encouraging it because, and I quote, he ‘cannot wait to see the Clave’s constipated expressions when they learn of their precious half-angel with a vampire’.”

Simon laughs at that, throwing his head back and leaning against the van. Jace half-smiles, more occupied with the way the moonlight traces a silver glow across Simon’s cheeks and neck.

“Wait, that’s so great.” Simon says, still chuckling. “It’s Meliorn’s version of a fuck you, that’s so cute - are you listening? You’re staring at me weird.” He says, pausing as Jace licks his lips. Jace can’t take his eyes off of the way the light is falling perfectly across Simon, illuminating his figure and turning him into something angelic. He takes a step closer, swaying forward into Simon’s space.

“You’re impossible.” Simon says fondly before he lifts his free hand to cradle Jace’s cheek and bridges the distance between them, pressing his lips to Jace’s. It’s not their first kiss, but it feels just as wonderful, just as new and bright, warmth exploding like fireworks behind Jace’s closed eyes.

He presses closer, letting go of Simon’s hand, and instead winds his arms around Simon’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Simon makes a low, delighted noise, and traces his tongue across the seam of Jace’s lips; Jace obediently parts his mouth and lets Simon twine their tongues together, his breathing ragged. He feels like he’s floating, riding a soft high that consists entirely of Simon’s body tangled with his, Simon’s skin faintly cool beneath his hands, the noises that Simon makes echoing like a symphony around them.

He finally breaks the kiss when breathing becomes a problem, sucking in deep lungfuls of air as Simon watches him with half-lidded eyes, his lips faintly shining with spit.

“That stamina rune might actually come in handy.” Simon says, his voice rough, and Jace laughs, burying his face in Simon’s shoulder and relishing in the feeling for just a moment.

“I want to do this right.” Jace says, finally drawing back and pressing a tiny kiss to Simon’s forehead. “I’m gonna woo the fuck out of you, Lewis.”

“You sap.” Simon says, but he’s laughing too as he drags Jace around to the passenger side and opens the door. “Ready for our date, then?”

“Yeah.” Jace says, bringing Simon’s hand to his lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckles. Simon blushes violently, covering his face with his free hand. Jace grins, slow and predatory, and Simon’s eyes widen. “Yeah.”

(It’s a really cute date, up until the bushes rustle and they whirl around, weapons drawn, to find a sheepish wolf regarding them, accompanied by Izzy and Clary.

“It’s 2017 and privacy is apparently a myth!” Simon hollers, chasing a laughing Luke down as Jace groans and quietly bemoans the fact that they’re all way too co-dependent.)

#sigh this is what happens when i procrastinate for finals #i start filling all my prompts #i write sometimes #jimon #jace wayland #simon lewis #sh fics #queue-rious

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sad-trash-writing · 8 years ago

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idk if you've seen that extra gum commercial where this guy draws little comics on gum wrappers, and he has this crush on this girl. they date and he draws things from their relationship on the wrappers and he draws one to propose to his gf and she says yes. and the song playing is "i can't help falling in love with you". i really would love to see a skimmons version of that. it could be a high school-college au

I know this took ages, but I hope it’s worth it. Thanks for the prompt! It was a ton of fun!

AO3 Link

Whoever invented high school clearly hated teenagers. Daisy huffed out a dramatic sigh and leaned back in her rickety wooden desk. The teacher kept droning on about some boring battle in the Civil War (which Daisy swore they learned about last year, too). Worst of all, she had forgotten her backpack at home today so she didn’t even have anything to doodle on to kill the time.

A slight rustle in front of her drew her attention from counting the ceiling tiles to Jemma Simmons, the only redeeming factor of this class. US History was the only class Jemma wasn’t in the advanced section of (since she was British and only moved to America last year) so Daisy got to stare at the back of her head and listen to Jemma’s voice every time she asked a question.

The sound that drew Daisy’s attention was just Jemma digging a pack of gum out of her bag. A lightbulb went off in Daisy’s head when she realized that it was the type that had the little foil wrappers, or in Daisy’s universe, something to draw on.

She leaned forward across her desk and lightly tapped Jemma on the shoulder. “Can I have a piece?” Daisy whispered.

Jemma lurched slightly in her seat, but pulled a second piece of gum out of the pack and handed it over her shoulder. “Of course.”

She shot Daisy a bright smile and turned back to her notes.

Daisy’s heart really should not be beating this hard from that seven-word conversation. So maybe she had a little crush on the super genius Brit she never saw outside of history class. Sue her.

Once her pulse returned to normal, Daisy slipped out the pencil she always kept stuck her ponytail and started sketching.

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

“Um, excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here?”

Daisy’s head whipped towards the accented voice and instantly regretted taking Miles’ bet that she couldn’t fit a whole order of spaghetti in her mouth.

“Jemma!” she exclaimed through a mouth of pasta. “Yeah, sure you can—”

Daisy quickly realized that Jemma couldn’t understand her and she would probably choke if she tried to swallow right now. Instead, Daisy planted a foot on Miles’ chair and shoved him far enough down the table that there was space for a chair next to Daisy, ignoring his indignant noises.

Luckily, Jemma didn’t seem disgusted by Daisy’s antics and just smiled and pulled up a chair next to her. Daisy quickly choked down the remainder of her spaghetti and tried to remember what a normal sitting posture was.

To distract herself from the sudden presence of the girl she had a major crush on Daisy held her open hand out to Miles.

“Pay up, I did it,” she demanded. She half expected Miles to argue with her, but he slyly glanced at Jemma, who was suddenly engrossed in her sandwich, and slapped a $5 bill into Daisy’s hand.

“So, Jemma—” Daisy started, but was cut off by Jemma mumbling under her breath. “Uh, what was that?”

Jemma peered at Daisy and blushed. “I bet you can’t fit that whole piece of garlic bread in your mouth,” she muttered with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Daisy balked for a moment. Whatever she expected from the quiet British girl, it wasn’t that. “You’re on.”

Once she won Jemma’s bet, after nearly inhaling garlic bread crumbs while laughing at Jemma’s shocked expression, Daisy slipped a spare scrap of paper out of her bag and doodled a tiny scene on it.

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

“So, Jem. Wanna watch Sharknado or Paranormal Activity?”

Jemma wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe those are the options you’re giving me.”

“Well, do you want to take apart the science of demons or sharks forming a tornado and eating people?” Daisy countered.

Jemma rolled her eye. “I suppose Sharknado. I know there’s at least two more Paranormal Activity movies that you’ll try to force me to watch next, so let’s avoid that.”

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s four Sharknados, too!”

Jemma groaned loudly as she and Daisy strolled towards the bus stop. Jemma had started sitting at Daisy’s table everyday for lunch and even choosing Daisy every time they had a partner project in class. Daisy wasn’t complaining. She even managed to shove aside her stupid feelings for awhile to just spend time with Jemma as a friend.

And friends watched terrible movies at each other’s houses every weekend while over-caffeinating themselves and staying up way too late.

“I can’t stay too late tonight, though. I’ve got an interview tomorrow for a college scholarship,” Jemma said.

“College? We’re sophomores. How have you started looking at that already?” Daisy replied.

Jemma shrugged. “I’ve just had a few contact me because of my test scores and thought it would be a good idea to check my options now.”

Daisy chuckled. “Well, you always do know how to over-prepare. But I guess we’ll only watch Sharknado one and two tonight then. The others can wait until next weekend.”

“Unless every copy of the DVDs mysteriously goes missing by then.”

“That’s what the internet is for, Jem.”

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

“This has got to be my favorite song,” Jemma announced.

Daisy looked up from her ice cream with a frown. She hadn’t even realized there was music playing, honestly. She was just tired from the school day and not looking forward to the amount of homework she had to do later. Luckily, Jemma agreed to help her out, on the condition that Daisy took her out for ice cream first. Only when Jemma mentioned it did she notice that Can’t Help Falling In Love With You was quietly playing over the speakers above them.

“Didn’t take you for an Elvis fan, Jemma,” Daisy teased.

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Well, not Elvis per se. Just this song is beautiful.”

Daisy snorted. “Seems a little sappy to me.”

Jemma tossed a wadded up napkin at her.

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

Daisy blinked away the tears before Jemma could notice them. Jemma was occupied, cramming more bags into her dad’s car while Daisy stood off to the side, wringing her hands just to keep busy. Despite her somber mood, Daisy couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out of her throat when Jemma had to crawl into the backseat and pull one of her bags from the inside, while her dad pushed it from the outside.

Once the bag was stuffed into the car, Jemma tumbled out of the car, dusted off her hands, and admired their handiwork.

“Why’d you have to be such a smarty-pants and graduate early anyway?” Daisy teased.

Jemma flashed her a sad smile. “I’ll be back for holidays and summers still, I promise.”

“I know, but now I have to sit through history alone,” Daisy whined.

“For that, I am truly sorry,” Jemma said with a smirk. Despite the attempts at humor, Daisy could see tears welling up in Jemma’s eyes as well. Daisy grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a tight hug, burying her face in Jemma’s neck.

Daisy didn’t know how long they held each other, but she vaguely heard Jemma’s mom clear her throat at some point. Jemma just waved her off and kept squeezing Daisy like her life depended on it.

Eventually, they broke apart, both giving up on containing their tears.

“You’ll keep in touch, right?” Jemma asked in a tone that sounded more like a demand.

“I-I—” The ‘I love you’ that Daisy desperately wanted to say caught in her throat. “I will.”

Jemma smiled and gave her another quick hug, before jogging over to the car where her parents were impatiently waiting and hopped in. As they drove away, Daisy stuck her hands in her pockets and found a crumpled gum wrapper. She smoothed it out and started drawing.

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

Daisy tried to keep her promise. She really did, but life happened. The first six months Jemma was away at college, she and Daisy Skype’d almost daily and texted after every class. But then Jemma had research deadlines come up and Daisy had to study for midterms and they lost touch.

Years passed. Daisy was accepted into her first choice school for graphic design and packed up to move across the country. She quickly acclimated to the dorm life with her new roommate, Bobbi.

How she got paired up with Bobbi as a roommate, Daisy would never know (Daisy being an art kid and Bobbi majoring in biology). They got along well enough, despite their differences, and it turned out that Bobbi’s sometimes-boyfriend, Hunter, was an art student as well.

They had a standing lunch date at one of the cafés on campus between the art building and their dorm. Daisy jogged in, late as usual, with paint and charcoal smeared on her shirt and a handful of paintbrushes jammed into her pockets.

“Hey! Only ten minutes late this time! Maybe next time you’ll actually be here on time,” Bobbi teased, sipping her coffee.

Daisy rolled her eyes and flopped into the chair across from her. “My lateness is a performance art piece on the societal construct of time. And Professor Rogers made me stay after to clean the paintbrushes again.”

“I’m surprised you can resist calling him Mr. Rogers and asking how things are in the neighborhood.”

“Why do you think I had to clean the paintbrushes?”

Bobbi chuckled and glanced towards the door. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited someone else to join us today.”

“Oh? Who?”

“A girl from the bio lab. She’s our age, but a couple years ahead in her program already,” Bobbi said.

Daisy groaned. “Great, so I’m going to have to sit here and listen to two of you biobabble at me?”

“Don’t even act like you don’t rant about your dorky art stuff at me. Sorry I don’t know the difference between Dega and Dada.”

“Okay, those two aren’t even in the same category. Dadaism is a movement—”

“Daisy?” A new voice cut in.

Daisy’s attention shot to the new voice and her jaw dropped. “Jemma?!”

They stared each other down, wearing matching expressions of shock. Once Daisy’s brain caught up to her eyes, she shot out of her seat like a rocket and swept Jemma up in a bone-crunching hug. All these years later and she even smelled the same. Not that Daisy remembered what Jemma smelled like.

After a few long moments, they loosened their grip and started babbling over each other.

“I thought you were going to some fancy private school—”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming here—”

“—I didn’t know you were going here or I would have said something—”

“—It’s been so long I wasn’t sure I had your phone number anymore—”

Bobbi clearing her throat behind them stopped the tirade of overlapping statements. “Uh…So you two know each other?”

“Daisy and I went to high school together,” Jemma supplied.

“And we were really close, until someone had to graduate two years early,”

Daisy accused, with a teasing smirk.

Jemma just rolled her eyes.

Bobbi smirked. “Then, I guess you two have a lot to catch up on.”

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

Despite the years apart, Daisy and Jemma fell right back into their old patterns of movie nights and teasing each other. Nearly every Friday, they would squeeze onto Daisy’s dorm bed with Bobbi and Hunter and project a movie onto the opposite wall. Daisy finally gave in to Jemma’s begging and agreed to watch something that wasn’t a SyFy original and threw in some pretentious movies her fellow art students loved to brag about, exclusively to pick them apart.

Unfortunately, those stupid feelings Daisy repressed for years reappeared the moment Jemma did.

One day, a new face appeared in Daisy’s dorm room.

“Everybody, this is Will,” Jemma introduced, “He’s an aerospace engineering major.”

Daisy waved a hello with the others, but for some reason decided she didn’t like this guy. Sure, he may be a perfectly nice guy, but he stood just a little too close to Jemma and stared at her with just a little too much fondness.

That night, Jemma chose to sit on the futon below Daisy’s lofted bed with Will. Daisy spent the duration of the movie grumpily glaring in the direction of the movie, but not really watching it.

A few hours later, Bobbi flicked on the lights and everyone shuffled out of the room, leaving just Daisy and her roommate.

“What was that all about?” Bobbi demanded once the door clicked behind Hunter (always the last to leave).

“Hey, I didn’t pick the movie this week,” Daisy defended while she stacked up popcorn bowls.

“That’s not what I was talking about. You’ve never been that quiet during a movie night ever and, every time I looked over at you, you were glaring at the floor.”

Daisy flushed. “It’s just been a long week and I’m tired. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Bobbi muttered, unconvinced, but she let the subject drop.

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

Fall weather had officially settled in, making it suddenly bearable to be outside. Daisy had to dodge at least three runaway Ultimate Frisbee games on the way to lunch and couldn’t help herself from stopping to pick some of the small fall flowers out of the dining hall’s landscaping. She had a mixed media project coming up that she could probably use them for.

As usual, Daisy was one of the last to arrive for lunch. Bobbi and Hunter were already settled in, bickering about something, but still eating off the same tray. Fitz was tinkering with some new gadget, while Trip leaned over and kept trying to poke at it. The only person missing was Jemma.

“Hey, you’re not the last one here for once,” Bobbi teased as Daisy sat down. Daisy waved her off and tossed her bag on the table, despite Fitz’s indignant protests. She had barely opened her mouth to ask where Jemma was, when a flurry of brown hair and lab reports ran into the table.

“THE ORIONID METEOR SHOWER IS TOMORROW NIGHT,” Jemma shouted, slamming her hands on the table.

Her statement was met with blank stares. “Um…Kay?”

“We need to try to see it! It’s supposed to be spectacular,” Jemma continued.

Daisy shrugged. “I’m game. I might finally see my first shooting star.”

The rest of the table mumbled their agreements and Jemma launched into planning mode.

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

Daisy hadn’t realized how much stuff they would be bringing to go watch the stars. Why they needed an inflatable pool was beyond her, when some ratty blankets would do just fine. She hauled the giant box out of the back of her van and dropped in in the middle of the field Jemma had staked out for the group. Even though it seemed unnecessary to Daisy, Jemma found the idea on Pinterest and thought it sounded fun, so Daisy would go along with it.

Once she wrenched the wad of plastic from the box, Daisy hooked up the automatic air pump to the pool, flipped the switch, and then sat back and waited.

The sun was just beginning to set on the grassy field. The tranquil silence was broken by the jarring whir of the pump, but the scenery was still beautiful. Jemma had really outdone herself when picking this spot to watch the meteor shower (she was very insistent that it had to be far enough away from the town to avoid light pollution). Daisy could only imagine how beautiful it would be out here when the stars came out. She rooted through her pocket and found a folded up scrap of sketch paper. She pulled out a pencil and started sketching the trees that lined the field and dotted the horizon.

The pool was just starting to take shape when Jemma’s tiny hatchback pulled up beside Daisy’s van. Jemma hopped out of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk open, while grumbling under her breath.

“Hey, Jem,” Daisy greeted. “Where’s the rest of the group? It’s going to be hard for them to find us when it gets dark.”

“They’re not coming,” Jemma huffed. “Bobbi and Hunter said something about a last minute date night and Fitz called and rambled some nonsense excuse regarding a project he was working on with Trip.”

Daisy frowned. “Huh. That’s strange. Oh well, I guess they’ll miss all the free wishes.”

“So, you want to stay?” Jemma asked, hopefully.

“Yeah, of course.”

Jemma breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. I was hoping you wouldn’t want to leave because everyone else cancelled.”

“I didn’t come out here for them,” Daisy blurted. She ducked down to fidget with the pool in an attempt to hide her blush. With a sly peek out of the corner of her eye she caught Jemma’s shy smile.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Want to help me unload the car?”

The trunk and back seat of Jemma’s car were both stuffed full of pillows and thick blankets, which Daisy and Jemma dragged out by the armful and tossed in the misshapen pool.

Once everything was arranged and the pool had taken shape, they shut off the noisy air pump and flopped into the giant nest of blankets. Jemma tucked a bag of popcorn and a thermos of hot chocolate in the folds of the blankets and they snuggled in to wait for the meteor shower to start.

Silence settled over the pair for a moment, before giving rise to the sounds of nature. Crickets chirped their last odes to the summer weather before the frost would inevitably sweep through. A light breeze shuddered through the branches of the distant trees, rattling the drying leaves together. A lone owl hooted in the shelter of the trees.

Jemma sighed contentedly and nestled further into the blankets. “The highest concentration of meteors ought to be around the Orion constellation, over there.”

Jemma gestured towards a cluster of stars, but Daisy had no clue where she was pointing. Daisy was too busy staring at Jemma, illuminated only by the dim starlight and talking excitedly about the origin of the Orionid meteor shower.

Daisy smile and nodded in agreement, meanwhile berating herself internally. Why, why did she have to fall for one of her best friends? Her straight best friend. Nothing good could come of this. Only awkwardness and heartache. Daisy pushed the thoughts of her killer crush away when Jemma offered her the bag of popcorn.

A few hours after it was completely dark, they saw their first meteor. Daisy almost wasn’t sure she had seen it. It happened so quickly so thought she may have imagined it, but Jemma’s slight gasp told Daisy that it was real. After the first one, they came more frequently, until they lit up the sky almost before the previous one had faded.

Jemma and Daisy both stayed mostly quiet, preferring to enjoy the natural phenomenon with minimal conversation. Daisy was so entranced by the streaks of light cutting across the sky that she hadn’t even noticed Jemma fidgeting with her hands until she spoke up.

“Daisy, can I talk to you about something?” Jemma asked in nearly a whisper.

The tone betrayed the serious nature of whatever Jemma wanted to say and Daisy’s eyes snapped to Jemma. “Of course. What’s up?” Daisy replied with forced casualness.

Jemma fidgeted for a moment more with her eyes fixed on her hands before she spoke up. “I— Well, it’s—There’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for awhile, but it’s—it’s just never seemed like the right time and there’s always someone else around, or we’re busy or—or—”

Daisy waited with bated breath while Jemma paused to collect her thoughts.

“I—um. I like girls, I guess,” Jemma finished.

Daisy’s heart leaped and a tiny hopeful part of her brain started cheering, but Daisy quickly shoved it away. This isn’t about you, asshole, she thought.

“Oh. Cool, um, thanks for trusting me with that,” Daisy replied, “Actually, while we’re on that subject—”

“I know, this probably isn’t the best time, but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you,” Jemma rambled. She briefly reached for Daisy’s hands, but seemed to think better of it and folded them in her lap. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want anything to change between us because of this.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just completely bowled over you. We’re you going to say something?”

Daisy blanched. “No, never mind. It’s not important.”

“Please, I don’t want anything left unsaid between us now,” Jemma prompted.

“Let’s get it all out ther—”

“I love you.”

It seemed even the crickets were silent following Daisy’s confession. If she wasn’t in the middle of nowhere, Daisy probably would have bolted for the nearest closet to hide herself in for the rest of her life.

Jemma’s silence was almost worse than if she had run away in disgust. Daisy mentally begged her to say something. Anything.

“…Really?” Jemma finally whispered.

Daisy nodded, though she wasn’t sure Jemma could see her in the dark. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s just pretend I never said—”

Now it was Jemma’s turn to interrupt. She leaned across the narrow space between them, capturing Daisy’s lips mid-word, and slid a hand around the back of Daisy’s neck to pull her in closer.

Daisy’s body processed this new development before her mind caught up, kissing Jemma back fervently before she was even fully aware what was happening.

By the time they broke for air, Daisy’s brain had finally caught up. “I thought you said you didn’t want anything to change between us,” she said, stupidly.

“That was a complete lie,” Jemma chuckled. “I’ve been mad about you since high school.”

“Really? Why did neither of us say anything before now?” Daisy asked.

Jemma just giggled and leaned in for another, more gentle kiss. Meteors continued to streak across the sky the rest of the night, but they passed completely unnoticed by the pair curled up in the inflatable pool together.

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

“What? Even I can tell you that’s a terrible— No, he’s great, but I know your— Hey, don’t yell at me, you’re the one who’s dumped him four times!” Daisy screamed into her phone. “Hello?…She hung up on me.”

“Um…Is everything alright?” Jemma cautiously asked.

Daisy groaned. “Bobbi just decided she’s going to move in with Hunter at the end of the semester.”

“Oh. That’s…good?” Jemma guessed.

“The school can’t find anyone willing to move into the dorm halfway through the year, so they’re going to make me pay the 'single-room’ price. I can’t afford that!” Daisy complained.

“I can see why you’re upset now.”

“Yeah. I supposed my van is big enough to throw a mattress in the back. As long as campus security doesn’t get weird about me parking it somewhere.”

“You can come live with me next semester,” Jemma shyly suggested.

Daisy’s heart sped up. “What?”

“I have a full scholarship that covers my rent as well as tuition, so you wouldn’t have to pay anything,” Jemma explained, “I wouldn’t mind having someone to live with. It can get a tad quiet.”

“Are you sure it’s not too soon? I mean, we are dating now. Would it be weird for us to live together so soon?” Daisy asked.

Jemma shrugged. “I was going to ask you to move in with me any way. Do you really think I’d let my girlfriend live in her van?”

Daisy pulled Jemma into a tight hug in answer.

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

Jemma’s apartment was nice. Very nice, in fact. The extra scholarship money allowed Jemma to afford a place right off campus, away from the noise and annoyance of the fraternity houses. It was small, but not cramped. Just enough space for Jemma’s sparse belongings.

And now Daisy’s. Jemma failed to mention that her apartment was only a one-bedroom before Daisy had hauled the first box of her possessions up the stairs.

Daisy hadn’t wanted to presume anything, so she tossed her pillow on the couch and looked for a corner to cram her stuff into. Jemma had just chuckled, grabbed her hand, and dragged her towards the bedroom.

Daisy was surprised by how easily she settled into domesticity with Jemma. Given that she was completely prepared to live out of her van, Daisy didn’t expect to find herself so comfortable now. They settled into an easy routine. Jemma left at the crack of dawn for her classes, Daisy following around noon, Jemma went to the lab for a few hours after class, and Daisy went to work at the campus bookstore. They both returned to the apartment late and collapsed into bed or watched TV for a few hours. Friday night, they would make sure to be home in time for dinner and one of them would cook something nice.

The cooking was the one thing Daisy never got the hang of. Her artistic talents definitely did not translate into the culinary arts. The most complicated thing she had ever managed to make herself was a can of chicken noodle soup that she put in the microwave, so she struggled whenever it was her turn to make Friday night dinner.

But she was going to try her hardest anyway because she loved Jemma and wanted to make her something nice.

So here she was, fighting her way through making spaghetti. Jemma was perched on the corner of their bed with her headphones on full volume, typing away frantically at a report that was due early, and made it clear that she should not be interrupted until either she or dinner was done.

Daisy grumbled to herself about the inconsistency of using a 'clove’ of garlic as a form of measurement. Daisy made the mistake of buying the already diced garlic that came in a jar (much to Jemma’s dismay), so she just guessed and threw in a full teaspoon with the meat. Hopefully that was enough.

Next, she grabbed the jar of sauce. Daisy twisted the lid, but it didn’t budge. Daisy squeezed and twisted harder. Nothing. She tried clamping the jar between her knees and using both hands to twist. It was like the lid was cemented on the stupid jar.

Daisy huffed. What was the trick Jemma always used? Tapping it on the counter!

Daisy gingerly tapped the rim of the jar against the edge of the counter a few times and tried again. Still no movement. She tapped it harder. Nothing. Daisy glared at the offending jar. Now it was starting to feel personal.

Daisy gave it one last try and whacked the jar on the counter, but heard a cracking sound rather than the pop of the lid she was hoping for.

“Damnit,” she grumbled. She grabbed the lid and it twisted right off.

Which took the top half of the jar with it. The jagged edge of the jar cut into Daisy’s palm as she twisted.

“Shit!”

The stripe of blood that welled up on her palm started small, but quickly began trickling down her hand. Daisy set the ruined jar on the counter and grabbed for a paper towel to put some pressure on the cut. She barely got the paper towel ripped off the roll when the timer for the noodles went off, startling her.

She jerked back, hitting the sauce jar with her elbow, which sent it tumbling towards the ground where it shattered on impact.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Is everything alright out there?” Jemma’s voice called from the bedroom.

Daisy sighed and glanced at her still stinging wound. “Hey, Jem. You know how you said to only bother you if something was on fire or I was bleeding?”

Daisy heard the bedsprings creak as Jemma rolled of the mattress and shuffled toward the kitchen. “I sincerely hope you’re being dramatic again or you’re paying the security dep— OH MY GOD!”

Daisy looked up from her cut and saw the carnage of the red-splattered kitchen where she was the focal point. Right after she said she was bleeding (because clearly nothing was on fire). No wonder Jemma was freaking out.

“Oh, no no it’s just this!” Daisy announced holding up her (relatively speaking) tiny cut for Jemma to see, “I can’t really get to the mop without stepping on glass so…”

Jemma stared, wide-eyed, for another moment. Then she burst into a fit of giggles. Soon, the giggles turned into raucous laughter and eventually Jemma was bent over, gasping for air between fits of cackling.

Even though Daisy felt terrible about ruining dinner, she couldn’t help laughing along with Jemma at the entire situation. Her laugh was infectious.

Jemma grabbed the mop and helped Daisy clean up the mess and Daisy went to pick up some Chinese take out. Later that night, when Jemma went back to pouring over her computer Daisy found a red pen and sketched the scene on the back of a receipt and tucked it away.

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

Jemma shoved the apartment door open with a bit more force than was truly necessary. It had been a very long, arduous day and all she wanted was to eat a pint of ice cream and go to sleep early.

She shuffled through the door, knocking into the wall with her stack of reports and struggling to keep them from falling. She grumbled to herself as she kicked some of Daisy’s art supplies out of the way, so she wouldn’t end up tracking paint through the apartment (again) and trudged towards the bedroom.

A little flashing light from the kitchen made her pause. The 'new message’ light on the answering machine to the landline the apartment required them to have flashed insistently. Jemma frowned. Typically, no one called that number. If they needed to get ahold of one of them, Jemma and Daisy both had cell phones that they checked more regularly.

Jemma threw her stuff down on the table and jammed the little button.

A chipper voice cut through the silence of the apartment. “Hello! This message is for Daisy Johnson, regarding the job you applied for at Creative Concepts. It turns out we will be able to cover your relocation to New York City, as well as offering you a percentage more than the listing stated. We would like to get you settled and starting work by late next month so if you could give us a call back at—”

The number the woman rattled off was drowned out by the slamming of the front door.

“Jemma, you home? I got out early and was thinking we could go do something—,” Daisy rounded the corner and saw Jemma’s face, “—fun? What’s wrong?”

“You got a job in New York?” Jemma asked, tersely.

“I what?” Daisy replied.

“A place in New York just called and said you’ve got a job. They want you to start in a month,” Jemma gritted out through her teeth, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Daisy blinked at her for a moment. “I thought you’d be…happier.”

“Happier?!” Jemma snapped, “You never even told me you were looking for jobs, much less ones in New York City!”

“Well, duh. What did you think I was going to do, mooch off you the rest of my life?” Daisy spit back.

Jemma recoiled. “I thought you would at least tell me that you were thinking of moving across the country. What am I supposed to do? Quit my job and follow you at a moment’s notice? Or were you just going to leave and not even talk to me about it?”

“I thought you’d be excited! This is a great job and I’d finally be pulling my own weight,” Daisy shouted, more confused than angry.

“Without me!” Jemma yelled, “We’re in a relationship. We’re supposed to talk about things like this together. Why did you hide this from me?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t actually think I would get it, I just wanted to see what would happen,” Daisy said. “What do you want me to do? Not take the job?”

“Yes! No. I—” Jemma huffed. “I don’t know, I just…I need a minute.”

She stalked off to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Daisy groaned and thumped her head against the wall. Eventually, she shuffled over to the answering machine and replayed the message to write down the call-back number.

Daisy hung around the kitchen and nibbled on a fingernail nervously. She and Jemma had never had a fight like that before. Sure, they occasionally fought about little things, like Daisy leaving paint lying around or Jemma stealing Daisy’s leftovers late at night. Those were insignificant and usually ended in sex, so they weren’t too bad.

But nothing like this. Daisy wasn’t used to people sticking around after a fallout and kept waiting for Jemma to charge out of the bedroom with a packed bag and leave forever.

But that wasn’t Jemma. And Daisy wasn’t about to let what they had fall apart over this. Not after everything they’d been through.

She gave Jemma a few more minutes of alone time and tiptoed over to the bedroom door. She tapped gently on it, but got no response.

“Jem? Can I come in?” Daisy asked tentatively. After a few seconds with no response, Daisy was preparing herself to sleep on the couch, when a whispered 'yes’ filtered through the door.

Jemma was curled up on her side on the bed, facing away from Daisy. The occasional muffled sniffles told Daisy that Jemma had been crying and it broke her heart.

She slipped into the bed behind Jemma and slowly scooted herself next to her. When she wasn’t forcibly shoved away like she was expecting, she curled up around Jemma and rested her hand on Jemma’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Daisy whispered, “I really wasn’t trying to hide it. I just…wasn’t thinking. I’m still not used to this 'serious relationship’ thing, I guess.” Daisy nudged closer to Jemma’s back and rested her head in the crook of her neck. “I’ll call them back first thing and let them know I can’t take the job,” she mumbled.

Jemma sighed and rolled over to face Daisy. “I don’t want that. I’m sure it’s a great job and I know you’ve been wanting to get out of this city. I only wish this wasn’t the first time I had heard about it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jemma whispered, “But, now we can deal with this. Together.”

Daisy nodded. “Agreed.”

She leaned forward and kissed Jemma gently, and then smiled to herself.

“Hey, Jemma,” she muttered.

“Hm?”

“We just survive our first big fight.”

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

They kept their promise to each other to deal with the new job situation together. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as seamless at Daisy would have hoped. Jemma couldn’t get away from the work she was doing for the university until at least the end of the semester, and then still had to find a job in New York City. So far, her hunt had hit a dead-end.

Daisy, however, couldn’t put off the start of her job and would have to move without her. As much as it would kill them to be apart for so long, they would have to make it work for now. They both promised each other that it wouldn’t end like the last time they were separated.

Daisy found a small apartment that she could afford on her single salary for now, and threw herself straight into work for a graphic design company that contracted out artists to client companies. The work was mind-numbing at times and she called Jemma nearly every night to complain about her thickheaded clients, but she was at least doing work she enjoyed and had many opportunities in New York to find an audience for her art.

Jemma continued to work at the university laboratory, apply for research-based positions in New York, and coordinate with Daisy when they would have a free weekend to visit one another.

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

Jemma’s phone rang early one morning while she was eating breakfast. Well, it was a reasonable hour for herself, but for most of the population, it was early. It was especially early for Daisy, who’s name was the one that popped up on caller ID.

“Hello?” Jemma greeted.

“Hey.” Daisy sounded breathless on the other line. “Remember how we talked about you having a free weekend coming up? I really think you should come up here.”

“Alright, why the urgency, though?” Jemma replied.

Daisy was quiet for a moment and seemed to be catching her breath. “I got a gig at a gallery! I get to use the entire gallery to display some of my projects!”

“Daisy, that’s wonderful!”

“I know! This is gonna be such a great opportunity. All the best people are gonna be at the opening,” Daisy rambled. “So can you make it?”

“I’ll book my plane ticket immediately.”

The silence on the other line didn’t concern Jemma, because Daisy was probably just fist-pumping the air.

“I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see you,” Daisy finally responded. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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

A few phone more phone calls later and they pinned down the details for the trip. Jemma’s flight was getting in the morning of the gallery opening, so she and Daisy would have some time to explore the city together.

The minute she landed and turned her phone back on, their plans were upended by a text from Daisy.

Super super sorry, but I can’t get out of work til later :( I left a key under the mat at my apartment so you can drop your stuff and nap. Sry ily

Jemma huffed, but understood and went to gather her things at baggage claim. When she went to hail a cab, she notice a nicely dressed man standing near the exit holding a sign that read Jemma Simmons.

Jemma frowned and approached him. At least Daisy spared her from having to trek through New York City with all of her bags.

“Mrs. Simmons, I presume?” the man asked.

“Miss, but yes,” she replied, adjusting her bags.

The man smiled. “My mistake. Can I grab your bags for you?”

The driver loaded her things into a sleek black car and opened the rear door for her to enter.

Once on the road, Jemma couldn’t help but ogle everything she drove past. The massive buildings sparkled in the morning sun and every variety of cafe seemed tucked into the lower floors of them. Cars choked the streets, allowing Jemma plenty of time to stare and memorize the source of every mouth-watering smell that she wanted Daisy to take her to.

Even more than the cars, was the sheer amount of people, bustling this way and that. How they could even move with some many people cramming the sidewalks was a miracle.

They passed through Times’ Square and the blinding lights from every corner dazed her momentarily.

They finally pulled up to Daisy’s apartment building, which Jemma recognized from the pictures she had sent when she first moved in. It was nothing compared to the glitz and glamor of the center of the city, but it seemed cozy enough.

The driver unloaded Jemma’s things for her onto the sidewalk and bid her a good day. Jemma rifled through her purse for some cash to give him a tip, but he had returned to the car and sped off before she could find it.

Strange, Jemma thought, but, then again, Daisy is always saying how weird New Yorkers are.

Jemma shrugged and headed towards the elevator.

Sure enough, a small key was tucked under the welcome mat in front of Daisy’s apartment. It still had enough of Daisy’s form of personalization scattering the floor and stuck to the walls to remind Jemma with a pang of their shared apartment. Jemma called Daisy’s name, hoping she would have made it home by now, but found the apartment empty.

She grumbled to herself, a bit annoyed that Big City Girl Daisy couldn’t seem to spare any time for her girlfriend who she dragged up to see her. She tossed her things in a corner in Daisy’s bedroom and headed to the kitchen to find a snack. A small piece of folded paper was propped up on the counter when she got there. Jemma snatched it and found another apology, but this one included cash.

Dear Jemma, sorry again I’m flaking out. I have a few more things to wrap with the gallery before the opening tonight. Here’s some cash so you can get yourself a nice lunch. There’s a diner two blocks down that you might like. The Wi-Fi password is Alhambra.

Also, I included a bit extra so you can go down to the boutique on 7th and get something nice to wear tonight. You get to be my arm candy after all ;) See you tonight. Sry and ily.

Daisy

Jemma rolled her eyes. She wasn’t really interested in seeing the sights in New York alone, but she probably should get a nicer dress for the evening. She had a feeling that 'nice’ was a different standard at a New York gallery opening than anything in Jemma’s college town. She snatched the cash and the spare key and headed back out the door.

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

Despite what Jemma told herself, she did go see some of the attractions near Daisy’s apartment. She found a nice souvenir stand where she bought herself a mini Statue of Liberty magnet and a foam hat that she was going to make Daisy wear everywhere tomorrow. Then she headed down to the boutique that Daisy had mentioned to find a nice outfit.

She picked out a flattering sparkly dress that, normally, she would never buy for herself, but she wanted to impress the people coming to see Daisy. If it made Daisy drool over her and regret leaving her alone all day, that was just a bonus.

When it got close to the start of the event, Jemma was fully dressed and made up and Daisy was still nowhere to be found. Jemma was starting to worry that something might have happened to her, when her phone buzzed with another message from Daisy.

Hey things got crazy so I’ve got to stay at the gallery until it opens. There will still be a car by the apartment to come pick you up at 6:30.

Jemma frowned and typed back, Did you just have plans with your new girlfriend all day?

Jemma was mostly joking, but the lack of response way worrying. Sure, she figured Daisy was busy with the gallery and all, but it wasn’t like Daisy to be so cagey.

The car pulled up in front of the building at 6:30 on the dot, with the same driver who picked her up from the airport. He held the car door open for her, told her she looked 'ravishing,’ and then hopped in the driver’s seat.

The drive was mostly silent, with Jemma being too grumpy to initiate conversation and the driver too occupied with not crashing into every person who cut them off.

The gallery they pulled to a stop in front of was small, which Jemma expected. What she hadn’t expected was the dimness of the light filtering through the windows facing the street. Inside, Jemma could see a few small spotlights pointed at framed works on the wall that were much smaller than what Daisy usually created.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Jemma asked the driver.

He just nodded with a smile. “Daisy’s waiting for you inside.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Jemma was expecting a bit more fanfare about a gallery opening, even one this small, but there didn’t appear to be anyone here yet.

She pushed through the door and strode into the gallery, her slightly uncomfortable heels clicking loudly on the wood floors. She peered around corners looking for Daisy, or really any other person, but didn’t see anyone, so she paced around and looked at Daisy’s art.

Then, Jemma was more confused. Everything framed and stuck to the walls was just doodles on the back of a receipt of a gum wrapper. It wasn’t the kind of work that would normally be put up in a gallery.

“Do you like them?” a familiar voice called out behind her.

Jemma spun around and saw Daisy, dressed to the nines, slowly walking towards her.

“I…I guess. I’m just a little confused,” Jemma admitted. “And where is everyone? I thought you said everyone important would be here.”

“They are,” Daisy replied, her eyes fixed solely on Jemma. “Let me show you around.” This wouldn’t be the first time Daisy had to explain the intricacies of her art to Jemma. Just like Daisy took awhile to grasp microscopic biochemical processes, Jemma was not adept at interpreting art.

Daisy just smiled. “Don’t you recognize them?”

Jemma furrowed her brow. Why would she recognize doodles on gum wrappers? Daisy guided her back to the one by the door. It was a crumpled gum wrapped that had been laid flat with two poorly-drawn stick figure girls sitting in desks speaking. There was a tiny plaque under it with the title First Words.

It still wasn’t any clearer to Jemma, so Daisy took her hand and walked to the next one. This one was a lined piece of paper, clearly ripped out of a notebook, that had the same two girls at a long table, but one had some red scribble in her mouth and was titled Spaghetti Challenge. Jemma chuckled, since that one reminded her of the time in high school where Daisy had been dared to cram an entire spaghetti order into her mouth.

Daisy moved onto the next one and the pattern started to dawn on Jemma. The picture was on another gum wrapper and featured a small blue car and one of the girls leaving in it. The background was a wide road that faded into the distance where there was a big castle labelled College. The other girl had a small broken heart above her head. Daisy scratched her ear nervously and moved onto the next wall.

There was apparently quite a time skip here and the art style drastically improved. This one was drawn on a scrap of the same sturdy paper Daisy left lying around their apartment all the time for her class projects. It was a doodle of the two girls, which now that they had more fleshed out features, Jemma could tell were herself and Daisy, hugging in a café while another figure (presumably Bobbi) stole their food.

The next was a situation that Jemma recognized as one of their Friday movie nights in Daisy’s and Bobbi’s dorm, but she didn’t recognize the exact context. There seemed to be an astronaut sitting next to Jemma and Daisy was throwing tiny daggers at him. It was labelled Jealousy.

Jemma shot Daisy a curious look, but she just grinned and walked on.

The one that followed was obviously a focal point, with its multiple spotlights and larger frame. This one was also ripped out of a sketchbook, but it was a larger page and contained more detail. The simple, stick-figure style was the same but it had a light colored pencil gradient sketched into the sky above the two girls in a pool in an open field. Some flecks of white paint made up the stars accompanied by a single streak of white for a meteor. The plague underneath read Best Meteor Shower Ever. Jemma smirked at the memory.

The pattern continued. Sketches of Daisy and Jemma’s first date, second date, third date, that time Daisy made Jemma think she had gruesomely injured herself while making spaghetti, rendered in gory detail with vicious strokes of a red pen, the time Jemma made Daisy snort soda out of her nose with a particularly bad pun. Every landmark of their relationship scratched out in minimalist form on the backs of gum wrappers, receipts, take-out menus, etc. Basically, anything Daisy could get her hands on at the time.

Jemma circled the gallery in awe. Daisy had kept these scraps of memories for years, almost a decade in some cases, and documented everything.

Jemma circled back to the beginning of the display and noticed a solitary frame in the middle of the back wall. There were multiple spotlights aimed at this one lonely picture, as well as one pointed at the floor a few feet away. Jemma moved closer to the tiny scrap framed on the wall so she could see the detail.

It was on a gum wrapped that was pressed so flat, all the creases had been carefully ironed out. The two girls were again the main feature.

One was standing in the middle of an art gallery looking shocked.

The other was in front of her, down on one knee.

Jemma gasped and whirled around. She hadn’t noticed Daisy drop her hand or leave her side, but she slipped away while Jemma was entranced with reliving their memories.

Now, Daisy knelt in the middle of the strategically placed spotlight, with a small velvet box in her shaking hands. Daisy pulled a smirk, but Jemma could tell it was wavering and she was cripplingly nervous.

Daisy opened and closed her mouth a few times before frowning amusedly at herself. “You know, I had this whole romantic spiel planned out once I got to this point, but…I kinda just forgot the whole thing.” Her eyes sparkled with happy tears. “And you crying definitely isn’t helping.”

Jemma hadn’t even realized that she had tears rolling down her cheeks. She gave a watery laugh and stepped towards Daisy.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, you know,” Jemma teased.

Daisy chuckled. “I know. But with all the crap we’ve been through, the one thing I’ve known the whole time, without a doubt…is that you and I belong together.”

That was it for Jemma. The tears flowed even more freely down her face as she threw her arms around Daisy’s neck. Daisy huffed a short laugh, but Jemma could tell from the dampness on her shoulder that Daisy was crying too.

“So, is that a yes?” Daisy muttered into Jemma’s neck.

Jemma laughed breathlessly. “Of course it’s a yes.”

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

Wise men say, only fools rush in.

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

The minute the first chords of the song played, Daisy hoisted up the front of her dress and squeezed through the crowd toward Jemma. Jemma was sprawled out across two chairs at the 'in-laws’ table, her bare feet propped up on one and her discarded high heels tucked underneath it. Any other time, Daisy would have stopped just to watch her giggling into her glass of champagne with her family around her—now Daisy’s family as well, she realized with a jolt—but right now, she was on a mission.

“Can I steal you for a dance?” Daisy asked, extended a hand to Jemma. Jemma turned her flushed face towards Daisy and beamed. She set her glass down on the table and rose to meet Daisy with more grace than Daisy was expecting, given the amount of champagne Jemma had already consumed. Still, she took Daisy’s hand and strolled out to the center of the dance floor beside her.

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Somethings are meant to be

Take my hand, and take my whole life, too

The standard hold for a partner dance was too distant for both Daisy and Jemma’s tastes, so they smushed the combined bulk of both of their white dresses together and held each other in a hug-like embrace while they swayed on the floor. All the practice they had done in Daisy’s cramped apartment the preceding weeks was unnecessary. It didn’t matter how they looked or how well they could waltz.

All that mattered was that Daisy now could hold Jemma, her wife, as tight as she wanted and nothing was going to take her away. As Daisy glanced out the windows of the banquet hall, over the bright city lights that glistened off every surface, Daisy started to understand why Jemma loved this sappy song.

So won’t you please

Take my hand, and take my whole life, too.

'Cause I can’t help falling in love

In love with you

'Cause I can’t help

Falling in love

With

You.

The End.

#strangegameprofessor #skimmons #bioquake #jemma simmons/daisy johnson #can't help falling in love #Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.#fluff #like super fluff

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