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komoreangel · 3 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

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writing-essence · 5 years

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Daddy Issues - Carlisle Cullen

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x (female) reader

Warnings: Abuse, age gap, language, very cliche

Summary: Reader is Bella’s friend and she starts falling for a certain doctor.

Author’s Note: I know this isn’t what anyone wanted but I wrote it anyway. -Kelsie

Word Count: 2,489

Spending the night in the hospital wasn’t how you thought your Friday night would go, yet there you were. How did you end up in this situation in the first place?

After school let out, Bella invited you to go with her and Edward to the hospital to visit his father. Once arriving at the hospital the doctor was very busy so the three of you busied yourselves with homework in the waiting room. You couldn’t remember quite why Edward needed to see his dad, but you didn’t mind waiting. Anything was better than going home.

You three spent a few hours in the quiet waiting room doing homework, and by the time you finished you felt pretty good- despite your pounding headache of course. You rubbed the sides of your head in an attempt to make the pain go away, but it didn’t work. Bella mumbled something under her breath about how you never drank enough water but you ignored her.

Edward decided that he wouldn’t keep you and Bella waiting any longer in the hospital so he stood up quickly, offering to drive you both home. It was getting dark outside already so you decided it would be a good idea. You must have stood up a little too quickly though, because the next thing you knew you were laying in a hospital bed looking up at Dr. Cullen above you.

“You’re awake,” He stated cheerfully, grabbing the clipboard at the end of your hospital bed.

“What happened?” You asked, sitting up.

“You fainted,” He said, flipping through your paperwork, “Dehydration. Luckily Edward was there to catch you or you might have ended up with a concussion as well,”

Bella was right.

“I hope you don’t mind,” He continued, “I sent him and Bella home, it was getting late,”

Late? How late? You looked over to the clock on the wall that read 10:30pm.

“Oh shit,” You gasped, throwing the wool blanket off of you, “I have to get home, it’s past curfew,”

“Slow down,” Dr. Cullen rushed to your side quickly, placing a strong hand on your shoulder, keeping you seated on the bed.

“My dad’s gonna kill me,” You said, looking up at him, “I need to leave,”

“You can,” He smiled down at you charmingly and your stomach flipped, “At least let me take the IV out of your arm first,”

He held your arm with one hand and slowly took out the IV with the other. His skin was ice cold against yours. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but enjoy the skin-on-skin contact.

“Thank you,” You mumbled as he helped you out of the bed.

“My shift is over,” He said, watching you as you put your shoes on, “if you need a ride home?”

You glanced up at him confused. It seemed a bit inappropriate seeing as he was your doctor. It wouldn’t be too weird though, right? He was Edwards dad just trying to do you a favor. As long as you didn’t think too much about your little schoolgirl crush on him, it would be fine. You were 18 anyway.

“That’d be nice,” You smiled, trying to hide your blush.

You followed him out of the hospital and into the crowded parking lot to his car. He helped you in- which seemed a bit unnecessary to you, but you let him anyway.

“I really appreciate this,” You said as he got into the drivers side.

“Of course,” He smiled at you- once again causing your stomach to flip, “A friend of Edwards is a friend of mine,”

The ride to your house was rather quiet, but not awkward. Once he pulled up in front, you glanced nervously at the clock.

11:00

He must have sensed your hesitation.

“Everything okay?” He asked, leaning toward you a tad.

“Yea,” You nodded quickly, “I’m fine, I just…” You didn’t finish as you stared at your front door, worried.

“If you feel faint again, don’t hesitate to call me,”

You turned to see him quickly writing his number down on a scrap of paper.

“Thank you,” You took the paper from him and shoved it in your pocket quickly, “Thanks again for the ride,”

You quickly grabbed your bag and stepped out of the warm car into the cold night of the pacific northwest. He waited until you were at your front door before driving off, which you appreciated.

You smiled softly to yourself before opening your front door. To your relief, your parents were both asleep on the couch. You snuck quietly over to your room and closed the door quickly behind you. Pulling out the slip of paper with his number on it, you admired his neat handwriting for a moment before setting it on your dresser.

The next few days passed smoothly- your parents didn’t seem to notice that you missed curfew Friday night. You spent Sunday at a farmer’s market with Bella and Edward. Edward was dropped off by his father at the entrance, who ushered for you to come over. You leaned into the passenger’s side window once Edward was out and talking with Bella by the gate.

“Dr. Cullen,” You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail over his face and to his smooth hair that seemed to always stay in place.

“Please,” He laughed slightly, “Call me Carlisle,”

“Okay,” You breathed, trying not to lean in more toward him, “Carlisle, I’ve been feeling a lot better,”

“Good!” He smiled, and your breath hitched in your throat as he took off his dark sunglasses to look at you, “You’ve been drinking a lot of water?”

“Yes sir,”

He smirked before looking away.

“Anyway,” He said, clearing his throat, “You guys enjoy yourselves,”

“Thanks!” You backed up from his car, “Have a good Sunday!”

He smiled again before driving off.

“What was that?”

You turned to see Bella next to you with a confused expression.

“What was what?” You asked, also confused.

“You were flirting with him,”

“Was not,”

“You were,” Edward added, stepping forward, “You like him,”

“I have daddy issues,” You scoffed, “I like every older man I meet,”

You walked off quickly toward the market, hoping they would just take it as a joke, but the both of them sent each other awkward glances once you turned your back.

That night once you got home, your father was leaning against the wall in the living room.

“Hi Dad,” You closed the door behind you slowly, “How’s your Sunday been?”

“Where were you?” He asked, ignoring your question.

“Farmers market,” You answered simply, setting your bag down.

“Why did a boy drop you off?”

“Who? Edward?” You asked, “He’s Bella’s boyfriend, Dad,”

“I don’t care,”

Your stomach dropped as he stepped toward you. You could smell the liquor on him. Who knows how many drinks he had before you came home.

“It won’t happen again,” You mumbled, looking down, “I’m sorry,”

“You’re right,” He said, lighting a cigar once he was standing directly in front of you, “It won’t happen again,”

He blew the smoke directly in your face and you tried hiding your quiet cough.

“What’d I say about boys?”

“I can’t hang out with them,” You glanced over at your mom who was sitting on the couch for some sort of help, but she kept her eyes down on the magazine in front of her.

“That’s right,” He said, grabbing your wrist, “How am I supposed to trust you when you break my rules?”

His grip on your wrist tightened when you tried pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” You said again, “I promise it won’t happen again,”

Your reasoning seemed to be going right through him tonight, you couldn’t even make eye contact with him he was so drunk.

“Daddy please,” You whispered as you tried pulling your wrist away again. His grip tightened again and you held in a whimper.

“I’m getting real tired of your bullshit,” He slurred, coughing slightly from the smoke that was now filling the small living room.

“I’m sorry,”

He coughed some more before slamming the lit end of his cigar suddenly down onto your open palm. You let out a loud whimper as he finally let go of your wrist and walked away to his bedroom.

“Run it under some cold water,” Your mom mumbled before following him.

Once you were left alone in the living room you fell to your knees and cried silently. Your father had never gone this far before. You held your bruised wrist gently before grabbing your bag and quickly going into your bedroom and locking the door behind you.

Following your mother's instructions, you tried to run your hand under some cold water in your bathroom, but it hurt too much. You pulled away in defeat as more tears silently streamed down your face.

You glanced over at the slip of paper sitting on your dresser with Dr. Cullen’s number on it. You couldn’t bother him. It’s too late. How would you even explain what happened to him?

You tried to run your hand under the water again but couldn’t bear the pain enough to clean the wound.

Defeated, you grabbed the paper and quickly typed the number into your phone. It rang a few times before he finally picked up.

“Hello?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had just seen him that morning- yet you were happy to hear his voice again so soon.

“Carlisle?” You mumbled, trying to hold back more tears, “Um, it’s y/n,”

“y/n,” His voice perked up a bit, “is everything okay?”

“I um,” You sniffed a bit and looked down at your visibly bruised wrist, “I seemed to have hurt myself a little bit,” You laughed slightly, trying to make it seem like not that big of a deal, “I just, uhm, I need your help,”

“Of course,” he sounded worried but you tried to ignore it, “I’ll be over as quick as I can,”

“Can you pick me up at the end of the street?” You whispered, glancing toward your bedroom door.

“...sure,” He hesitated, “I’m on my way,”

You mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before hanging up and grabbing your bag, throwing it out of your bedroom window. You climbed-with great difficulty- out of the window as well and closed it quietly behind you. Then, you walked up the street toward the end of the road. About fifteen minutes passed before his familiar car pulled up next to you.

You quickly got inside, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you had been crying. He instantly reached over to your arm that you were cradling and pulled it toward him so he could look at it.

“I thought you said you hurt yourself,” He mumbled, pulling your sleeve up to look at your bruises.

“I’m sure I did something to condone it,” You whispered, looking away. You were surprised how comfortable you felt around him.

“y/n,” He whispered, running his cold hand over your bruised arm softly, “Nothing condones this,”

He set your arm back in your lap before starting the car up and quickly driving out of your neighborhood.

“Where are we going?” You asked, looking over at his frustrated expression. He was going 20 over the speed limit and you began to grow nervous.

“I’m taking you to my house,” He said, eyes glued to the road, “My equipment is there,”

“I’m sorry,” You sniffed, looking down.

“Don’t ever apologize to me,” He sounded angry, “Does Bella know?”

“Know what?” You asked, watching your surroundings speed by quickly outside the window.

“About your father,”

“Oh,” You mumbled, looking down again, “No… she’d probably tell Charlie,”

“As she should,”

You looked over at him quickly, “Please don’t tell him, my dad can’t get in trouble. He's the only person that can take care of my mom,”

He looked at you and in the passing of the street lights you could see the anger in his eyes clearly now.

“I’m sure you can find someone else,”

“Carlisle,” You were basically begging at this point, “ Please don’t tell anyone,”

He realized how much this meant to you and turned his attention back toward the road without saying anything. The rest of the ride was silent. You pulled up next to his large house after about ten minutes and he quickly helped you out of the low car and into the house. You would’ve been more in awe of the glamorous house but your attention stayed on your pained arm and Carlisle’s hand pressed against your lower back. He was leading you quickly through the house and the two of you finally reached an office with medical equipment in it.

He silently sat you down in the desk chair and pulled your sleeve up so he could once again see your arm. His cold hands trailed down the bruises and to your hand which he opened, exposing the cigar burn on your palm.

You had to admit, his movements were distracting you from the pain very well.

He left quickly to grab a wet towel before kneeling down in front of you and pressing it down on your palm firmly. You gasped, grabbing his thigh with your free hand and closing your eyes in pain.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled, continuing to rub your palm with the soaked towel. Then he took a burn ointment and rubbed it over the wound quickly.

“Holy shit,” You gasped, trying to catch your breath. It was the most pain you had ever been in.

Carlisle looked up at you with worried eyes and you realized your hand was still on his thigh.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, pulling it away quickly.

“It’s alright,” He said, still looking up at you, “This’ll take a while to heal, but the bruises shouldn't take as long,”

He grabbed a bag of ice and placed it on the worst parts of the bruises on your arm before wrapping it quickly with bandages.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, looking down.

He helped you up from the chair so you were standing directly in front of him. You were close enough to smell his cologne and you nervously looked up at him.

“I hope it’s not too much to ask,” He whispered, busying himself with the bandage around your arm, “that you stay the night,”

Your breath caught in your throat and you just stared up at him in awe.

“I don’t feel very comfortable sending you back there,” He explained further, “Our guest bed here has no sheets on it currently, so you can use mine,”

“Your sheets?” You asked, confused.

“My bed,”

Your mouth dropped open in protest but he stopped you quickly, “It’s no big deal, I promise,”

“I can’t,” You stumbled over your words, “I mean, you’ve already helped me so much- I can’t take your bed,”

“It’s no big deal,” He said again.

It seemed like you didn’t have much of a choice.

a/n: yo wtf this is the most cliche thing I've ever written but whateva 🤩 part 2 soon?

#carlisle cullen #Carlisle x reader #Carlisle imagine #Carlisle one shot #Carlisle oneshot #Carlisle fluff #Carlisle Cullen x reader #Carlisle Cullen imagine #Carlisle Cullen one shot #Carlisle Cullen oneshot #Carlisle Cullen fluff #twilight imagine #dr cullen #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight drabble #twilight fic

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dontmindthefangirling · 4 years

Text

Pandemic {t.h.}

part 2

Tom Holland x Medic!Reader

Summary: Y/N has to go back to the states as the coronavirus pandemic gets worse and Tom worries about her having to work

Warnings: angst; mention of death; swearing; more angst

Note: This a one-shot based off of my series Broken Nose but you don’t really have to have read it to know what’s going on; this is also a big shout-out to all of the people working to keep us safe during this pandemic and this idea came to me because working on the front lines can be scary and difficult

part 1

“Tom, you have to stop watching the news,” Harry said approaching his brother who was sitting on the edge of the couch, his knee bouncing up and down and his eyebrows permanently scrunched together.

“How?” Tom snapped, turning his head. “It’s everywhere.”

Ever since you left to go back to New York, Tom had been irritable, almost everything getting him angry or worked out. Harry was beginning to lose count of the amount of times he’s seen Tom angrily boxing out his emotions, punching a bag that was beginning to tear.

“I know, mate,” Harry sighed, sitting next to Tom on the couch and shutting the TV off.

“God, (Y/N) is in the middle of it all,” Tom almost whimpered, burying his face in his hands. He angrily ran his hands through his hair, letting out a frustrated groan.

“Have you talked to her?” Harry asked.

Tom shrugged. “Here and there. She’s working sixteen hour shifts every day.”

New York City was all over the news as the world struggled to control the pandemic. It had the most cases in the states, and it was a complete ghost town as everyone was ordered to stay at home. Everyone except you and all the other essential workers.

But you were on the front lines. You were constantly around people being sick and injured because emergency calls didn’t stop even for a pandemic.

Tom constantly worried about you all day and every day. He couldn’t sleep, he was barely hungry, and he felt nauseous with anxiety. The only people keeping him sane were Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine. They forced him to eat, they forced him to get out of bed, and they kept him going.

Yet you still remained in his thoughts. His biggest fear was of you getting infected with the virus. He wouldn’t be able to go see you, and he was terrified of losing you.

“She’s smart, mate,” Harry reassured Tom, placing a hand on his back. “She knows how to take precautions.”

Tom nodded numbly, staring down at his phone, waiting for you to text back and tell him you were okay for another day.

On the other side of the Atlantic, you were giving chest compressions in the back of an ambulance as it raced down the empty streets of New York City. You were sweating, and breathing was difficult through your mask, but you didn’t stop.

“(Y/N),” your partner James said, watching you. “I can take over if you need a break.”

The patient beneath you was a young patient, probably only in his thirties. He went into cardiac arrest when you had arrived to the scene. The call was initially for shortness of breath, and then things went south when the patient coded and his heart stopped.

You looked down at him, seeing the blue around his lips as you pressed deeply into his chest.

“No, I got it,” you grunted.

James sighed, adjusting the bags of medication that was dripping into the patient’s IV.

Moments later you were pulling into the emergency department of one of the many hospitals in New York. The driver of your ambulance jumped out and rushed to open the doors. You continued compressions as the stretcher was pulled from the truck.

Because of COVID-19, you were no longer allowed to enter the emergency room, and had to do all of your reporting outside while the doctors and techs came out and took your patients from them.

You already called the patient in, telling them that he was a potential COVID-19 patient due to the shortness of breath, so the hospital could properly prepare with appropriate protective equipment.

One of the doctors took the patient from you while you gave the report to the nurse.

"How long has he been down?” the doctor asked you while one of her techs began compressions.

You sighed. “Fifteen minutes.”

“No signal on the EKG?”

“None.”

The doctor sighed, turning to her staff and telling them to call it off.

“Time of death, 14:03,” the doctor called glancing down at her watch while one of the scribes wrote it down. Your heart sank as they moved the patient so your crew could get their stretcher back. A sheet was placed over his face and that was it for you.

You bit back as a sob as you stormed back over to your truck, ripping your mask off and resting your forehead against the truck. James was hot on your heels, running over to you.

“(Y/N)-”

“Fuck!” you yelled, punching the ambulance. Tears swelled in your eyes as you turned around, and looked up at the sky. It was too nice of a day for how you were feeling.

You were exhausted and worn out and your feet hurt from your boots. You had been working from eight in the morning until midnight every day for the last two weeks and you were spent.

You were happy to be working with James, he was your best friend and he had been your partner for years, but this whole pandemic was taking its toll on everyone you knew that was working. Every day was getting harder and harder and you didn’t know when it would end.

There were a few co-workers that had been diagnosed with COVID-19 but they were isolated. Another few had been possibly exposed and were required to self-quarantine for two weeks.

You and James had a few scares, but for every patient tested that you had had, they all came back negative. You knew they would test the poor patient that you just lost for the virus as well, and you and James would know if he was positive or negative in the next day or so.

James was silent as he stood next to you. You knew he was tired too. Every day was a new challenge, but you were in this together.

“We have to go clean the stretcher,” you muttered under your breath.

“I know,” James sighed. “In a minute.”

You were both watching the puffy white clouds float by, and for a moment you felt a little peaceful.

You missed Tom. God, you missed him so much. The time difference made it almost impossible to FaceTime since you got off work at midnight and it was five in the morning in London. Tom said he would get up to talk to you, but it also didn’t help that you needed all the sleep you could get before your next sixteen hour shift.

There were a few times where you were waiting for calls and you managed to sneak in a few FaceTimes while working, but those were rare.

You inhaled sharply before putting your mask back on. You were only given one mask for the day, and you had to re-use it.

“Ready?” James asked, glancing at you.

“Ready.”

Tom was sitting around the fire with his friends when his phone rang. He almost wanted to ignore it, not really in the mood to speak to anyone until he saw that it was you.

“(Y/N),” he almost exclaimed, excitedly answering and stepping away from the fire for a minute.

“Hi Tommy,” you said, your voice bringing a sort of happiness that he could feel in his bones.

“How are you?” he choked out, worried that if he asked too many questions you would have to end the call before you could answer them.

“Tired,” you admitted. “We’re on our way back to the station to pick up some more cleaning supplies before we go back on the road.”

“How’s your day been so far?” he asked.

You sighed. “Not great.”

Your answers were always short, especially when you were upset, and that only made Tom worry more. He knew that you didn’t like to talk about what happened at work, especially when it wasn’t a great day, much to his protests. But he didn’t want to push you either. You’d tell him when you were ready.

“I just...can’t save everyone and it’s getting to me,” you continued, to Tom’s surprise.

“I know darling,” Tom whispered. “That’s what makes you a great medic. You want to save everybody.”

“I guess,” you mumbled. There was a short silence between you before you spoke up again.

“I miss you.”

Tom blinked away his tears and held the phone closely to his ear, like he was holding you closer.

“I miss you, too.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft, making Tom miss the nights where he would hold you close.

“I’m hanging in there,” Tom said, running a hand through his hair. “The boys are keeping me sane, but I’m worried about you.”

He glanced over to where his friends were sitting by the fire, Tuwaine and Harry were throwing ping pong balls at Harrison, who was swatting them away while yelling at them to stop. The sight brought a small smile to Tom’s lips.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said sternly. “It’s bad for your health.”

Tom chuckled. He could picture you with your arms crossed and your eyebrows furrowed in a way that he thought was really cute.

“Sorry doc.”

You giggled, the sound sending a warmth spreading throughout Tom’s chest.

“I’m serious though. I’m okay,” you continued. “It’s hard, sure, but I have a lot of support here.”

“I know,” Tom sighed. “I just want you to be safe.”

“Aren’t I always?”

Tom smiled. “Of course darlin’.”

“You’re the one that does flips and shit. Remember when you broke your nose?” you continued, a teasing tone lining your words. Tom chuckled.

“Which time?”

You laughed, and it almost hurt how much Tom missed hearing your voice, your laugh, your everything.

“I’m sorry babe, I have to go,” you said sadly, making Tom’s heart drop. “We’re at the station.”

“That’s okay love,” Tom said though his heart felt heavy. “Go save some lives.”

“I will,” you said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The call ended and Tom was left feeling empty, although glad he got to talk to you when he did. He stared at his dark phone screen for a moment, wishing he was still talking to you.

The sound of his friends laughing brought him back to reality as he walked back over to them.

“How’s (Y/N)?” Tuwaine asked.

“She’s okay,” Tom responded, taking his seat. “Tired, but okay.”

After you and James restocked your truck, you hopped back in and headed back out onto the streets to await your next call. New York was empty and it brought chills to your spine every time you drove through Times Square.

James sat in the driver’s seat as you headed to your posting location; basically the place you camped out until you got a 9-1-1 call.

“Tom okay?” James asked.

“Yeah, he said he’s okay,” you sighed, staring out the window as you drove down an empty 5th Ave. “I dunno, I’m worried about him.”

“He’s worried about you, you’re worried about him,” James said. “That’s not good.”

“I told him not to worry about me,” you protested.

James gave you a look and rolled his eyes.

“What?” you demanded.

“(Y/N) for someone so smart, you really can be dumb sometimes,” James laughed.

“Excuse me!”

“You’re a paramedic during a pandemic,” James sighed, bringing the seriousness back to his voice. “My friends and family are worried about me, too. You can’t blame him for worrying.”

You knew James was right, but you hated to admit it. It would only inflate his ego more. You looked out the window, spotting all of your favorite places in the city that you called home. You hated what this virus was doing to it.

“I just want him to be okay,” you mumbled.

“And he will be,” James assured you. “He’s got his friends and family with him. They’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Isn’t that my job?” you sighed, turning back to look at James. “I’m his girlfriend.”

James gave you a close-lipped smile. “Right now, your job is to make sure the millions of people in this city are okay.”

Your heart twisted at his words. The weight of the situation sometimes didn’t hit you because you were constantly on the move. But when you gave yourself a moment to sit back and reflect on what was going on, it would be a little too much for you to handle. And the thought of Tom thinking of that all day made you upset. You didn’t want him to carry the burden of your problems.

Suddenly a call came in through the radio. James responded and flicked the lights and sirens on as you made your way towards the emergency.

You were looking ahead at the street when your phone buzzed with a notification. You glanced down, seeing it was Instagram. “tomholland2013 tagged you in a post.”

You frowned, quickly opening it as James turned down another street. It was a picture Tom had snapped of you and James on set of Spider-Man: Far From Home in your uniforms. James had his arm around your shoulder and Jacob was playing with one of your stethoscopes in the back.

The caption read: So proud of all of the healthcare workers out there keeping us safe. I may play a superhero in the movies but you guys are the superheroes in real life. Thank you healthcare workers! #stayhome

Your eyes welled up with tears as a smile broke out onto your face. You and Tom weren’t public with your relationship yet, but this was all you needed to keep you going for the rest of your shift.

You texted Tom quickly as you pulled up to the scene.

Y/N: I love you

You jumped out of the ambulance just as Tom texted you back.

Tom: I love you too, my little superhero

You took a deep breath, adjusting your mask as you hoisted the medicine kit up onto your shoulder.

Maybe you could do this.

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mordoriscalling · 4 years

Text

Life (of) Surprise (4/6)

Jaskier lies to his family about being engaged to Geralt for the second time… and there are way too many surprises involved.

Part 4 of the Singer and the Sailor AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway (again). The chapter count went up again because I just can’t stop writing this story lmao.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

IV - A Surprise Discovery

Geralt is certain that a stag do shouldn’t involve this much crying.

The evening started innocently enough. They have had a room rented at a fancy club and they’re drinking, talking and playing cards. Geralt would rather do this at home but Lambert and Eskel told him not to be so “tragically boring”, hence the current arrangement.

Geralt’s been spending the day with “the guys”: Eskel, Lambert, Aiden, Vesemir, as well as his soon-to-be brother-in-law Silvio and not-quite soon-to-be brother-in-law Nasir. Jaskier, on the other hand, is away partying with “the girls”: Rozalia, Amelia, Triss, Essi and Yennefer.

Geralt hasn’t heard from Jaskier in a few hours, so he assumes his soon-to-be husband (only two months left to the wedding, and isn’t that a thought) is enjoying himself. Geralt, for his part, is having fun too; the stag do isn’t a disaster at all.

Then, it gets better.

Because Eskel is crying.

They were talking about Essi, commenting on what a lovely person she is. Although she’s not exactly Geralt’s type (he’s into people who are more... feisty), he still agrees that she’s a great woman – loving, warm, intelligent and beautiful inside out. Vesemir commented that there had to be many people mourning the fact that she was taken.

Eskel, upon hearing this, started weeping.

“Should we tell him?” Aiden, sitting beside Geralt, murmurs to Lambert.

“Nah,” Lambert replies gleefully.

They watch as Eskel sheds tears, mumbling about how much he’s in love with Essi but he wouldn’t dare to ruin her current relationship because she deserves happiness and –

To be fair, they have drunk a lot at this point.

Silvio and Nasir are clearly holding back their laughter. Lambert doesn’t even bother and guffaws freely, to which Eskel pays no mind, so lost he is in his despair. Aiden hides his face in the crook of Lambert’s neck, his shoulders shaking.

Vesemir seems more tired and sick of their shit than usual, though sparks of amusement dance in his eyes.

“I wasn’t aware this relationship makes you cry,” he tells Eskel gruffly, playing along.

“It does!” Eskel whines, “I should be her boyfriend.”

Vesemir’s lips tremor but he manages to keep his cool as he asks, “And what’s her boyfriend’s name?”

Eskel opens his mouth to respond but he says nothing. His brow creases in thought – it’s visible how the wheels are turning in his head – and then the moment comes when something clicks in his brain.

“Wait,” he says, understanding slowly dawning in his face.

At this, everyone at the table collectively loses it. Geralt is laughing so hard he’s slapping his thigh. Silvio and Nasir are in convulsions. Lambert and Aiden are leaning against each other, wheezing. Vesemir has to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

Eskel is too happy at the discovery to even notice the amusement at his expense. “I am her boyfriend!” he exclaims with wonder. Letting out a joyful chuckle, he repeats, “I’m her boyfriend!” He reaches for the bottle of vodka on the table. “We should drink to this!”

At the same time, Vesemir answers, “No.” and Aiden replies, “Yes!”

Vesemir plucks the bottle from Eskel’s hands and says, “You’ve had enough for now, pup.”

Lambert starts arguing and Geralt rolls his eyes. He then proceeds to drag his older brother to the side and force a lot of water and some food into him. While he does this baby-sitting, the phone in his pocket rings. As Geralt pulls it out, he’s surprised to find Jaskier’s name displayed on the screen. Slightly worried, he picks up.

“Hey, my loveliest sailor,” Jaskier slurs, his voice unsteady and watery. “Can I –” A sniff. “Can I come?”

Geralt frowns, bemused. “Shouldn’t we spent this night apart?”

“Fuck that,” Jaskier grumbles, “I miss you.”

“You haven’t seen me in five hours.”

“So?” Jaskier asks. “I just... want to see you. Please?”

Jaskier sounds downright miserable. Geralt has nearly come to terms with the fact that he may never master the art of telling Jaskier no but he's not fully resigned to his fate yet.

“Okay,” he answers.

“Are sure, darling? I won’t come if you don’t want to, you know,” Jaskier babbles nervously, “I don’t want to make you do anything you–”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, “it’s fine, come here and bring the rest.”

Ever since their argument three months ago, Jaskier takes extreme care not to do anything without Geralt’s knowledge and consent. He keeps asking about every little idea, fretting and worrying whether he’s not overstepping. Most days, that’s the reassurance Geralt needs to keep believing in Jaskier's words. It does get tiring sometimes, though.

“All right.” Jaskier’s voice goes from resonating from the darkest depths of sadness to cheerful as the sun on a spring day in the span of those two words. “We’ll be there soon, my dearest.”

Geralt hums and hangs up.

After fifteen minutes more of trying to turn Eskel into a more or less functioning human being, Geralt witnesses the other stag do party members arrive. Jaskier opens the door to the room with a bang, his arms spread wide and a grin on his face.

“Geralt!” he exclaims and walks towards him with a prominent stagger in his step.

Before Geralt knows it, he has his arms full of drunk Jaskier. His fiancé peppers kisses all over his face and mumbles something nonsensical while Geralt holds him up, a smile tugging at his lips under all the loving attention.

In the corner of his eye, he can see the rest greeting each other, apart from Yennefer and Triss, who are watching him and Jaskier with a judgemental and an amused look respectively.

“Why are you here?” he asks Yen as Jaskier finally stops kissing him and embraces him instead.

“He was crying about how much he loves you,” she replies with an eye roll.

Triss snickers. “He was telling everyone about it, and I mean it. He wanted everyone in the club to know.”

Geralt stifles a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yennefer and Triss laugh. Jaskier raises his head and blinks up at him owlishly.

“Something wrong, my gorgeous sailor?” he asks.

Geralt really bemoans the fact that even a single look from Jaskier can affect him considerably.

“No, siren,” he sighs, “We should join the rest.”

They ask the staff to bring another table and more chairs, and soon, everyone is sitting comfortably, talking, playing and drinking. Everyone except Essi when it comes to the last part, at least; Geralt quickly notices that she doesn’t touch any alcohol. She claims that she simply doesn’t feel like drinking but Eskel, who sits beside her, starts fretting, concerned that she’s ill.

“I’m fine,” she assures him.

“You sure?” he asks, “You haven’t been feeling well recently. Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Geralt’s the only one watching the exchange, as everybody else is occupied with the ongoing conversation about the rules of Monopoly. He sees hesitation in Essi’s face. She bits her lip, seemingly considering something for a moment, but then looks up at Eskel and smiles. “I think I should,” she replies, “seeing that I’m pregnant.”

Geralt freezes in shock. Eskel’s brain visibly short-circuits.

“The fuck. But we –” he stammers out, “Why, I mean, how –”

“I don’t know,” Essi answers, her eyes wide and apprehensive, “I really have no idea.”

Eskel nods slowly, his expression still absolutely flabbergastered. “Fuck,” he says, with much feeling.

Essi looks at him closely, uncertainty colouring her lovely face. “I know this very unexpected and you never wanted a family but perhaps we can... talk about it? We don’t have to keep it but I –”

Eskel seems to finally snap out of his shocked state. “Essi, no,” he says quietly, taking her face in his hands, “I never let myself have a family, but now that the baby is here... Holy fuck,” he breathes out, one of his palms moving to touch her abdomen. “There’s a baby here?” he asks, his voice cracking. She nods with a watery smile, and he takes her into his arms. His whole frame is shaking now, and there’re tears in his eyes. “A baby,” he chokes out. His tear fall but his whole face is alight with joy.

Suddenly, Geralt’s throat is tight. He knows that Eskel never considered himself a father material because of all the issues he’s been battling since his childhood, just like Geralt and Lambert. Although he was quite a ladies man in his youth, he never allowed any relationship to get serious. Years passed like this, and Eskel’s now in his early forties, which is rather late to become a dad. Essi is six years younger than him, so it’s not early for parenthood for her either.

Yet, they both seem so happy now, and Geralt can’t get enough of seeing his brother like this, smiling and crying as he holds Essi and kisses her.

The rest of the table finally catches on that there’s something important happening. Then, the news is out, which brings their celebration to new heights. Jaskier is so happy and satisfied with himself that Geralt suspects his chest may soon burst from how much Jaskier puffs up with pride.

“See?” Jaskier tells Lambert, “I’m a better matchmaker than you!”

“I made a marriage happen!” Lambert replies.

“I made a baby happen! Beat that!”

Lambert scoffs, the picture of unimpressed. “Maybe you and Geralt are gonna have kids too.”

“We’ve already got two,” Geralt answers without thinking.

Jaskier lets out a shocked gasp, staring at him in disbelief, and Geralt slowly understands what he said.

It’s not that it’s not untrue – they do have two children under their care. The thing is that neither Ciri nor Dara is very likely to call Jaskier their dad. Technically speaking, Jaskier will soon become Ciri’s step-father, but Ciri sees him more as Geralt’s partner. In Dara’s eyes, Jaskier is a supportive, parental figure, but it'd be foolish to think that the boy could ever consider himself Jaskier’s child. Geralt knows that Jaskier realises how silly that wish is but he still seems to hope for it, deep, deep down.

“Geralt–” he says, tears welling up in his eyes.

For a stag do – even two of them at once – it’s too much crying involved.

***

“Shoes off, Geralt, honestly,” Jaskier complains, “Are you doing this on purpose every time?”

Geralt only grunts. His head is spinning, too much to be pleasant, and he doesn’t trust his mouth to form a dignified enough answer. Jaskier’s very drunk too, so he doesn’t comment on Geralt’s response, or lack thereof.

The two of them slowly make their way towards the bedroom. Jaskier’s house is rather large, though, and they’re many objects and corners they stumble into. The rucksack they’re causing makes them snicker but their amusement is cut short when walk by the living room – Ciri and Dara are there, sitting on the couch in front of the TV and observing the two of them with delight.

“What are you two doing up?” Jaskier slurs out, “It’s...” he looks at his hand, where a watch should be, but there isn’t. “It’s late.”

“We found an interesting show on TV,” Ciri replies innocently. Geralt doesn’t believe it for a minute.

“Well, sleep is important!” Jaskier exclaims, gesturing dramatically with the hand he doesn’t use to hold on to Geralt. “Go to bed!”

“Yes, Jaskier,” Dara answers.

“Young people like you should get a lot of sleep.”

“We know, Jaskier,” Ciri sighs.

Jaskier would go on about the significance of sleep for teenagers if he was allowed, so Geralt starts dragging him away. Before they disappear behind the corner, though, he turns back to Ciri and Dara, shooting them what he hopes is a withering look.

“Show’s over,” he growls out.

Ciri and Dara have the decency to look chastised.

Arriving in the bedroom successfully takes them a few more minutes. When they finally do, they go straight to the bed, not bothering to undress. Then, they’re kissing, messy and eager, but their bodies have a problem rising up to the challenge because of the copious amount of alcohol flowing through their veins. Jaskier breaks the kiss quickly anyway, saying that he’s about to be sick, and rushes to the bathroom.

After Geralt is left alone, he tries to process all the holy fucks of the day, primarily the reveal that Eskel is going to be a father and by extension, Geralt’s going to be an uncle. Then there’s the very fact that he marries Jaskier in two months. Geralt also has a memory of seeing Yennefer and Triss kissing during the party, and that is a lot to unpack as well.

The world is spinning as he lays in bed. He registers Jaskier returning and laying down beside him before he falls asleep.

It feels like no time passed at all when Geralt and Jaskier are waken up by noise. The loud thumping bores down into his skull, causing awful, throbbing pain. He sits up, groaning, and Jaskier does the same with a whimper.

Then, they hear Jaskier’s voice sing the first verses of Her Sweet Kiss and, suffice it to say, Geralt has had enough of that gods-damned fucking song and its techno remix especially.

“CIRILLA!” Geralt bellows.

“DARA!” Jaskier yells.

After a torturous minute, the music is turned off, but there’s no blessed silence. Instead, bright laughter reaches their ears. Geralt huffs, irritated, and checks the time on his phone. The fact that it’s one in the afternoon and that there’s a glass of water placed on his bedside table redeems Ciri and Dara slightly.

“Fucking hell,” Jaskier moans, messaging his temples, “I love my life.”

Strangely enough, there isn’t an ounce of sarcasm in Jaskier’s voice. Geralt turns to watch him closely, taking in his pale face, chapped lips and the grimace of pain twisting his features. “You do?” he asks.

Jaskier looks at him, the blue of his eyes as beautiful as always. “I do,” he answers softly, “My life is so much better with you in it.”

Warmth explodes in his chest and Geralt moves closer, kissing Jaskier on the mouth, the cheek, the nose, hoping to convey what he finds himself unable to say. Jaskier responds to the affection with a happy hum, angling his face so get more kisses. Geralt indulges him gladly, pecking him on his forehead, his brows, under his eyes, down his neck.

“So much better indeed,” Jaskier purrs.

Geralt chuckles. “That is thanks to Lambert.”

“Oh shut up.”

Jaskier’s grumble is so grumpy that Geralt can’t help but laugh. Jaskier carries on grouching about being better than Lambert, and it keeps making Geralt laugh.

He couldn’t be more glad that he’s stayed.

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #modern au #The Sailor and the Singer AU

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peaceisadirtyword · 5 years

Text

Surprise (Alex Høgh/Reader)

A/N: Hello! Today is Alex’s bday♥️ so I wrote this lovely anon’s request for today, as it’s the special day. I hope you like it and let me know what you think (I'm not very confident with this one, but I really didn’t have time to rewrite it).

Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of alcohol... And I think my bad writing, sorry.

Words: 1984

gif belongs to @alessandra-ives (and it’s my weakness)

It was only 11am and he already had to charge his phone twice. He usually received a thousand messages and notifications every day, but that day was special.

Everyone had been wishing him a happy birthday since the night before, and he had spent a good few hours on his phone, answering some messages and talking to his family.

Alex had been looking forward to that day for months, but a week ago his happiness had been crushed when he discovered he'd be alone on his birthday.

Well not alone alone, some of his closest friends were gonna go visit him that night for a few drinks. But you wouldn't be there there.

The plan had been amazing. You'd fly to Copenhagen the day before his birthday, and would spend an entire week in there, with him. It had been months since he last saw you, and he missed you so much...

But your boss had ruined everything, and now you had to work for the entire week, so your trip was cancelled.

You had promised to call, though... He'd do a video-call with you when all of his friends were in there, to talk to you for a bit... And maybe pretend you were in there with him.

He was on the couch, with the tv on and a book on his lap, but his eyes were glued to his phone. He had turned off all the notifications, and when it started to ring, he immediately picked it up.

"Hey" he smiled widely.

"Hi!" Your voice made him chuckle in happiness, you couldn't call him for a few days, and he missed it "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks" he bit his lip

"How is everything going? How are you?"

"I'm fine, I received lots and lots of messages, I wish I could reply to all of them but" he sighed "Too many"

"Well, I'm glad no one forgot... What are the plans for tonight?"

Alex's smile faltered a bit.

"Marco is coming, and some other friends, we're gonna have a few drinks... Nothing too big" he shrugged.

"Sounds fun!" you bit your lip at the other side of the phone, noticing how his tone dropped a bit "I really wish I could be there, Alex"

"I know" he run his hand through his hair "It's fine"

"I promise I will go there soon"

"Of course, and I'll go there too" he smiled again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you frowned "I don't want you unhappy on your birthday, Alex, I... Feel bad"

"Hey don't feel bad, okay?" He got up from the couch and started pacing around the living room "It's not your fault your boss is an asshole, I know you tried, and I'm not unhappy, I swear"

"Really?"

"Yes, come on" he chuckled again "We'll make a video-call, and I'll have an amazing birthday, and the next time you're here, we'll celebrate it again, don't feel bad"

"Okay" you smiled softly "I have a birthday present for you, by the way"

"Does it include a nude?"

"No! Oh my god you're an idiot" you laughed "Shut up, it's not that"

Alex chuckled, leaning into the wall and looking out the window.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it"

"I hope so"

"Y/N, I'll love it, even if it's a paper bag, I'll love it because you gave it to me"

"Oh my god how do you know it's a paper bag?"

He laughed again.

"Anyway, I have to go to work" you said, and his smile faltered again.

"Okay, tell me when you got home and I'll call you"

"I will, enjoy your day, okay? Marco will tell me if you don't have fun"

"I will get wasted, don't worry"

"I love you, Alex"

"I love you too, Y/N" the words brought a smile to his lips "Bye, gorgeous"

"Look at you! You are taller" his friends' hugs almost made him lost balance, and he had to put his hand on the wall to support himself, laughing "Happy birthday Alex!"

"Fuck you" he hugged his friend back before he let him go and enter his apartment, now full of very loud and already half drunk people.

He was feeling good, he still missed you but knowing he would see your face soon (even if it was on his laptop screen) made him feel a bit better.

His phone vibrated on the table, and he smiled widely before taking his laptop and turning it on. Marco, who saw him and smirked.

"Are you going to call Y/N?" He asked, sitting next to him.

"Yeah, she texted me saying she's at home now, so I'm going to call her"

"It's a shame she can't be here" he sighed, taking a sip of his beer "When will she come?"

"I don't know, she has to ask for some free days at work and... Well, I'll go there if she cannot come" Alex shrugged, not really wanting to think how much time he still had left to see you again.

You picked up the call immediately, and as soon as your voice sounded on the room, everyone got quiet, sitting on the couch next to Alex and Marco to greet you.

"Hey guys!" You smiled excitedly.

"Y/N! We need you! Alex has only drank three beers and has this annoying kicked puppy face..." said one of his friends, making everyone laugh. Alex hit his arm and looked back at the screen.

You looked beautiful, with your hair framing your angelic face in a way that made his heart start beating faster and faster. And you weren't even in the room.

"I thought you were at home" Alex frowned when he finally looked away from your face and noticed you were on the street.

"I'm going home" you smiled "I couldn't wait to call you, so..." Your cheeks reddened, and Alex's friends started mocking the way he smiled widely.

He noticed you had done your make up. Usually, you didn't do your make up for work, but maybe that day was special...

"Fuck, Alex, I need to go for a minute, the battery on my phone is getting really low" you bit your lip, and looked worried "Do you mind if I call you in five minutes from my laptop? I'll be home in a couple of minutes"

"Yeah, sure" Alex smiled again "Call me whenever you can"

"Okay, see you now, love you"

You finished the call before he had the chance to say it back, and rolled his eyes when his friends started laughing at him.

"I love you, Alex"

"Oh my god shut up" he laughed, kicking his friend.

And then, the doorbell rang.

He frowned in confusion. Everyone he invited was already in there...

"I'll get it, you stay here, in case Y/N calls you" Marco patted his shoulder and got up, walking to the door. Alex took his beer and drank a bit while looking at his phone in case you had texted him.

He was too busy reading some of the new messages he got, and he didn't notice how all of his friends went quiet. Until someone covered his eyes from behind the couch.

He gasped and heard some of his friends giggling around the room.

"Happy birthday, Alex"

That voice... No, but it couldn't be possible... But the smell and the voice were unmistakable...

"Y/N?!" He put your hands away softly and turned around. You were there, smiling and biting your lip as you always did whenever you were nervous. You giggled when you saw his confused face and widened eyes. He looked like a puppy "Fuck!"

He grabbed your waist and hugged you tightly, making you yelp in surprise when he lifted you easily over the backseat of the couch.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He sobbed in happiness, pressing his lips to yours.

You smiled into the kiss and hugged his neck.

"Surprise" you broke the kiss to look at him in the eyes "I'm staying for ten days"

"Ten days? Oh gods" he hid his face in your neck, a few tears of happiness rolling down his cheeks. He had dreamt to be with you for an entire day for months, and now he had ten days... "I love you, I missed you" he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening even more, as if he was afraid you'd leave again if he let you go.

"I love you, and I missed you too" you whispered.

"Hey, you two! Get a fucking room!"

Alex nearly forgot about his friends being in the same room.

"Sorry" he chuckled, wiping away his tears as he let you go. You already had your cheeks reddened and went back to bit your lip.

"Oh, he's crying!" More laughter, and this time Alex's laugh was a bit more louder.

"I can't believe you fooled me" he scoffed "I should have known, you sounded too happy this morning"

You two were the only ones left in his apartment. All his friends left after some hours of drinking, playing PS4 and even dancing and singing on the balcony.

"I wanted it to be a surprise" you shrugged, walking around the living room and taking the empty beer cans and the used glasses to take them to the kitchen "It was true I had to work yesterday, so I rescheduled my shifts and talked to some of my coworkers and to my boss so I could have a few days to surprise you" you smiled at him softly, who looked at you as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen "And... I needed some days more, because I have things to do in Copenhagen..." You bit your lip nervously, and Alex chuckled, throwing the cans to the trash and looking amused at your words.

"Okay, and what exactly do you have to do in Copenhagen?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I... It's the second part of the surprise" you crossed your arms on your chest and looked away.

What if he thinks it's the worst idea ever?

"Oh, the surprise has got more parts?" He laughed "You're going to be the death of me, woman"

He hugged you again, and you hummed happily when he kissed your forehead lovingly.

"Yeah, two more parts" you smiled as your back was pressed against the wall.

"Well, tell me" he looked at you expectantly, and you breathed deeply before answering.

"I'm going to... Well, I thought about it for a while, and I applied even if I knew they wouldn't call me, but I had to try, because it was a great opportunity and..."

"Yes?" He widened his eyes.

"I have a job interview in four days. Here, in Copenhagen"

Alex gasped, and you frowned, worried.

"That means..."

"That I'd move here, in case they... Hire me... Look, I understand if you think this it too much and I can call them and tell them I'm not interested and..."

"Shut up" he grabbed your face, grinning like an idiot "You living here with me would make me the happiest man in the world, Y/N"

He kissed you again, a passionate and needy kiss that left you panting and grabbing his shoulders to support yourself.

"Now, shall we go to bed?" He kissed your cheek and you blushed.

"Okay, but... You go first, I have to take the third part of your surprise!" You giggled excited, pushing him to his bedroom before running to the living room and taking the fragile package.

He was shirtless, preparing himself to get into bed when you entered the room, and he raised an eyebrow as you gave him the package, already excited to see his face when he saw that old camera he wanted so bad and that was so difficult to find.

"Happy birthday again, Alex"

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @credulouskhaleesi @gruffle1 @justacripple @heartbeats-wildly @inforapound @trashcanx @winchesterwife27

#alex høgh andersen #alex høgh imagine #alex høgh x reader #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings cast #alexbirthdayproject

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ladyboltontoyou · 6 years

Text

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter. 2

Warnings: Cursing probably. Smut.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: HELLO AGAIN. Listened to ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros while I wrote this lmao.(Okay I listened to it like three times in the span of the three hours it took me to write this) You should all listen to it, gave me young Arthur x reader vibes tbh, it’s super cute and happy. RIGHT OK so I hope you guys like this one as much as you enjoyed the first one, didn’t plan this to be more than a one-shot but more than one person wanted it to be so here I am. Hope the smut didn’t feel too rushed! I was going to do a few time skips but this just felt right to me. Thanks so much for your notes, comments, and reblogs, they mean the world to me.

It had been a week without any sign from Arthur, and on the seventh day you had almost given up hope. But he showed up right when you were about to fall asleep, knocking over a vase on your table when he climbed through the window it sat in front of.

You sat up in bed and pulled the sheets over you, frozen solid in fear for a good ten seconds before your eyes adjusted to the light and you made out Arthur picking up the vase from the floor.

“You scared the daylights out of me.” You whispered as you calmed down from the near heart attack.

“Your doors were locked, so I uh, knocked on the window. You didn’t wake up and, well, here I am.” He sounded slightly embarrassed, taking his jacket off to put on the floor. “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t need to do that, a little water is okay.” You said as you climbed to the foot of the bed, but his jacket had already soaked up the spilled liquid.

“Exactly. I’ve got other coats. At least it ain’t leather.” You both laughed a little at that and then you lit your bedside candle.

“Close the curtains, will you?”

He looked over his shoulder and realized he’d not only left the window open, but he gave a good view to anyone who looked up at the balcony. He quickly did as you asked, closing the window too. “You draw anything while I was gone?” He asked as he walked back over and sat in the chair at your table.

Another reason he was such a good man, he sat a respectable distance away from you when there was a whole bed he could have taken advantage of.

Which damn, you wished he would.

If there was anyone in the world who was sexually frustrated, it was a tie between you and Arthur. You had sex only once in your life, and it wasn’t even good. You had many other opportunities with pretty attractive people, but your family was almost constantly on you so you had no time to sneak away. And for Arthur, well, it’s self explanatory.

“A few things.” You admitted and crawled back to the head of your bed and pulled out the drawer of your nightstand. Your brand new sketch pad laid in there, your father had bought it for you a few days before since you had already filled up your last one.

“Really? Well, I’d love to see them.” He hated how vulnerable he felt then. Snuck into some girls room, knowing damn well he was a fool for being there. He fawned over you a little too much for his liking, last time he had butterflies over a girl he was very, very, very young. But that was the last thing on his mind for once. All he cared about now was the farmers daughter in her silk night-dress with the sketch book in her hands.

You opened to the first page where a simple sketch of a cat waited to be praised. “This is my cat Scully.”

Arthur got up from his seat and walked over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, squatting down at your knees so he could see properly. “Well, look at that.” He grinned and you handed the book over to him, which he gladly took. “How’d they get that?” He pointed to the right ear which was missing the top half.

You leaned over to look at what his finger pointed to and sighed. “One day when I was real young, I was playing outside and the neighbor's dog came over, guess he didn’t like how I smelt so he started growling at me. Scully, she saw me crying and came over, kicked its ass then chased it off.” You laughed when you remembered how your parents treated the cat afterward, taking her to the most expensive vet they could find. She was queen of the house from then on out.

Arthur snorted, his head bobbing slightly as he did so. “That so? She’s braver than any man I’ve ever met.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement. “You can go through them, there's only two more in there.” Your heart sped up in excitement when you remembered the last picture was something you’d done for him, a silhouette of him standing on your balcony overlooking your farm land.

He turned the page slow as to not wrinkle the expensive paper. When he saw the next one he raised his brows. “Christ, girl. You need to be selling these.”

The one he was looking at was a more detailed sketch, one you had done the day before. You still needed to do a little more shading on it, but it was mostly done. It was your parents sitting outside at the bench in your garden, they were both laughing and holding wine glasses. Your father had told your mother something funny and she was almost doubled over, one hand in front of her mouth and the other holding the glass outwards so she didn’t spill any on herself. They were surrounded by their roses and jasmine.

“How do you remember something like this?”

You shrugged with the biggest smile on your face and a blush in your cheeks. “Something like that just sticks.”

He looked up to you and shook his head before looking back down. “You’ve got me speechless.” He flipped to the next page and completely froze. He didn’t say anything for a minute, which worried you, but then he just let out a huff-like laugh of disbelief. “This me?” He knew it was him but for some reason he felt like he had to ask, just to hear you say it.

“Yes, it’s not weird, is it?” You asked while you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

Arthur scoffed and stood up before sitting down on your bed next to you, his eyes on the paper the whole time. “I’ve never seen myself the way you draw me. Even though this is just my damn figure.”His words really hit you. You knew what he meant by it and although you wanted him to explain it himself you knew it was something he wouldn’t go into detail about. He probably didn’t even mean to say it, it was most likely a slip of his tongue.

After what seemed like several minutes he closed the book and handed it back to you. “No, this is for you.” You opened the book back open and cleanly tore the page out, handing it to the man sitting next to you.

“I appreciate it. I really do.” He said and walked over to the table, setting it down on top of his satchel. His hand lingered there momentarily, considering taking out his own journal and giving you the paper he had spent days perfecting. Anxiety gnawed at him and he pulled his hand away, turning back to you. “Sorry I didn’t come back earlier, by the way. Got caught up in some business and ended up in Valentine for a while.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You waved him off. “You didn’t even have to come back, we barely even know each other. You got what you came for the first time anyways, you could have taken my hundred dollar drawing and sold it to make yourself a rich man.”

He laughed and sat down at the foot of your bed, making sure to keep a proper distance from you so he wouldn’t scare you off. If only he knew you wanted the complete opposite. “Now, a hundred-dollars isn’t very rich, why do that when I could keep coming back and get more? That would be one hell of a business.”

Where on this cold earth did this man come from? How were you so lucky to know such a good person? Given, you had only seen him two times, but he had still made a name for himself. He had a good sense of humor, he was polite, and goddamn he praised your art like it was god. If there was one sure way to your heart it was through that. And not to mention he was incredibly attractive. Fit as could be, well-groomed yet he had this dangerous look about him that said he could put you down in two seconds flat if you tried him.

You wished he would.

In an attempt to clear the dirty thoughts that had flood your head you brought up a new subject. “The last time you were here you said my drawing was better than yours, you never answered me when I asked if you drew too.” You said and tried to look casual as you watched him for a reaction.

He cleared his throat and looked away from your gaze, his eyes landing on everything in the room besides you. “I said that? Of course I would. That sounds like something I’d say.” He laughed to try to chase his anxiety off. “Sure, I do. A little bit.”

“Do you have anything you could show me?” You asked and pulled your legs back up onto the bed, making yourself comfortable as you continued watching him. It was hard not to, every single thing he did was mesmerizing.

He scratched his chin and sighed. “Yeah, I do.” He reluctantly grabbed his satchel from the table and pulled his own journal from it. “They’re not the best, but, well, look for yourself. There’s some writin’ in there too, pay no mind to that.” He handed you the worn leather book and you flipped through it. It was mostly full of wildlife, plants and scenery.

“These are really good. This wolf looks like a photograph.” You said as you went through the pages. Some of his work was way better than anything you could ever dream of drawing, but he probably thought the same about yours. There were a few small doodles that made your heart melt, like one of a poodle that looked like he drew under sixty seconds.

You had gotten so wrapped up in looking at the pages you didn’t even notice the way he was looking at you. He looked at you like he was seeing something so magnificent, and if he dared look away he would miss something. The way your eyes scanned over the paper, the way you would smile when you saw something you found his drunk doodles, it made him feel like he was drunk then and there. He had almost forgotten about what he drew you, on the newest page. When your expression changed to something unreadable his heart sped up and he shifted anxiously on the bed.

“This is me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Not because it was you, but because you knew it was the way he saw you. You were wearing that pretty white sundress you had worn the day he first saw you and you had jasmine flowers in your hair. You looked like you were in the middle of walking, your left hand trailing through the tall grass he had drawn you in. You had a small smile on your face and you were looking directly in front of you as if you knew you were being drawn. It looked amazing, so beautiful you couldn’t believe that was actually you. But sure enough it was identical. “I look so pretty.”

Arthur scratched the back of his head, torn between feeling utterly in love with you and feeling disgusted at how sappy and vulnerable he was. “I draw what I see.”

That was all you needed. You set the book down beside you and threw all your inhibitions out the window, crawling to the foot of the bed to kiss him. You took his face in your hands and pulled him towards you. His trimmed beard felt rough in your hands but you loved every bit of it. His lips felt even better against your own, they were hot and tasted raw as if he had been chewing on them for hours.

Arthur inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes wide and his hands raised off his lap in surprise. He wanted to push you off because he knew it was wrong and you’d regret it later. He told himself you had to have been drinking, there was no way any woman like you would kiss someone like him.

You were the one to end the kiss, but only because you were running out of breath. It seemed he had been too, since when you parted he sucked in a breath.

“Now why did you do that?” He asked immediately, his voice faultering.

“I don’t know.” You admitted with a shrug and a soft laugh. “I just wanted to. I’m sorry, I should have asked. I just, really… really like you, Arthur. I know we haven’t been in the same room as each other a total of ten hours… but I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this. I don’t know what the normal thing to do is when you like someone like this.”

Arthur shook his head and sighed. “Don’t do that. Please. Don’t.”

“Give me a reason.” You were still so close you were practically touching, your knees a hair length apart. “Because I don’t see any good reason not to.”

“(Y/N), I’m not a good person. I don’t know if I’ll stay around here long, I don’t normally stay in one place for too long. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, you’re a young beautiful woman. You could have any man, hell, any man or woman you’d ever want.”

“Really? Well, I want you.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head again. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, I want you, Arthur. I don’t want anyone else, not right now at least. And right now is all that matters.”

At your words he groaned, hearing the sentence ‘I want you’ coming from your mouth was too much for him. “But-”

You shut him up with another kiss, this one shorter but more heated. “Listen Arthur, I’m a big girl, okay? I won’t be heartbroken if we never see eachother again. I’ll be sad for a while, sure, but like you said. I’ve got my whole life. I’ll get over it.” You smiled and took off his hat, setting it beside him. “You think pretty highly of yourself if you think one night will be the end of me.”

Arthur laughed and finally looked at you. “You’re stubborn. You know that?”

“Of course I do. But now you’ve got me interested, what’s so good about you that you want to protect me from missing?” You questioned with an innocent smile, placing a hand on his knee.

He grew serious again and the playful smile disappeared. “(Y/N), I don’t think this is such a good idea.” He warned while he still had the mindset to think that deeply. Your hand on his knee wasn’t helping his good intentions. “If your folks-”

“Don’t worry about them. They sleep on the other side of the house with the river right outside their window. The only thing that will wake them is screaming, or the dogs outside. But don’t worry, I can be quiet.” You winked and took his hand in yours, impressed by how huge they seemed compared to you. “Please?”

There was no way of explaining how you got the idea to start kissing his fingers, it just felt right. Arthur closed his eyes and groaned in the ‘What have I gotten myself into’ type of way. There was no way he could say no to you, not when you were doing… that. “Christ, woman.” He hissed when you pulled him forwards towards the head of the bed.

He took a quick second to take his boots off and blow out the candle, providing you with a more comfortable sense of safety. There was no way anyone besides the two of you could see what was going on in your room.

He climbed back on the bed and kissed you, one hand on your cheek and one on the bed beside you. Arthur kissed so sensual and deep that you felt like you were kissing someone you had been married to for your entire life. Your heart swelled and all the blood made its way between your legs in a hurry. “Take this off.” You whispered against his mouth as you unbuttoned the front of his shirt.

He finished the rest of the buttons, sitting up on his knees to pull his arms out of the shirt. Once it was off he hurried back to kissing you like his life depended on it. He loved the feeling so much he totally forgot about the rest of his clothes and only stopped when you placed your toes on his belt buckle and gently pushed him back.

You smiled when he laughed and shook his head at you. “What? Don’t like taking your time?” He teased and lowered his hands to unbuckle his belt. The imagery mixed with the gentle clink of metal as he took his belt off drove you mad.

“I do once the clothes are off.” You meant to tease him back but you sounded far too serious. He had nothing to say to that so he just finished taking his belt off, laying it with his hat at the foot of the bed. When he leaned forward again you stopped him with your foot on his chest. “Keep going.”

“Maybe you should've been the one warning me.” He breathed and pulled his pants down his hips, standing from the bed to pull them off the rest of the way. “There’s no way I could have you just once.”

Good. You thought. You didn’t want him just once either.

Once he finally got his pants off you felt it was unfair that you were still fully clothed so you reached under your dress and pulled down your panties. He watched as you pulled them off of your raised feet with a look that just screamed sex. “Am I dreamin’?” He asked with a laugh, sliding back onto the bed in front of you.

“Come here and find out.” You grinned and spread your legs a bit, just enough to notice but not enough for him to see anything exciting.

“Jesus, woman.” His voice was barely a whisper and he leaned back into you, grabbing your waist gently to pull you flat on your back, his hips pressed flush against you. You could feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of his underwear and it drove you fucking crazy. He finally started taking the lead then and he slipped his hand between the two of you, sliding his fingers down your slick folds to your entrance. When he pushed a finger inside of you the both of you gasped, he didn’t expect you to feel so good around him.

“Oh, fuck.” You muttered and closed your eyes, grabbing onto his biceps. His arm muscles tensed under your touch, mostly his right arm since that was the one with its fingers inside you.

He kept at that for a while, curling it inside you in sync with the beat of his heart. You came just from that. When he felt you tense up around him mixed with the feeling of hot cum oozing down his hand he lost any patience he had left. He took his hand out from between your legs and kissed you again, using his right hand to take the last article of clothing he had off. When he pressed back down into you the breath hitched in your throat.

“God.” You moaned and moved your hands from his arms up to tangle into his hair. “I want you so bad, Arthur.”

As if he couldn’t be in any more of a hurry, you had to go and say that.

“You have no idea.” He said with a grunt and used a hand to guide the tip of his cock against you. He rubbed it up and down your slit a few times and you let out the filthiest sound he had ever heard. You locked your ankles around his back and pushed him into you, catching him by surprise.

The feeling of his cock fully inside of you was indescribable. You arched your back and rolled your head back into the pillows. He groaned and grabbed the bottom of your nightgown to pull off of you. You had to help him get it off your shoulders. After it finally came off he sighed, looking down at your body.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered and leaned back down into you. His thrusts were slow, but only for a few of them. Once he was sure you were ready he let himself go completely. You pulled his head down to yours and kissed him again as his cock drove in and out of you at a quick steady pace. He felt so amazing inside you, the feeling of his cock rubbing against that one special spot gave you your second orgasm.

Your third came when he rough handled you a little bit for the first time, he had grabbed your thighs roughly and slammed himself inside you about four times. The sheer force of it all knocked the air out of your lungs and left you paralyzed. The fourth time you came he had flipped you onto your stomach. The way he could manhandle you to easily was so hot to you that you swore you fell in love with him then.

When he pushed his cock back into you at the new angle was when you came, and god, he felt it. He almost came with you but he thankfully had the will to pull out and give himself a few seconds to calm down. Once he had enough time he continued fucking you into your mattress.

This all went on for what only felt like a few minutes. You had no idea that you’d actually been at it for nearly two hours. You probably would have gone longer if you didn’t decide to sit in his lap, that had been what finished him off.

When you were on top of him his cock reached deeper inside you than it had ever been before. He was stunned for a second, unable to move as you rode his cock and pulled his head back by his hair. When you sunk your teeth into his neck was when he truly lost it. He came undone in you, grabbing you by your hips and forcing you down further onto his length.

The noises that came from him sounded so primal it led you to your final orgasm. Thank god you came with him because there was no way he’d be able to go again after that. He’d be surprised if he had the energy to climb down that lattice and onto his horse.

No one said anything for a good while but that was okay. You couldn’t talk if you tried. You were too busy gasping for breath to form words.

Arthur was the first to speak. “I should probably leave now, I told Dutch I’d only be out a few minutes.” He sighed when he remembered that the older man had told him not to stay out too long since the law was keeping an eye out for them. You had no idea who Dutch was but you nodded anyways.

“Alright. I should go to sleep anyways, I’ve got to wake up early in the morning to go to town with my mother.”

Arthur nodded and ran a hand through his sweaty hair, noticing how messy it had become. Before he came over he had made sure it looked nice but now he was sure it looked as if he had no idea what a comb was.

You watched him pull his clothes back on, almost forgetting his hat and belt. He slipped your picture for him in his journal and safely secured it, sliding it back into his satchel.

After he gathered his things he gave you one last kiss at the doors, full of more passion than any others you had previously shared. “Could I come see you again sometime?” He asked after you parted with the most adorable smile on his face.

God. He was right in his warning, there was no way you could get over a smile like that.

“Arthur, you know the answer to that.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #rdr2 imagines #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan imagines #rdr2 smut #rdr2 x reader #request #ask #myfanfic #farmersdaughter

762 notes · View notes

foxyotomelady · 5 years

Text

It wasn’t supposed to be, Chapter X (JuminxOC/Reader)

Author’s notes:

Just be aware of angst and much of feels ;-;

Buy Me A Ko-Fi Have a nice reading!

Jumin had no idea how to deal with all this. It was even worse than when Riyu went out to meet with Jaehee and Zen. Then he could convince himself that his anxiety was groundless. Now... He had reason to be worried. He couldn't stop thinking that Riyu was with his father now. He couldn't stop wondering what they were doing together... The girl was very determined in her goal, so he was afraid even more... What she was able to force herself to do? When Assistant Kang entered his office, he did not even look at her, leaning over the desk, hands dug into his hair. "Mr. Han?" "Yes?" He still wasn't looking at her. "You have a meeting in a moment, sir. You don't look well..." "Start the meeting without me. I will join in about fifteen minutes." "Mr. Han... I don't know what's going on, but... Can I help you somehow?" He must have looked really bad since even she was asking about his well-being. "You don't need to worry, Assistant Kang. I'm just fed up with my father and his new woman." "Riyu...? But I thought you two were getting along, sir... " Jumin waved his hand, "Never mind. You can leave, Assistant Kang." Jumin waited for Jaehee to leave his office and dialed Seven's number. "Jumin?" Seven asked in surprise when he picked up the phone. "I have a task for you. Check Riyu's parents for me." Seven laughed maniacally, "Bold of you to assume that I didn't check on them already." "And what did you find?" "Surprisingly not much," Luciel's voice suddenly became serious. "Almost as if they don't exist. The only thing I could dig out was that they aren't her biological parents, Riyu was adopted." That was surprising and important news, but it couldn't help him at all. Jumin sighed, "Don't stop looking and keep me posted." "Juju, is something wrong going on?" Jumin didn't answer. He hung up.

Riyu grimaced in the smile when Mr. Chairman insisted that she should try on another expensive dress - of course, one that was in his taste. She did not need all this but she knew that she would offend him if she constantly refused, so she humbly accepted every present. While they were walking from shop to shop, sudden thought crossed Riyu's mind. She could use Mr. Han's generosity for one good purpose. "Mr. Han," She said sweetly and forced herself to put a hand on his shoulder. "I have one wish." "Wish, my dear? I will fulfill any of your wishes." "Some time ago, I and Jumin found puppies abandoned in the park. One of them is still looking for a home. Could I adopt him? Of course, when he is old enough. I would like to know if you would not mind his presence at home when we’ll live together." "Of course, darling. You can have any animal you want, any breed you choose." Riyu shook her head, "I just want to adopt this little mongrel." "You have a big and soft heart, haven't you? No wonder my son liked you." Riyu laughed nervously. She wasn't sure if Mr. Chairman hadn't said it ironically. Perhaps he really suspected something... In the evening, when they returned to the hotel, Riyu hoped to escape to her room, but Mr. Han insisted that they spend supper together, as he was going abroad again tomorrow. The supper went quietly, though awkwardly, until the old man began to behave suggestively. "Come, sit closer." When she reluctantly listened to him, he poured her a drink into her glass, although she did not ask for it. "Have a drink," He insisted. "You are very tense." Her hands were shaking as she drank in small sips and sometimes just dipped her mouth in a liquid to pretend to drink. Mr. Han was definitely more insistent than the previous evening, and it frightened her more and more. She almost choked when he put his hand on her thigh. "Relax, I won't do anything. I just want you to get used to my touch as you said." Riyu was sitting stiffly and told herself not to cry. The old man did nothing more, just kept his hand in place. "I'm not a bad person and I can give you everything you want." "I know that, Mr. Han," She whispered weakly and he finally took his hand away. "Go to bed, my dear. You are tired." Riyu blinked and dared to look at his face. Mr. Chairman looked lost in his thoughts, maybe even... sad? Was he beginning to doubt the sincerity of her feelings? Not good, she couldn't let that happen. She got up from the sofa, put down the empty glass and smiled sweetly at the old man, "Goodnight, Mr. Han. I would like to say goodbye to you tomorrow at the airport." That was all she could manage before she escaped into her room and closed the door behind her. After she took a shower - she had a second bathroom attached to the room - and changed into a nightgown, she hid under the covers and grabbed the phone. She wrote a message to Jumin. Tomorrow your father is going abroad again. I'll say goodbye to him at the airport tonight and go back to your apartment... If it's still an option. During this time, which Riyu spent with Mr. Chairman, she did not have many opportunities to contact Jumin. They exchanged rough messages sporadically, as they do now. The whole RFA had no idea where she was now. Jumin wrote back after a long moment. I'll send someone for you, just give me the exact time tomorrow. How's Elizabeth the 3rd? Does she miss me? She meows more often than usual, so I think so. I can't wait to see her again. Ah, Jumin, I'm adopting the last puppy. Your father agreed to keep the dog at home when I'll live with him. I understand. I'm glad the puppy found a home. Elizabeth the 3rd tells you a good night. Sweet dreams for you both ^^ Riyu... If something bad happens, don't hesitate to inform me. I'll send someone immediately. I know that, Jumin. Do not worry about me.

The next day Riyu and Mr. Chairman spent this day walking together, shopping and having dinner. It was surprisingly... No, she wouldn't say nice. But certainly not as terrible as the previous day. The old man kept his hands to himself, did not insist on closeness. It pleased her, but on the other hand, worried her - she could not let him lose interest in her. But so far, she had to do practically nothing so that he would be interested in her - nothing but smiles and kind words. That's why she had no idea what to do now. She wasn't a gold-digger. She had no... experience. The evening came quickly. The only time when Mr. Chairman touched her this day was at the airport when they were saying goodbye to each other - he kissed her hand - she could bear it. Driver Kim arrived for her and as she drove in the direction of Jumin's building, she felt immense relief, interspersed with stress. She was glad that she no longer had to spend time with the old man, but she was also afraid of how Jumin would react to her sight. She would not be surprised if he began to avoid her. Actually, it would be better for both of them... The security guard helped her with a suitcase and a bag of presents from Mr. Han. They rode the elevator in silence, and then Riyu insisted that he leave her packages at the door of the apartment. She didn't want him to accompany her when she'll meet Jumin. She took a deep breath, opened the door with her card, which she had received from Jumin some time ago, and came with packages inside. She set the suitcase down against the wall, the bag of presents still in her hand when Jumin faced her. They looked at each other in silence, and Riyu felt her heart beating painfully. Jumin looked somehow different... As if he was terribly tired. Did she do this to him? Did he sleep badly because of her? "Let me help you with that," He said suddenly and approached her to reach for the bag she was still holding. They found themselves very close together, Jumin's hand touched her hand, instead of taking the bag handle from her, his fingers gently wrapped around hers. Riyu shuddered, she was overcome with such strong emotions that she dropped her bag. It was as if someone had cut her legs suddenly, she almost felt weak. She clung to Jumin and hugged him tightly. "It was awful... It was a nightmare... I can't, I can't do this anymore... But I have to... Jumin, I don't want to marry your father... You were right all the time... I don't want to do this... But I have to! " She didn't want to cry either, but tears ran down her cheeks and she couldn't stop them. "Shh..." Jumin stroked her hair and back. "Has my father done you any harm?" Riyu shook her head, cuddling it in his chest, "No, no... But just his touch ...His presence alone..." "Shh... Don't think about it," He gently cupped her cheeks. Riyu took a step back, instinctively, looked up at him. Jumin leaned forward, and this time neither of them stopped what they both desperately wanted. He kissed her gently, slowly, probably tasted her tears that were still flowing from her eyes. She clenched her fingers on his shirt and sobbed as the kiss deepened. "Jumin... We can't..." "I don't care anymore," He said in a low voice and closed her mouth with a much more passionate kiss. Riyu stood on her toes to embrace his neck, sank her hand in the hair on his neck, pulled him closer. Jumin held her back with one hand and wandered her waist with the other. Suddenly she felt the wall behind her back, clung to it, struggling to cope with the passion that had awakened between them. No one has ever kissed her like that... "Don't cry..." Jumin whispered at her lips, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Talk to me and let me help you." She looked into his eyes sadly, "I can't, Jumin. It's too risky, even for you." Jumin closed his eyelids, sighed, then pulled her close to him in a tight embrace.

Mewing interrupted them. Riyu looked down and saw Elizabeth sitting at their feet, "Elizabeth!" She bent to take the cat in her arms and hugged her tightly. Jumin smiled, "Have you had dinner yet? If not, I will gladly accompany you." Jumin ordered food and soon they ate together as always. None of them wanted to talk about what had happened over the last few days. They just enjoyed each other presence. "What would you say for a movie night?" Jumin suggested when they finished eating. "It's a brilliant idea! What will we watch?" "It doesn't matter." Riyu decided to take a shower before they start the seans. When refreshed and dressed in a nightgown she left the bathroom and went to the living room, she found Jumin sleeping on the sofa. His shirt was loose, his hair messy. He must have fallen asleep here while he was waiting for her. Riyu approached him quietly and sat carefully next to him. She caressed his temple. Now she saw the dark circles under his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jumin... You deserve so much more," She whispered under her breath. "I wish I meet you in different circumstances." "Riyu..?" Jumin mumbled slowly, then rubbed his eyes. "Ah, yes, our movie night." Riyu leaned forward to kiss his forehead, "Don't be silly. You're exhausted. We'll do it another time." Jumin nodded, his eyes closing again, "Lie with me." Riyu smiled affectionately, "Let me just bring a blanket." Riyu quickly found the blanket, returned to Jumin, lay down next to him, and covered them with fluffy material. Jumin put his arms around her waist and she buried her head in his chest and took a deep breath. And just like that, in each other embrace, they fell asleep, Elizabeth the 3rd in their feet.

#angst #fanfiction #mysme fanfic #mystic mesenger #jumin x oc #jumin x reader #jumin han x reader #jumin han x oc #jumin #jumin han #seven #jaehee kang #they finally did it #I don't need to hold back anymooooreee #yessss

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lilacjaemin · 5 years

Text

lilies

pairing: mafia!yukhei x gender neutral reader

genre: pure angst

warnings: injuries, blood, major character death

word count: 1.3k tears

summary: yukhei makes one final phone call

a/n: there is more back and forth dialogue in this than ive ever written in my entire life omg. i wrote this while sad at an ungodly hour of the night,,,,enjoy?? can you even enjoy this idk

“baby,” you heard him breathe out, “i’m sorry.”

“yukhei, what happened?” you held the phone tighter, afraid of the answer.

“i messed up,” it sounded like he was wincing, “i really messed up.”

“yuk, where are you?”

“an alley near the florist, it’s too far...”

“no. i’ll be there in ten minutes. can you hold on that long?”

“i-i dont know if i can.” you could hear the sob in his throat.

“you have to,” you cried, slipping on your shoes and running toward the door, “you have to hold on. for me.”

“if i can’t,” he began, “i wanna tell you i love you.”

“don’t talk like that.” you got in your car, his weak voice pouring from the speakers surrounding you in more fear.

“no, please. l-let me talk.” his voice was strained. you knew it was bad.

“th-thank you. for everything. for loving me. i know you were afraid this would happen, and i’m sorry. i’m sorry all those nights i said it never would turned out to be a lie.” he was crying. yukhei almost never cried unless he was afraid. it was getting hard for you to see the road, your tears burning behind your eyes.

“you put up with my lifestyle just to be with me. i told you i’d get out of it, and look what happened. i’m sorry.” he sounded so defeated.

“i’d do anything to be with you yuk, you know that.” you gripped the wheel until your fingers were numb. you trembled with anger. they were taking him from you. in one night, in a matter of minutes, they made the decision to take your best friend, your world away.

“i was just coming back from getting you flowers. they're right here next to me. lilies, your favorite.” he sniffled, and you heard the crinkling of the wrapping paper. he was holding them.

“i’m looking up at the stars right now. they remind me of you.” he said softly.

“count them. don’t stop till i get there.”

there was a deafening silence on the other end.

“yukhei?”

“i’m here. just counting.” he mumbled.

“keep talking to me. don’t stop talking.”

“i didn't see them. they came out of nowhere. four of their guys. they held me down before i could even fight back. one of them had a knife.”

“why didn't you call taeyong? or mark? or the police? you could be on your way to the hospital right now and-”

“they've had a hit on me for three years. everyone was tired of watching over me every time i left. i didn't tell anyone i was leaving, it was just to get you flowers. i thought i’d be back before anyone noticed. i messed up.”

“you promised me you wouldn’t leave without anyone with you. you promised me. the night i had to patch you up. the night we held each other and cried. the night i almost lost you. you swore.”

“i know. i’m so sorry.”

“but if you call an ambulance-”

“you know i can’t call the police. they’d kill me over the things i’ve done anyway.” he sounded like he was trying to laugh, but you could tell it hurt.

“i’d rather have you alive and dealing with consequences than not have you at all!” you yelled, passing the florist’s and seeing yukhei’s motorcycle parked out front. his helmet was on the ground.

you hoped the dark was hiding your tears.

“i’m sorry.” he coughed and then hissed in pain, “are you close?”

“i’m looking into every alley here, baby. just hold on.”

“it’s really cold. i’m scared.” he barely said above a whisper.

“i know. i am too.” you could hardly answer.

your hatred for his own gang almost matched your hatred for their rival gang. they should've been there. they should've cared.

“y-you were the only thing on my mind. you’re all i could think about. it hurt so bad. i just closed my eyes and thought of you. when i woke up and realized i was still alive i couldn't think to do anything other than call you. i had to hear your voice.”

“yukhei,” you pushed out in an ugly sob, scared by the sound, “i'm almost there baby. please stay a little longer.”

“there’s a lot of stars up there,” he cleared his throat, “i never noticed how many there were.”

you pulled up next to a dimly lit alley and found yukhei laying on the ground, bouquet of lilies clutched to his chest.

he smiled weakly and sighed in relief when he saw you standing over him. he dropped his phone to his side and reached for your hand.

“i’m sorry i bled all over your flowers.” he held them out sadly, stark white petals splattered with red.

you kneeled and pulled out your first aid kit, ready to wipe at his wounds.

“baby,” he pouted, “you and i both know it’s too late for that.”

you felt the tears swallow you up. you didn't look down, but you could tell his white shirt was soaked in scarlet out of the corner of your eye. he was right. your little roll of gauze wasn't going to help.

you collected him into your arms, holding him against your chest as you cried into his neck. his fingers were curled around the fabric of your shirt, pulling you as close as he could. he pressed light kisses to any part of you he could reach.

“p-please don’t cry, my love.” he was shivering, his teeth chattering.

“you can’t leave me! you can’t go. please just let me take you to the hospital. we can make up a story about you getting robbed or something! anything yukhei, i’ll do anything to save your life.”

“i won't even make it there. i already don’t feel any of the pain.”

you cupped his cheek. his skin was pale and cold.

“you saved my life the day i met you. without you, this would've happened to me a long time ago. i was reckless before, but you gave me purpose.” his half-lidded eyes were cloudy with tears. they fell and rolled between your fingers.

“i’m just sorry i didn't get to marry you. or do all of the things we planned to.” he raised his other hand shakily to your face, smearing some red across your cheekbone in the process.

you rested your forehead on his, trying to relish in every detail of him. the sound of his voice, his scent --although mixed with iron-- was still comforting. his arms around you made you feel like you two were just in bed, safe and warm. but eventually you had to open your eyes and face the reality.

“i got to see you one last time. i’m alright. i’m not scared anymore,” you could feel his heartbeat getting softer, see his eyes dimming, his tired smile fading, “it’s okay to let me go.”

“i don’t wanna let you go! ever! it’s not fair.” your tears were falling on his cheeks and mixing with his as you cradled him tightly.

he coughed twice, dotting his chapped lips and chin with more red. you wiped his face with your sleeve, swearing you could hear the shatter of your heart breaking in your chest.

“i’ll always love you.” you whimpered before the sobs that crept up your throat stole your voice.

“mm, i love you,” he breathed out shakily, “say it again.”

“i love you, yukhei. i'll love you until every star in the sky burns out.” you repeated it until you were drowning in the wave of tears that crashed over you, and you knew you still hadn't said it enough.

you pressed a long kiss to his lips. it tasted of tears and faintly of blood and long nights spent worrying and quiet reassurances that this very thing would never happen. it was filled with thank yous and heartbreak and pleadings not to go. it felt cold and rushed and wrong, but it said what words couldn't.

soon, his hand fell away from your cheek. his lips parted and didn't reconnect with yours, and when you pulled back, yukhei’s eyes never opened.

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hannahindie · 7 years

Text

Ladies’ Night

Characters: Reader, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Sam Winchester (briefly), Dean Winchester (briefly) Word Count: 5,266 (I’d say I was sorry, but I’m not. Don’t live your life with regrets, ya’ll) Warnings: A lot of snark. I would wager this is probably the sassiest reader I’ve written, which is actually kind of impressive. Garth being ridiculous, Dean being whiny, mention of Sam pouts, a good bit of violence, the gross misuse of a fire extinguisher, the wearing of high heels when it’s absolutely unnecessary, and waffles. A/N: I wrote this fic for my dear, sweet water bear’s 500 follower challenge. Congratulations, @trexrambling, you majestic sea turtle. You deserve every one of those followers and more! The situation I was given was that I would be hunting a vetala with Garth, using a fire extinguisher. I hope that I did that combination justice. As usual, my beautiful panda that I like be so much, @pinknerdpanda, was kind enough to beta this for me, so thanks to her. If you see any mistakes, it’s totally me. My old eyes ain’t what they used to be. As usual, the tags are at the bottom! If you find yourself missing or would like to be added, please shoot me an ask or a message. Feedback is always welcome!

If you like what you see here and would like to take a gander at more, my Master List is here!

I stood over the partially frozen remains of the vetala I had just stabbed, breathing heavily and with hair that had escaped my ponytail in my face. I looked slowly from the vetala to Garth, who was standing on the other side of it, still holding the fire extinguisher and grinning at me sheepishly. “Seriously, dude? Seriously?”

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “I thought it was worth a shot. And hey look, it worked!”

I rolled my eyes, “Yea, perfect. Thanks for that.” I looked back down at the vetala, cold fog still rolling off her body, and sighed. Sam and Dean owed me. Big time.

Earlier that day...

“Sergeant Angel speaking, what can I help ya with? Mmhmm, yes, I did send my guys there. Murray and Akroyd? Yep…No, no relation to the actors to my knowledge. Yep, give ‘em everything you've got. Great, thanks. You too, bye.” I hung up the phone and went back to making my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. With Bobby gone, it had fallen to me and a couple of others to man the phones and help out when we could, and today it was my turn to lie my ass off. On occasion I wondered how many federal laws I was breaking on the almost daily, but then decided it was best to just forget about it.

I had spent most of my morning fielding calls from local police, coroners, you name it, they called me. I sat down in the living room with my sandwich and flipped on the television just in time for my favorite show. “Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!” Nothing like a little bit of trash television to help forget about the actual trash in my life. Just as I took a giant bite out of my sandwich, my cell rang. This meant that someone that actually knew me was calling, and that usually wasn’t a good sign either. I could probably count on one hand how many times people called me to just shoot the shit. I sighed and reluctantly swiped right to answer it, “This had better be good, I’m in the middle of Jerry Springer and a damn delicious sandwich.”

“Y/N! Hey, it’s Dean.” I groaned inwardly. Definitely not good. If the Winchesters were calling, it was sure to be a pain in my ass.

“Winchester, the answer is no.” I could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t even ask you anything yet!”

I took another bite of sandwich, “You didn’t have to. If you or Sam are calling, it only means a bad time,” I mumbled around the delicious peanut butter and organic jelly concoction currently assaulting my taste buds in the best way. Sam was smart, but the best thing he ever told me to try was organic jelly. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.

“Why do you have to be such an ass all the time-” I heard a rustling then another voice came on the line.

“Y/N, it’s Sam.” I smiled. Truthfully, I kind of adored both of the Winchesters, but Sam...Sammy was my favorite. Although I have to admit, angry bantering with Dean got the blood flowing, that’s for sure.

“Hey, if it isn’t my favorite Winchester. What’s up, Sam?” I heard Dean grumbling in the background and I chuckled to myself, “Tell Dean jealousy doesn’t look good on him.” I heard more grumbling then the sound of the Impala door slamming shut.

Sam laughed, “I think he heard you. Anyway, it’s not us you’d actually be helping this time. Garth is kind of stuck and Dean and I are already on a case. Do you mind giving him a hand? He’s not too far from you.”

I took another bite of sandwich, “Why does Garth need my help? Doesn’t he have like a trunk full of sock puppets he can use to awkward the thing to death?” Garth was a good hunter, I’ll give him that, but the guy was kind of a loon.

Sam laughed again, “Nah, not this time. He’s pretty much got it solved but he can’t draw it out. He needs a female’s touch, apparently.”

“Color me intrigued. What’s he hunting?” I heard some tapping and I could picture Sam typing away at his laptop. There’s nothing more adorable than Sam Winchester in research mode.

“Vetala. Looks like she’s operating out of a bar about...twenty, thirty minutes from you? Not sure why he can’t get her, but he’s striking out hard.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “He can’t draw her out because that’s a gay bar, Sam. Garth is trying to put the moves on a lesbian vetala.” I paused to take a sip of my beer, “Put that on the list of things I never thought I’d say.” I finished my sandwich, then took my plate and tossed it in the sink. I leaned against the kitchen counter, “I can help him out. Tell him to give me a couple of hours so I can get the line taken care of and I’ll head that direction.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Let us know if you need anything.”

I grinned, “Aw, Sammy, it gets me all warm and tingly when you worry about me. We’ll be fine, it’s just a couple of vetala. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I guess you’re right. Talk to you later.” He hung up and I dialed the next person on the list for the line to get it covered in my absence. After promising it wouldn’t take too long, I grabbed my go-bag from the closet and headed for my pickup.

In case you were wondering what the answer to my rhetorical question was...everything. Everything ever could possibly go wrong.

“Y/N! You’re here! Sam said you were on the way, thanks for taking the time to come!” Garth threw his arms around me and I stood there stiffly as I awkwardly patted him on the back.

“Hey, Garth. How’s...how’s it going?”

He pulled back and put his hands on his hips, “Well, I’ll tell ya, it’s been better. I’ve dealt with vetala, but these two are just...they’re being a handful, and not very cooperative. Did Sam tell you I was having trouble getting them to come out?”

I snorted, then covered it up with a cough, “Yea, Garth, he sure did. I think I might have an idea. You’re gonna need to sit down, though.”

Garth flopped down into the cheap desk chair and looked at me expectantly, “So what’s the dealio?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the guy. To be honest, he was probably the only hunter I knew that could see what he had seen and still be as happy go lucky as he was. Although it could be annoying on occasion, it was a bright spot in the shit storm I usually had to deal with. Which meant that in this particular instance, I needed to dial back the sass a little bit. “Well, Garth, Sam told me you were trying to get these vetala at a nearby bar, right? Is it called the Pussycat Club?” He nodded enthusiastically, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing, “Did you...umm...did you happen to notice anything while you were in there?”

He shrugged, “A lot of beautiful women, but that’s about it. Why?”

I leaned against the table and crossed my arms, “It’s a gay bar, Garth. That’s why the vetalas aren’t going after you. Apparently they are playing for the other team….although I suppose it could be both teams and they just aren’t interested in you…” The look he gave me was a cross between surprise and hurt, and I sighed. So much for dialing back the sass. “I’m sure that’s not it though! I’ve never given lesbian vetalas much thought, but I mean why not? The supernatural can do what it wants too. Except kill people...because that part isn’t cool.” I was rambling and clearly backpedaling, but Garth smiled at me anyway.

“Lesbian vetalas. Huh. I would have never guessed that. How are we going to do this, Y/N?”

I motioned towards my bag, “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a woman. And as a woman, I have brought the necessary accessories to have a night out at this Pussycat Club. I just need you to be my backup, okay? I don’t know how long this is going to take, but hopefully we can wrap it up pretty quickly. I have to get back home in a reasonable amount of time. Sound good?”

Garth nodded, “Yep, sounds good to me. I assume, because of where we’re going, I can’t pretend to be your date?”

I rolled my eyes, “Kind of defeats the purpose, buddy. Now, I’m going to get ready. Take inventory, make sure our weapons are accounted for, and then we’ll head out.” I grabbed my bag and headed towards the bathroom. If I was going to get their attention, I was going to have to go all out. It was time to bust out the big guns.

“Garth, stop it,” I hissed. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know that Garth was staring at my ass.

“I wasn’t doing anything! I just...how do you have that silver knife hidden that well? You really can’t see the outline at all-”

I whipped around and glared at him, “Your head would explode if I told you how I did it. Just know that it’s there, and that despite the fact I was planning on using it on a vetala, I will not hesitate to use it on you. Quit. Staring.” Garth took a step back and not so subtly crossed his hands in front of his crotch as if he were nervous. I smirked, proud at my ability to invoke fear with just my words, and checked my makeup in the sideview mirror of my truck one last time. I didn’t often dress up, but I had to admit I cleaned up pretty well. I adjusted the deep neckline of my dress and shook the girls, a little trick my grandmother taught me, and smiled at how great they looked. My grandma knew her shit, the saucy minx. “I’m ready. Now, I have to ask...how awkward did you make it in there? Can you go back inside or is it going to be weird?” Garth scrunched his nose and shrugged, which was enough of an answer. “.....Are you even allowed back in there?”

“It might have been mentioned that I...umm...was no longer welcome in their establishment.”

“Dammit, Garth! How are you supposed to be my backup if you aren’t even allowed to go inside-” My phone ringing interrupted me and I answered it angrily, “What do you want?”

Garth looked at me with wide eyes, “Where did you even have that phone?” he mouthed at me, and I promptly gave him the finger.

“Y/N, it’s Sam. How’s it going?”

“It would be going better if Garth knew how to act around women, gay, straight, or otherwise. Why?”

There was a beat of shocked silence before Sam answered, “Well, we hadn’t heard anything and I was just wondering-”

My patience with every male hunter I knew had come to an end, even precious Sammy. I took a deep breath, “Sam, it hasn’t even been five hours since you called me. I didn’t realize I needed to keep you up to date on my current location, but I have arrived safe and sound. I even found Garth, all on my own! And now, I’m wearing a dress that is incredibly inappropriate to wear in public, and have somehow managed to conceal at least three silver blades on my person so that I can go in there and finish a job that a man couldn’t do. Do you have anything else you need to ask me, or can I go in there and do my job?”

Garth looked at me with wide eyes and Sam was silent. I almost felt bad for yelling at Sam, but I was already done for the evening, and my night hadn’t even started yet. “Nope, I think...I think we’re good. I guess you can...well, just let me...I’ll just talk to you later. Whenever you feel like it. Bye, Y/N.” Sam hung up and I slipped the phone back where I had hid it earlier, then looked back at Garth.

“Three blades?”

I rolled my eyes, “Shut up, Garth.” I smoothed out my dress and faced the building, “Okay, I’m going in. Keep an eye on your phone, hopefully we can get this taken care of tonight. Do you have any idea at all of who it might be?” Garth shook his head but remained silent, which was probably the smartest thing he could have done. “Great. Well, I’m pretty good at winging it. Just...turn the sound on your phone. I swear to God if I call you and you don’t answer…”

“I got it! Ringer, on!” He held the phone up with a smile. If we made it through this hunt without me murdering him, it would be a miracle.

I turned and briskly walked to the entrance without saying anything else to Garth, smiled at the doorman who was so distracted by my cleavage that he didn’t bother to ask for an ID, and headed straight to the bar. If I was going to do this, I was going to need all the alcohol. I waved down the bartender and asked for the best bourbon they had, then settled onto my stool and turned to watch the floor. Finding a vetala was not easy, even when you know what you’re looking for. It’s not like looking for a wraith where you can see their true self in a mirror, or a shifter where you can see their eyes flash on camera. You have to draw them out, get them to lose their cool for long enough to catch them off guard. If there was anything that Bobby Singer taught me about this life, it was to make damn sure of what you were killing before you killed it.

“What are you having?” I glanced to my right and saw a woman leaning against the bar. She was tall, with long black hair and eyes that were so dark they almost matched her hair. Her plain black tank top and dark leather pants were in stark contrast to her pale skin, and when she smiled, something seemed...off. I tilted my head as I gazed her. She was beautiful, and if I had a hunter’s sense that amounted to anything, she was also dangerous.

I smiled, “Bourbon.” She waved down the bartender, whispered something casually in her ear, then waved her away. When she came back, the bartender sat down an entire bottle of Pappy Van Winkle’s, sat two glasses on the bar, and walked away. I looked at the bottle wide eyed, and reached out to pick it up but then put my hand down. “Is that seriously...is that a bottle of 20 year Pappy Van Winkle?” I grimaced at how awkward I sounded, but they’d just sat down a $170 bottle of bourbon, and my brain couldn’t deal with it.

“It is.” She reached out and grabbed the bottle, twisted the cap, then poured a shot each and pushed one of the glasses towards me. “You know your bourbon.”

I carefully picked up the glass and swirled the contents gently, “I know some.” I took a sip and closed my eyes as it burned all the way down. Bobby would haunt me for the rest of my days if I didn’t savor this moment. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to see the woman staring at me. “This bottle was definitely not on the shelf when I ordered earlier. How did you do that?”

The woman smiled, “I own the place. We don’t have a legit VIP section, but I like to treat the customers that intrigue me.”

I laughed, “Intrigues you, huh? You haven’t even really talked to me yet, I could be the most unremarkable person you meet today.”

Her eyes shifted slowly from my face down to where my legs were crossed, then back up, “I highly doubt that.” I was right; vetala or not, this woman was dangerous.

I took another sip of bourbon, “Hmm. So you own this place, huh? Funny, I don’t remember seeing you in here before.”

“I just recently acquired it. The previous owner...well, they decided it would be best to sell the business. So,” she spread her hands out, “here we are. Speaking of not being seen before...I don’t recall seeing you either. I think I would remember you.”

I smiled my most charming smile, “I can blend in when I want. I don’t always want to be seen.” She moved closer to me and I realized that if I was ever going to find out if this was the vetala, I would have to make my move and quickly. I put my hand on her arm, “Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more private? I’d like to get to know you better…” I raised an eyebrow and drew my bottom lip between my teeth. It had the desired effect; as soon as I did it, the woman’s eyes flashed blue. If I hadn’t been looking for it, I would have missed it. Bingo.

“Moira. My name is Moira.” She glanced at her watch, “I have a private office in the back, and the bar closes in about fifteen minutes. Why don’t we head back there, and then I’ll give you a ...private tour?”

I nodded, “That would be perfect.” We stood and began our walk to the back of the building. I jumped when I felt her hand slip from my lower back to my ass. She looked at me from the corner of her eye and smirked. She was good, and if I had been anyone else, I probably would have fallen for it. We came to a locked door and she opened it, motioning for me to go in first. I sat on the edge of the desk and leaned backwards as I looked around the room, “Seems like this is a pretty good gig. Pappy Van Winkle, nice office, maybe I should go into the bar business.”

Moira laughed, “Yea, well, not everyone is as successful at it. It’s hard work and I’m good at what I do.” She walked up to the desk and shoved herself between my knees.

I raised an eyebrow, “You could at least take a girl out to dinner first.”

Moira ran a thumb across my cheekbone and smiled, “I don’t have to take a girl out to dinner to get what I want. Like I said, I’m good at what I do.”

I leaned in closer and brushed my lips over the shell of her ear, “Unfortunately for you, so am I,” I whispered.

She looked at me sharply and then gasped as the cold silver of my dagger penetrated her heart. Her irises went back to blue before her eyelids slipped shut and I shoved her backwards. She hit the floor with a dull thud, and I retrieved my phone from its hiding place.

“Heyo, Y/N! What’s crackin’?”

“Your skull if you don’t cut it out, you weirdo. I got one of them, but I have no idea who the second one is. There’s always a second one. The bar closes in about ten minutes, so keep an eye out for anyone that looks sketchy when they leave. Once the bar looks empty, sneak inside. I might need you.”

“Okey dokey, artichokey! See you in a few!” I rolled my eyes and hung up. I walked over to the door and opened it slowly. The hallway was too long for me to get a good look at what the club’s floor looked like, so I shut the door and stood over Moira’s body. I needed to hide her until we could take care of the second vetala. I dragged her behind the desk and wiped my hands on my dress. There was a reason I wore a black dress tonight.

The sound of my phone ringing interrupted my thoughts, “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Dean.”

I sighed, “I am in the middle of taking care of this. What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing, just wanted to check in. Sam’s been pouting since you yelled at him, wanted to make sure you weren’t too stressed. You don’t usually yell at Sammy. Me, all the time. Sammy, not so much.”

“Yea, and I’m about to yell at you some more. Listen, I’ve already got one vetala, but I still have to find the other one and it’s going to be a miracle if I take care of it without flashing everything God gave me. I am tired, and annoyed, and you literally have the worst timing. I will call you when I’m finished, okay? Great.” I heard him start to protest, but I hung up before I had to listen to it. I looked at the clock; the club was closed and should have started to empty. I slipped out of the office and down the hallway back into the main room. Although the lights were still off, most of the room was empty except for the bartender who looked up at the sound of my footsteps.

“What are you still doing in here?”

I walked up to the bar and sat down, “Moira was going to show me around the place but she disappeared. You haven’t seen her, have you?”

The girl shook her head, “Nah, not since she took you to the back. I’m surprised she left you though, not really her style. She likes to show her favorite guests a good time.”

I shrugged, “Hmm...maybe she changed her mind about me. Maybe I really am unremarkable.” I pouted and looked up at the bartender through my eyelashes. She was staring at me and I tilted my head. “What do you think? Do you think I’m unremarkable?”

She walked around the end of the bar and leaned against the worn wood, “Well, I don’t know you very well, but judging by what you’re wearing...you’re too ballsy to be too unremarkable.”

I laughed, “Hmm...maybe you’re right. What’s your name?”

“Lacey, what’s yours?”

“Y/N.” I leaned forward and watched her eyes move from my face down to my chest.

“Yea...definitely not unremarkable.” She looked back up and smiled, “Do you want to get out of here? Moira will probably kill me, but finders keepers, am I right?”

I bit my lip, “You certainly have a way with words, Lacey.” I moved closer and pressed myself against her, “A confident woman gets me all kinds of riled up, and here you are just taking what you want, your boss be damned. It’s...it’s pretty hot.” I started to reach for her, but she pulled back suddenly and I nearly fell off my stool. “What’s wrong?”

“Is that...is that blood on your arm?”

I looked at her with wide eyes, “What do you mean, blood? Why would I have blood on my arm?” I glanced down to where her eyes rested and lo and behold...blood. I must have gotten it when I dragged Moira behind the desk. I sighed, “Dammit.”

“Moira didn’t leave, did she?” I looked up to see Lacey’s eyes were an ice blue and that she’d magically grown a new set of teeth.

“No, Lacey, she didn’t. I mean, not physically. Spiritually though, she’s in the great in between, Purgatory, the place where monsters go when they die.” I hopped down from the stool and slipped out one of the silver blades.

Lacey looked at me in surprise, “Where the hell did that come from?”

I grinned, “Your head would explode if I told you. Now, are you going to make this easy for me, or are you gonna-” Lacey lashed out before I could finish and knocked the blade from my hand as she pushed me backwards. Nobody really tells you the cons of wearing heels to a hunt. I guess it’s because they assume a hunter wouldn’t be dumb enough to do that, and normally I would agree with that sentiment. It just hadn't really occurred to me until my ass hit the ground, hard.

“-make this difficult.” I managed to groan out. Lacey came at me, and I pulled out another blade.

“Seriously, where the hell are you keeping those?”

I kicked my heels off and jumped up, “A girl doesn’t reveal her secrets.” We circled each other and I vaguely wondered where Garth was. I had to admit, I’d been lucky with Moira. I should have known the second one wouldn’t be as easy. And here I thought Moira was the one I should be worried about. I charged at Lacey, hoping to knock her off balance, but she was faster and managed to grab me and throw me into the bar. I hit the wood hard and slid down into the floor again. “Jesus, you aren’t fooling around, are you? You mad that I killed your girlfriend? Or are you mad because she liked me better than you? I feel like there’s a lot of pent up aggression here, Lacey. Maybe you just need to talk about it.” She dove at me and I managed to roll out of the way, slicing her across the arm with my knife.

She shrieked as she clutched at her burning flesh, “She didn’t like any of those girls more than me! It was how we fed, nothing more.”

I laughed, “Sure, sweetie, keep telling yourself that. Because I’m here to tell you, I think she wanted a piece of ass as much as she wanted a free meal.” I winked at her and she screamed as she charged me again. I moved, but not quite fast enough, and she managed to hip check me into a table. The blade I was holding flew out of my hand as the table flipped over and I went over the side of it. “Son of a bitch!” I rolled across the floor and onto my feet, my chest heaving, and glared at Lacey, “Listen, I wasn’t even supposed to be here. This was supposed to be easy, and you’re starting to piss me off. Just let it happen, dude. You know how this is going to end. I killed your partner, I’m gonna kill you. I’m getting too old for this shit, just stand still!”

Lacey rolled her eyes, “Yea, like I’m just going to let you kill me. I’m not suicidal, and news flash! Vetalas might hunt in pairs, but it’s not like we mate for life. I’ll just find someone else. I was getting bored with Moira anyway.” She grinned, “You don’t even have any more knives. There is no way you’ve got anymore hidden under that poor excuse of a dress.” She walked towards me slowly and I looked around for something to at least beat her with. I was in the mood for some ass kicking, and Garth leaving me hanging was not helping.

“You’d be surprised what I could hide in this dress. Too bad you’ll be too dead for me to teach you.” She ran at me again and I grabbed her by the hair. “Seriously? Not gonna let up are you?” She punched me in the ribs and I managed to land one across her cheekbone as I yanked her head back by the hair. As we grappled, I noticed movement behind Lacey. She realized I was distracted and kneed me in the stomach. I fell to the floor, the air knocked out of me, and she stood over me as if to gloat.

“I’m not gonna let up. I’m gonna be the one that walks out of here. Sorry, but it’s every woman for herself.” She grabbed me by my ponytail and hauled me up and out of the floor, “I’ll make it quick, alright? I like your tenacity. I’ll just snap your neck and it’ll be lights out, sound good?”

“Sure. Sounds like a plan...except I think maybe you took too long monologuing. You should probably make sure of your surroundings before you go off on a rambling tangent.”

“What?” I nodded over her shoulder and she turned to look. Just as she did, Garth pulled the trigger on the fire extinguisher he’d found and nailed her in the face with it. It gave me just enough time to pull out my last blade, plunge it into her heart, and twist. I let go of her and she dropped to the floor. I stood over the partially frozen remains of the vetala I had just stabbed, breathing heavily and with hair that had escaped my ponytail in my face.

I looked slowly from Lacey to Garth, who was standing on the other side of her, still holding the fire extinguisher and grinning at me sheepishly. “Seriously, dude? Seriously?”

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “I thought it was worth a shot. And hey look, it worked!”

I rolled my eyes, “Yea, perfect. Thanks for that.” I looked back down at Lacey, cold fog still rolling off her body, and sighed. Sam and Dean owed me. Big time.

I pulled out my phone, this time allowing Garth to see where I’d stashed it and hid a grin as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. I scrolled through my contacts, found the one I wanted, and hit dial.

“Hello?”

“Dean, it’s done. Both vetalas are dead and accounted for, no thanks to Garth.”

“Hey, I used the fire extinguisher-”

“Shut up, Garth. Anyway, it’s done. You guys owe me big time.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Any time I have to leave my house and deal with a handsy vetala, it’s not great, okay? Not my ideal date. Speaking of which, you owe me.”

I could practically hear Dean grinning over the phone, “A date, huh? I could arrange that-”

“Not with you, jerk.”

“Aww man, with Sam?” He whined, “He’s not really your favorite, is he? Come on!”

“You can tell Sam he’s on the list, but at this particular moment, no. Get me a date with the red headed friend of yours, and we’re square.”

There was a beat of silence as if Dean was carefully weighing his next words, “Charlie? You want a date...with Charlie?”

“Yep. And tell Sam the next time I’m feeling frisky, he can come pick me up. We’ll….I don’t know, do research, jog, whatever it is that gets his motor running. But for now, the primary objective is that cute little LARPer. Get on that, and like I said...we’re square.”

“But what about-”

“Bye, Dean.” I hung up on him and looked at Garth, who was still looking at me like I’d grown a second head. “Despite your lack of assistance, and a pitiful excuse of helpfulness at that, I find that I wouldn’t mind having some late night waffles with ya, Garth. Fighting makes me hungry, you game?” He nodded slowly. “Good, now come on. You’re driving.” I picked up my shoes and walked out of the building.

Someone else could clean up the mess. There were waffles to be eaten.

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud

#huntercelebration #supernatural fanfiction #humor #garth fitzgerald iv #reader insert #yay water bear #so many follwers #you deserve all of them

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minervacasterly · 8 years

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Fact vs Fiction: Queen Victoria's view on pregnancy. her relationship with Prince Albert and the general Victorian view on motherhood and childbirth, and medicine:

Tonight was the season one finale of ITV/ PBS’ Victoria in the United States. Well done, and sorely missed. I can’t wait for season 2! Victoria’s attitude towards pregnancy has often been criticized and thought of as un-motherly, not to mention how she described her first children, especially her firstborn, Princess Victoria (future German Empress). Some have attributed it to Post-Partum Depression while others see it as normal, and something that women can relate to.

I have never been pregnant but most of my friends have, including my cousins and I have seen how they’ve reacted. And I have to say, reactions vary. It has to do with biology and the person’s environment. The series showed a young Victoria who didn’t like being confined to the royal palace because she wanted to be free, and didn’t want to be seen as a brood mare. However, as the first English Queen Regnant, people were right to be worried. Childbirth was more dangerous back then and the Queen’s body, as much as Victoria wished to think of it as her own, was seen as something sacred, that should be protected no matter what.

There was the whole scandal regarding her uncle, Ernest Augustus, King of Hanover and Duke of Cumberland, having a hand in the assassination attempt against Victoria. Nothing was ever proven and the official story is that this was nothing more than malicious rumors spread by his enemies. Prince Albert doesn’t believe this and neither does Queen Victoria but she has no choice but to abide by what a jury of her would-be-assassin’s peers have determined, and the lack of evidence against uncle.

Coming back to Victoria’s pregnancies, here’s a good summary of how Victoria viewed pregnancy by historian, Amy Licence, also exploring the Queen’s relationship with her husband, Prince Albert and the birth control methods that were used -or frowned upon- at the time of her union with her cousin: “Despite her reputation for demure staidness and her famous refusal to be amused, Queen Victoria was a passionate woman. Her name has become something of a byword for sexual repression but her love life with adored husband, Albert, was far from the prudery that her era has been assumed to typify. The day after her wedding, the twenty-year-old queen wrote to her confidant and Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, that ‘it was a gratifying and bewildering experience … his excessive love and affection gave me feelings of heavenly love and happiness. He clasped me in his arms and we kissed each other again and again.’ Her three-day honeymoon at Windsor Castle left her the ‘happiest being that ever existed’ and she had Albert design and install a bedside switch to activate mechanical locks on the bedroom door, so that their impromptu love-making sessions would not be interrupted. However, when it came to the consequences, or what she called the ‘shadow side’ of love, pregnancy and birth, Victoria was less enthusiastic … Victoria conceived within days of her wedding. It seems likely that neither she nor Albert had any idea about how this could have been prevented. There was a certain amount of material published on birth control by the time of their marriage, such as Richard Carlile’s 1828 Every Woman’s Book, which recommended coitus interruptus as well as the sponges that French and Italian women were reputed to wear on their wrists, so as to literally have them to hand. It was possible to purchase sponges and ‘gentleman’s nightcaps’ (condoms), cervical caps and an early American form of the femidom, or female condom, made from eel skin. Some upper-class women also practiced ‘irrigation’, which involved the rinsing out of the vagina using a syringe, although the instructions, given in Every Woman’s Book, made the process seem arduous and cumbersome. Social activist Annie Besant worked to raise public knowledge about the various options available to married couples, publishing the instructive The Fruits of Philosophy. This led to Besant’s arrest and trial for obscenity. Initially convicted, the verdict was overturned on appeal and huge numbers of the book were sold. Victoria would not have begun to suspect her pregnancy until certain physical signs began to appear and, even then, she would have been cautious about diagnosis … The late summer and autumn of 1840, spent waiting in seclusion, proved frustrating for Victoria. As she later wrote to her daughter, it had all happened too quickly and denied her the opportunity to enjoy being married: ‘What made me so miserable was … to have the first two years of my married life utterly spoiled by this occupation.’ She felt as if motherhood had ‘tried [her] sorely; one feels so pinned down, one’s wings clipped, only half oneself. In September, when she was seven months pregnant, she made Albert a member of the Privy Council and issued him with a set of duplicate keys to her official boxes, so he could take over when she was incapacitated. It was a symbolic act, recognizing her inability to act as queen during her numerous pregnancies and the tension of power this created between husband and wife. Victoria would have sought advice from her doctors as soon as she suspected her condition but physical examinations of any sort were shunned. Even the placing of a stethoscope on a woman’s belly to monitor the fetal heartbeat was considered indecent. As a result, many nineteenth-century women suffered ‘the extremity of danger and pain rather than waive those scruples of delicacy which prevent their maladies from being fully exposed’. It has been estimated that in the 1870s, married women spent an average of twelve years pregnant and breastfeeding, having borne around five live children, although many had suffered miscarriages and stillbirths. Like Victoria, 80 percent delivered within twelve months of the wedding ceremony, while only 12 in 1,000 gave birth in less than seven months, having been pregnant at the altar. Many endured multiple pregnancies, equaling the queen in having nine children under the age of fifteen, which made her feel ‘more like a rabbit or a guinea pig than anything else’. Labour conditions improved for Victoria for the delivery of her son Leopold in 1853, when she was administered with chloroform for the first time, inhaling every ten minutes from a cloth soaked in the liquid. After her experience, this form of pain relief became widely used among her subjects. Still, Victoria disliked the process of bearing children, writing retrospectively about the ‘humiliation to the delicate feelings of a poor woman, above all a young one … especially with those nasty doctors’. She also found the condition ‘quite disgusting’ in others, particularly ‘those ladies who are always enceinte’ and responded to the impending birth of her grandchild by claiming ‘the horrid news has upset us dreadfully’. It may also have been the case, with her aunt Charlotte in mind, that Victoria feared her coming ordeal; Mrs Panton certainly believed that ‘these times are looked forward to with dread by all young wife’. This attitude, coupled with her dislike of breastfeeding and small children, has led some historians to conclude that she suffered from prenatal and postnatal depression although this is underpinned by the assumption that all women must enjoy motherhood and any deviation from this model requires a medical explanation. Perhaps readers should take Victoria at her word, as her view remained unchanging, that the ‘shadow side’ of love had got in the way of her marriage.

Victoria was not alone. The fear of birth was common to many women of the time, victims of a social prudery that denied them the opportunity for proper examination, control over and knowledge about their condition. This led to an understandable dislike of pregnancy, even a sense of morbidity, and a rejection of the act which could result in conception.” *

You also have to take into account that Victoria's views on how to prevent pregnancy, coming from the Baroness, date all the way back to ancient history. Thanks to efforts by the scientific community to map the entire human genome, we know more about human anatomy, especially female anatomy than our ancestors ever did. As a result, access to things such as birth control, and preventive care are easier, especially in developed countries. But every body is different and complications could still occur.

Victoria's mission, besides making the monarchy more popular, and thus ensuring the continuation of such institution, was to provide it with heirs. One child wasn't enough and despite England already having been ruled successfully by female monarchs like Elizabeth I and Anne I; people -including Victoria- would have preferred a male heir. And Victoria knew that she needed to have more than one son, in order to secure the throne for her dynasty. There had been so many Princes of Wales who never became Kings of England because they died, and thus their younger siblings took their place. Victoria became Queen thanks to many of her grandfather -George III of England- eldest sons not having male heirs, or (in the case of her predecessor, her uncle William IV) having a daughter who died in childbirth.

It was appropriate that the last episode had one of the grooms quote Shakespeare from his play 'Richard II', "uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Indeed, uneasy lay the head that wore a crown, especially for Queen Regnants.

*Source: Royal Babies: 1066-2013 by Amy Licence. She also wrote a good book on the Tudors, that explores women's experiences in that era, it is titled "In Bed with the Tudors".

#Victoria

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irarelypostanything · 8 years

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The Harvard Homewrecker (Full Text)

Sometimes, two people stay together simply because they don’t remember what it feels like to be alone.

Sometimes, two people stay together for a more meaningful reason.

Other times, one of them meets Tony.

Part I

The day he attended his first meeting, Tedmund decided to run for office. I can’t remember what club this was, so I’m just going to say it was Key Club.

He was already a second year in high school. He worried that his youth was slipping away, and it was time he involved himself in school activities. The president greeted him at the door and said they were electing new officers.

“The president is probably going to be me again,” said the president, and he wasn’t lying. He was a pretty competent president. “The other positions are pretty competitive, but no one is running for secretary.”

“Oh,” said Tedmund. All of the names in this story are from a random generator, in case anyone was wondering.

“You should run.”

“This...this is literally my first day.”

“Okay.” The president shrugged. “I mean, if you don’t have the balls for it...”

10 minutes later

“My name is Tedmund,” he announced from the podium, “and I am proud to be running for secretary.” Only a few people recognized him from class, but everyone applauded on account of his carefree speaking.

“I have been observing this club,” he said, pausing to look at the president’s logo, “which is Key Club, and it can definitely be improved.” He saw a few people frown, but now everyone was listening intently. “I will bring,” he glanced at the president, who mouthed the words community service, “I will bring more community service projects. And I’m going to take notes really well. And it’s going to be great.” Everyone cheered.

He won, of course. No one was running against him.

The VP was named Candy, and the two really hit it off. They didn’t mind staying late after school to make posters together, or to email coordinators together. For Tedmund, Candy was a great friend with whom he could get through the tedium of officer duties. For Candy, Tedmund was something more.

Their AP Psych teacher noticed the chemistry and paired them up during the Relationships unit, as well as the Human Development unit. Their chemistry teacher noticed it as well, but didn’t give AF.

Several months went by like this, but this was Tedmund. He knew so many girls who were in love with him that he dismissed flirting as normal behavior.

She called him eventually, late in the night, when the only light came from his TV screen and the only sounds were the gunshots from Halo.

“Tedmund,” she said, “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?” He couldn’t hit pause; it was multiplayer.

“Yes, I...I forgot.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t say much to him again for an agonizing month, when she could no longer resist the urge to call him again.

“Hi Tedmund,” she said, “how are you?”

“Good,” he said. “I just had dinner.”

“How was it?”

He spent the next ten minutes describing to her, in detail, what he had eaten and how delicious it was.

“Tedmund,” she said, “I love you.”

“So do I,” said Tedmund. The news was even better than his dinner.

They became a couple. They spent as much time as they could together. Everyone who knew them thought of them together, and the blissful weeks passed effortlessly as they filled their time in love and with the ridiculous number of AP classes Washington High people took.

And then, out of nowhere, she saw Tony at a track meet. He didn’t notice her, but she noticed him. He finished first, and she noticed that he didn’t sweat. He glistened.

He wasn’t just hot. He seemed to radiate hotness.

******

Part II

One of the events in this story never actually happened, but I’m not going to say which.

There were many dorms at UC Davis, but it was universally known that Miller was the best. This is undisputed. Miller had the fastest wi-fi connection, a kitchen on every floor, and a $10,000 grand piano that made the one at Thompson look like a garage sale giveaway. ATM was the best part of Segundo, but Segundo was known for having Miller. Tercero couldn’t compete, even with upgrades, and Cuarto looked like a glorified three-and-a-half star motel next to Miller.

Of course, these two were at Miller after 2012, so I don’t know much about the other people who were there.

His name was Rick, your typical run-of-the-mill attractive intelligent charismatic Regents Scholar video game champion in his first year of college. Jessica was all of these things, minus the video games.

Like most of the people in Miller, Rick and Jessica lived together and took a class together. The class had 23 people, and only one guy. Guess who the guy was?

If you don’t know how UHP worked, here’s a 25-second tutorial: Everyone signed up for small classes; some were easy, and some were not-so-easy. The ones who took the easy classes were happy (I guess), and the ones who took the not-so-easy classes complained about it on the ISHP Facebook page. By the laws of karma, the people who took the easy ones their first quarter just so happened to choose the not-so-easy ones in their second quarter.

The two clicked really well, especially since both of them joined a college club together. I’m just going to call it CKI because I’ve dropped so many meaningless abbreviations that I kind of stopped caring.

Is there really any more to it than that? If there is, I don’t know the details. They were up until sunrise together, just the two of them...talking. One night, she asked if they could play Hot Seat.

He calmly said yes, but fireworks were going off in his head.

She was up first. “If we knew each other a year ago,” he said, trying to be as subtle and indirect as possible, “do you think we would have dated?”

She nodded.

Shortly after, they started dating.

And that wraps it up. They were a perfect couple.

That’s it. End of story.

Oh wait…

Jessica found herself alone in San Francisco one weekend, because that’s what people in Davis do when they’re bored. They spend an hour driving to a city that everyone hates driving in. But her car was still in the shop this time, and Jessica took the shuttle.

Jessica sprinted for the bus, and the driver saw her, but it was Muni. Obviously, he didn’t stop.

“No...” she said. It was Muni, so the next bus wasn’t going to come for an hour. By the time she made it to Berkeley her shuttle would be gone, and she’d have to spend the night there.

“What’s wrong?” asked Tony. He had just flown in from the East Coast, and he had just finished visiting his peasant friends from high school. How he became rich is explained in parts III and IV.

“I missed my bus,” she said.

“Would you like a ride?” he asked. She looked at him closely. He was in a designer jacket, wore designer pants, and next to him was a red 488 GTB Ferrari.

“In that?” she asked, making eye contact with his beautiful car.

“No, I was just taking that to my lift.” He pointed to a building nearby, a gorgeous piece of massive glass with a helicopter to top it off.

“Do you own that helicopter?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, and smiled. “Why else would I have paid to put a helipad on my building?”

*****

In a relationship, whoever is more in love will always be at a disadvantage.

Unless you’re not competing, or you don’t try to measure it, or...I don’t know...you’re in a relationship with pizza.

I just wrote that first sentence to get your attention.

Part III

This story begins with a guy making someone a sandwich.

Jake was an athletic, heavily involved high school student whom everyone was cool with, except Mr. B. He also put a lot of effort into his sandwiches. This sandwich was an hour-long project: The bread was lightly toasted, there was just the right amount of peanut butter and jelly, and the way he presented it was like something you would see on the Food Network.

I had to learn piano to get a high school girlfriend. Stanley had to master multivariable Calculus. David had to win a track medal, star in a summer performance, become the #7 Tetris player in North America and maintain a non-weighted 4.0. For Jake, the deal-maker was a sandwich.

Jake and Crystal joined dragon boat around the same time. For anyone wondering, dragon boat is a form of competitive water racing that dates back to ancient times, when warring Chinese factions jostled for control of the seven kingdoms. After many generations, a general known as the Mother of Dragons made a surprise attack from the sea and finally ended the war.

The sandwich came shortly after.

We all took a trip to Long Beach—a beautiful, ridiculously over-the-top party town where people drank, danced, and paddled like there was no tomorrow. We were in high school, so the only thing we participated in was the paddling.

After our first round of races, I ate dinner with the team, crawled into my hotel room, and knocked TF out. When I woke up, Jake and Crystal were out.

“I’m not good enough for you,” Jake had said the previous night, as they sat at the nearby beach and pretended to look at the water. They had been dating for over half a page now.

“Why do you say that?” she asked, in a voice that was always calm and mellow because that’s what Crystal’s voice is like.

“You’re smart, and you’re beautiful, and if you weren’t with me then you could find someone else.”

They talked until the light came back. In the afternoon, when one of us finally asked, they were still together. Maybe it was conversations like those that made their relationship stronger.

We all stayed in the team and paddled a lot.

JUST KIDDING. Most people didn’t stay in the team. Those of us who did, paddled a lot.

We talked between laps.

“I can’t get pho with you guys,” said Tony one day.

“Traitor,” I said.

“Well, I’m applying for the Gates Millennium Scholarship. I don’t think I have a chance...the probability of winning that is lower than the probability of getting into Harvard.”

“You know what would be awesome? If you got into Harvard AND got the Gates Millennium Scholarship.”

With that, Tony burst out laughing.

20,000 strokes later:

“I think I’m going to go to Davis now,” I said.

“Just like that?” asked Stanley. “You’ve changed your mind this easily?”

“The froyo was really good.”

A few months and many, many strokes later:

“I think I’m going to stay in the city,” said Jake.

“I’m not,” said Crystal.

…..

….

It’s been years.

A few weeks ago, living alone at my apartment in an unheard-of town, I got really bored and wrote this. Not bored like...not enough time. It’s a different kind of boredom.

As I wrote, Jake was at his own apartment. He never left the city. On his desk, he looked at a picture of Crystal, had a brief flashback, and then tucked it away in a drawer. On full display was a picture of his current girlfriend.

Crystal wistfully looked out her window. Her current boyfriend was sleeping next to her, and southern California was shining out in the distance.

Unable to sleep, she tiptoed out of bed, made her way to the kitchen, and spent an hour preparing herself a fancy PBJ sandwich. The sandwich made her happy again, and she gingerly went back to bed.

She quickly fell asleep.

*****

For our high school graduation, the valedictorian reminded us that everyone would eventually be dead. He talked a lot about human hatred, and disease, and nuclear war. The rest of the speech was optimistic, but all anyone remembered were those first few sentences.

Then our high school salutatorian spoke. “I’m going to talk about love,” he said, “and cures for diseases, and...the opposite of everything else Jon spoke about. By the way, my name is Jon. Both of us are named Jon.” The second Jon’s speech was met with rounds of applause that continually increased in both volume and duration.

After his salutatorian speech, Jon (again, the second one) was required to present the CSF trophy to the member with the highest GPA. Tony won it. I can’t remember the explanation.

There were graduations everywhere that day. I don’t even remember all the things that happened. Aaron presented a senior video, and Katherine won one of the highest honors, and then Emma and Alonzo and Colin won numerous scholarships. And somewhere, just a few miles out of San Francisco, Zach almost met his future wife.

Part IV

“Do you feel like time is moving really quickly?” I asked Tony one day, a little after our college graduation.

“What do you mean?” asked Tony. “Time has always been moving at a constant speed.”

“That’s not what I mean.” “Oh, that’s right. According to Einstein-”

“What I mean is that life events are happening really quickly. My coworker just bought a house. Someone brought up marriage the other day when talking about her boyfriend.”

“Well, we are at that age.”

“Are we, though?”

Rena, David and I went right into the workforce. Most of the people I knew from Davis either stayed for grad school, or applied to various medical school programs. In my first month of work, they asked me to help hire the next round of people. That they asked me to play any part in this was beyond crazy.

“So after my senior design project helped cure Type 2 Diabetes,” said Zach, “I decided to direct my talents into another side-project. It was like Google, for porn.”

“That second thing is the most brilliant idea I’ve ever heard,” I said. “I have never visited a porn site, but I can only imagine the potential. Now, on an unrelated note...how do you feel about loyalty?”

“I don’t believe in it, period. You do your job, and if you don’t do a good one then you step aside. The lack of loyalty cuts both ways - if a job doesn’t satisfy you, you quit.”

“That’s the realest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say,” I said. “The other responses people gave me were so full of shit. I’m going to recommend that they hire you immediately.”

A few months passed. If it sounds like I’m rushing, it’s because that’s what it really felt like. Tony joined a start-up, and the boss was such a dick that Tony started his own company and bought out his boss’. All of this was just to fire him. That’s how much of a dick he was.

Zach’s talents were quickly recognized by everyone except his manager. He also bought a house. He was also accepted into grad school. Then, out of nowhere, his girlfriend called him.

“Remember that time we had unprotected sex?” she asked.

“Which time?”

“I don’t know, but I’m pregnant.”

“Shit.”

And just like that, a year passed.

I still had the same coffee mug, and I still drank the same flavor of beer at the same bar, and I still lived exactly where I was before. Also, I still didn’t get pointers at all. Seg faults were my life.

“How was your wedding?” I asked Zach once, out of the blue. Last I checked, he had proposed.

“What wedding?” he asked.

“Um...how’s the baby?” I asked, as if that were a logical transition from my last question.

“I told you,” he said. “She lost it.”

“Is that why you didn’t marry her?” I asked.

“I mean, that’s not the reason we’re not together anymore. A lot of things have happened.”

“You don’t say.”

Zach quit later, but not...immediately after. I don’t know how to make time go slower. I don’t even know at this point how much time had passed.

He wrote me a letter. All it said was You can stay there if you want, Evan, but I don’t recommend it. You’re in the kind of city that people leave.

I don’t know what happens to everyone in the story after that, because now we’re all caught up with the present.

#short story #fiction #prose

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gamesmakers · 8 years

Text

That Time We Took Over the World

For @mores2sl.

Kensington, England

April 13, 2015

Local Time: 8:42 AM

“Everdeen.” He rose his glass to her before taking a long swig of what had better be water. “And here I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”

“You know, I just spent eleven hours flying here from Los Angeles. I even paid fourteen bucks extra for internet so Effie could get ahold of me if your condition changed. The least you could do is act like you had a heart attack this morning.”

“Yesterday morning, but I’m all right. They’ll get me some stints, and I’ll be better than ever.” Now that she got a good look at Haymitch, she saw what Effie had been so worried about when they talked this, fine, yesterday morning. The IV bag was all too obvious, but all the quips and one-liners in the world couldn’t hide the fifteen years he seemed to have put on since she’d seen him last Christmas. With the extra gray in the beard he never shaved but had never quite filled in and the deep bags under his eyes, he looked far older than fifty-nine. Those decades of hard living had finally caught up with him. “Y’know, I was thinking earlier.”

“You don’t say.” She didn’t care if he had been dead for almost two minutes yesterday. Haymitch walking into his own favorite insult was too good of an opportunity to pass by.

He glared at her. “As I was saying, I was thinking about your career after these goons were still trying to figure out if they’d saved me or not.” If he thought the legion of medical professionals who restarted his heart were goons, he had to be feeling better.

“And what did you decide?” she prompted.

“Now, hear me out. This might not seem like the most natural pairing, but the more I think about it, the more I think it could really work out well. People really dig that fusion shit, you know?”

“Haymitch!”

He took another drink of his water, then set it aside. “So, kid, tell me. What do you know about Peeta Mellark?”

Chelsea, England

April 13, 2015

Local Time: 11:27 PM

In the late nineties, nobody could escape the Tributes - not that anybody besides a few jealous teenage boys and tired parents really wanted to. The more enthusiastic members of the media heralded the five boys as a return to the Golden Age. They sang. They danced. They even made a film that, surprisingly enough, wasn’t terrible. “Like five Frank Sinatras,” one Rolling Stone critic wrote about them, “but more good-looking.” For teenagers who had been holding down part-time jobs at McDonald’s and Burger King not a year prior, it was high praise indeed. But the longer one watched them, the more justified the comparison seemed. With fourteen chart-topping singles and practically constant sellout world tours, they were on the road to the kind of superstardom that actually manages to worm its way into the history books.

But tastes changed, interest waned, and almost as suddenly as they had shot to fame, the Tributes’ career fizzled out. The former teen idols were suddenly the butt of jokes everywhere from late night talk shows to schoolyards. There was an attempt at a comeback, then another, but the only mercy came when the group officially announced their breakup. With that last blast of publicity, the group somehow managed to fade from the public consciousness completely.

Only one member managed to emerge from the rubble unscathed. Finnick Odair had in some ways always been the star of the group. The man was the closest thing the world had to a living, breathing Adonis. Nobody could really blame the army of managers, executives, and publicity workers that fueled any operation as big as the Tributes for wanting to place him in the center of every photograph or giving him the most solos. Issues of consent and sexualization of a sixteen-year-old hadn’t been the world’s main priority as they collectively drooled over the most recent pictures of him. At least publicly, Finnick seemed to have been able to brush that off with no big impact. Even fifteen years later, his new releases were almost guaranteed to land in the top ten, and he snagged the starring roles in some of Hollywood’s biggest movies.

Katniss had never been his biggest fan, but like every other heterosexual female she knew, she followed him on Instagram. Something about the muscular star holding his new baby and grinning really did it for her. She’d blame it on evolution.

Tonight, Finnick Odair wasn’t her main focus. She scrolled down the Wikipedia article to find the section on Peeta Mellark. Okay, she vaguely remembered him from the poster Prim had hung in their shared bedroom when she was in middle school. The article said he had released his first and only solo album seven years ago and continued to tour, though a quick scan of the upcoming dates and venues showed that he was mostly going to small casinos and clubs. Katniss kind of wanted to judge him for that, but then again, Haymitch wouldn’t go around trying to pair her up with a successful artist. Sure, she played guitar – really well, actually, well enough to make a very comfortable living off of session work – but you couldn’t start a conversation with random strangers on the street about Katniss Everdeen’s style.

She clicked out of that article and returned to the YouTube mix entitled ‘Tributes and Peeta Mellark Ultimate Fanmix :-)’. As a thirty-two-year-old woman and devoted artist, did she feel ridiculous sitting here, listening to ‘90s pop? Absolutely. Did she find herself humming along? Well, the Tributes had gotten popular for a reason.

San Bernadino, California

May 4, 2015

Local Time: 9:56 PM

Peeta Mellark took his job very seriously. One would have to if they were going to go onstage at the San Manuel Indian Bingo & Casino in an outfit straight from a music video that came out twenty years ago. The black pants and tight-fitting, primary colored t-shirts had looked a little too Star Trek in 1997, and the look hadn’t aged well. She applauded professionalism and devotion to one’s craft as much as the next person, but there came a point where one should walk away with their head held high and try something outside of entertainment. Katniss estimated Peeta had reached that point about ten years ago. The cheese value of this routine was through the roof. He did more flirting with the audience than actual singing, and every joke had the muddy flavor of having been used night after night for years. In a few spots, no matter how hard she tried to be polite, she had to roll her eyes. Good thing Peeta had managed to comp her a ticket for this show, or she’d be out more than the mileage to drag herself out to San Bernadino.

“For my next song, I’d like to mix it up a little and take suggestions from the audience. Anything’s fair game, mine or not.”

The crowd ate it up the same way they’d gobbled up the jokes earlier. Could they not see that he had a plant? At best, he might take a suggestion from an actual audience member and accept it if it happened to be in the lineup of songs he and his backing group had rehearsed, but otherwise, he’d move on to the predetermined ‘guest’ who’d lob him an easy one. Oldest trick in the book.

“Um, how about you, ma’am? Dark hair, braid, right in front of the stage, very pretty. What would you like to hear?”

It took Katniss a second to realize that he was referring to her. Her mind scrambled through an inventory of thousands of songs, but one kept coming up again and again. “’Til There Was You’.” Not exactly her usual style, and it came as a missed opportunity to see what he could do with something more folky, but oh well. She could grill him on folk’s greats later. It wasn’t like he would actually play her song anyway.

“Gotta love musicals. Who here likes The Music Man?” The crowd cheered as Peeta moved to the piano. Wait, was he actually going to follow through with this? She had to give him some respect for that. His accompaniment wasn’t what she would expect out of a professional pianist, but it got the job done. “I’ve got this on the CD I play when I’m driving to work. It’s one of my favorites.”

The voice she heard then barely sounded like the one she’d heard earlier. That had been as stale as his jokes, but now, he sent emotion rippling through the room. For a moment, Meredith Willson’s metaphorical bells were very, very real, and she did hear them ringing, and maybe, just maybe, Haymitch had been on to something.

San Bernadino, California

May 4, 2015

Local Time: 11:05 PM

After the show, several women her age and older loitered around the stage. Peeta chatted with them one at a time, all winks and smiles that promised something naughty. Now, she had hung around with enough big stars to know that chatting up women after the show was to be expected, but did he not remember that they had a meeting scheduled? According to the schedule Effie had found for her, he had three more shows at this very venue in the next week. There would be plenty of other chances to get laid, but he had royally screwed up his first meeting with a potential business partner. Good to know he had his priorities straight.

Only after he had gathered a few telephone numbers did he deign to join her. “Katniss?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” He smiled, and she rose to shake his hand. “After that show, you don’t need any introduction.”

“Nice to finally meet you in person.” Maybe he was just a good actor, but the words sounded genuine. Then again, he had sounded pretty genuine a few minutes ago when he was prepping new notches for his bedpost, so maybe she shouldn’t put too much weight on that. “Sorry to put you on the spot back there. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“You did really well with it.”

“Thanks. I really do have it on CD in my car, but I’d never performed it live before tonight. Especially coming from you, it’s great to hear I did all right with it.” He sat down at the table for two that had been hers alone for the show. “I’ve been reading a lot about you since we talked on the phone. I didn’t realize how many of my favorite albums you’ve been on.” God damn it, she couldn’t let him charm her the way he had those other women, but goodness did it feel nice to hear her work praised. “I mean, you’ve worked with everyone around. The Stones, Madonna, I think I saw McCartney on there too. I know you want to do something more on the folk side, but your catalog is pop and rock and roll royalty.”

“Thanks.” She was going to start blushing if he didn’t tone it down a little. He leaned in just a little, and Katniss met those gorgeous blue eyes, and well, it was too late on that whole not blushing thing. “Really, thanks.”

“Sorry, I just don’t think you studio musicians get enough credit. You’re the ones who make the rest of us look good, and we don’t bother to say thanks often enough.”

Definitely buttering her up, then. Good. That meant he wanted to go through with Haymitch’s scheme, erm, idea. She smiled at him. “Flattering as this is, if we don’t stop trading compliments, I think we’ll be sitting here for hours and I’d really like to go home at some point.” Two could play that game. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on Haymitch’s proposal.”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen,” he laughed. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head ever so slightly. “I’m not sure it’s what’s best for my career.” Wait, what? How was it that Peeta Mellark, corny C-grade casino performer, was the one putting a stop to this? She had an actual career. At any moment, there were five or ten requests for her to come in and play, and with the big names too, and he thought this wasn’t right for him? Her knuckles went white as she fisted her hands into the tablecloth. He must have noticed, because he immediately backpedaled. “That sounded bad. What I mean is, well, this might not seem like a lot to you, but I kind of like it. I get to travel all the time. I constantly get to meet new people. It’s not a very glamorous part of showbiz, but it keeps food on the table and lets me sing instead of working at the bakery back home.

“That being said, I’ve been doing this at varying levels nonstop for twenty years, and I’m ready to try something new.”

“So you want to go for it.”

“I’d at least like to test some things out, yeah.”

“That’s about at the point where I am too,” she admitted.

He had a great smile. It wasn’t fair, really, that he got the eyes, the smile, and the voice all rolled up in one package. How was the female portion of the population supposed to resist? Katniss stopped herself before she could take that line of thought too far. If things worked out, they would be business partners, and even if people didn’t always respect professional boundaries in this industry, she was better than that. “Then I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“Casablanca and The Music Man in one night?”

“Hey, if someone’s said it better already, why not let them say it for you?”

“I hope that’s not the approach you take to songwriting,” she deadpanned.

Peeta winked. “As you wish.”

“Princess Bride, and you’d better.”

Los Angeles, California

June 25, 2015

Local Time: 3:09 PM

“I’m so sorry, that session was only supposed to last the morning. He promised we’d be out by noon.” She really ought to spend some more quality time with that stupid treadmill she’d shelled out six hundred bucks for the Christmas before last. Katniss had only run from the corner to the front door of Haymitch’s office, but even after a few seconds spent panting and wondering if she was about to collapse dead, she still sounded like she was trying for a personal best marathon time.

On second thought, maybe dying wouldn’t have been so bad. Three sets of eyes were on her, the expressions on them a rainbow that went from concerned to amused to annoyed. Yes, an hour and forty minutes late was bad, but she had called as soon as she knew the session was going to run long.

Peeta broke the silence first. “Hey, Katniss. How are you?”

She smiled at him as she took the remaining seat. “I’m pretty good. Howa bout you, Peeta? Effie?” She didn’t need some smartass answer from Haymitch right now, so she left him out.

Not that that strategy ever worked. “So, who chased you up here?”

He got a well-deserved glare for that one. “I just couldn’t wait to get back in your presence. It’s such a magical place to be.”

Effie giggled at that, light and tinkling, but then it was all business. “We’ve been filling Peeta in on the basic business plan we have for you. Katniss, you’ve said that you have quite the catalog of songs built up, so we figured it would be best to use one of them for first single.” She turned to Peeta. “You’ll love them. She won’t brag about them, modest thing she is, but Haymitch has played a few of her demos for me, and they’re just lovely.” If Peeta wasn’t here, she would have hit him. She’d never given Haymitch permission to show any of those recordings to anybody. “If we can’t find anything we like in there, we can always find something to cover, but well, neither of you is getting any younger, and it’s better to get something out as soon as possible.” Katniss did her best not to flinch at that. She knew age was more of an issue for her than Peeta. Female stardom seemed to have an expiration date of around thirty-five, and she was getting closer every day. “Ideally, we’ll have you in the studio next week, have a single out on iTunes in six weeks tops. Then we’ll get you out on tour and hope for the best.”

“Do you ever hope for anything else?” Haymitch asked. “Ouch!” Oh good, if Effie hadn’t kicked him for that, Katniss would’ve had to, and after that admittedly short run, she didn’t feel like moving at all.

Effie smiled at them. “Any questions?”

She and Peeta exchanged glances and shrugs. “I think we’re good.”

“Excellent. Then let’s get started on the paperwork.”

To both of their credit, neither groaned audibly, but Katniss was pretty sure it was a shared sentiment.

Los Angeles, California

June 29, 2015

Local Time: 9:40 AM

Buttercup had only stayed with her for a week while Prim was out of town, and that had been a month ago, but she still found orange cat hair all over her furniture. On days like today, when she wore black, she might as well just add a pair of Tigger ears to complete the costume. Peeta’s black pants were going to be a mess when he got up too. Fingers crossed, he wouldn’t notice.

It would be a lot harder to ignore the fact that she’d said she was going to the kitchen to find some snacks but would return empty-handed. She blamed it on the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle. Her minifridge currently held the three-day-old remnants of a meal at Chili’s, three bottles of beer, half a jar of dill pickles, and a thing of ketchup. She didn’t even like ketchup. The pantry wasn’t much better. She’d been trying to cut down on her salty snacks habit, which was both doing nothing to help her slim down and not very helpful when it came to being a gracious hostess.

Opening the fridge a second time did nothing to help finger foods magically appear. What a time for witchcraft to fail her. She settled for grabbing two of the beers and heading back to the living room. A+ hostess. They ought to stamp her high society entrance ticket right now.

Peeta sat cross-legged in the center of the room, eyes closed and swaying along with the music flooding through the oversized headphones. She had spent hours over the past three days going through the songs she’d written over the years. Like everything, ninety percent of them were absolute shit, but she hadn’t touched some of them since high school, and revisiting them had brought her almost as many smiles as cringes. Almost.

“Anything sticking out to you?”

Peeta slipped off the headphones. “Yeah. How do you not have a solo career? Your voice is great.”

“Not what I was asking.”

“But inquiring minds want to know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Want a Bud Light?” She hadn’t even been prepared enough to buy decent beer.

“Yes, please.” She handed him the bottle, and he cracked it open and took a long sip, studying her the whole time. “You know, I’m not sure what to think of you.”

“Thank you very little.”

He grinned. “Caddyshack?”

“Yep. Two can play at that game.” She sat down on her sad, worn couch and opened her own beer. “And one can win.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to turn it into a competition. I’ve been touring at least eight months of the year for the past decade, and Netflix and I have spent a lot of quality time together.”

“I thought you liked traveling.” He had said that, hadn’t he? She probably should’ve been paying more attention to the words he said and less to the lips that said them during their earlier meetings, but who could blame a girl for looking? A painfully single woman whose only serious relationship had petered out eight years ago had every excuse.

“Oh, I do, a lot. And I try to get a good taste of the local culture wherever I go, but when you’re in Boise for the sixth time, you kind of run out of new things to do.”

“Fair.”

“Okay, you’ve dodged the question for long enough. Who are you?”

That question made her feel like a Bond girl: sexy, mysterious, and more likely than not playing both sides flawlessly. Too bad she had no idea what those two sides would be in this situation and all her foreign, ‘exotic’ accents were shit. “I’m not sure what you’re after.”

He scooched away to lean back against the room’s single chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re just hard to figure out is all.” Peeta paused for a minute, collecting his thoughts. “What I mean is, I don’t understand why you’d be interested in this arrangement. You’re a rock guitarist, and you’re very successful at it, but the stuff you want to record is all pretty folky. I’m open to anything, but my background’s in pop.”

“Haymitch suggested it, and I thought it sounded like a good idea.”

“That doesn’t add up either. Why is it that you have a manager that’s mostly involved in the country scene?”

“Oh, that’s just coincidence. Haymitch was married to my mom for a very short time when I was a teenager, and we stayed in touch after they divorced. He actually got me my first break.” She rose one eyebrow. “That, or we’ve carefully crafted an intricate spider web of lies with which to entrap you.”

“A guy can never be too careful. The pretty ones are dangerous.”

She made note of that comment so the part of her that was still fourteen could overanalyze and obsess over it later. “Do you have a song picked out?”

“I’ve got it narrowed down to three, but I’m leaning toward ‘Mockingjay’.”

“I like that one too. Want to go for it?”

He laughed. “We’ve really put a lot of careful consideration into all of this, haven’t we?”

“Let’s call it great minds thinking alike instead.”

Annapolis, Maryland

September 1, 2015

Local Time: 9:07 PM

Peeta looked over to her and grinned. Ready? he mouthed.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping the butterflies would fly out of her stomach as she exhaled. When had that ever worked?

“Don’t worry. You’ll be great.” He could say that all he wanted. He’d been doing shows practically constantly for twenty years. Bill Clinton had still been president the last time she did a live gig. No, maybe it had been in 2001, right after Bush the Younger came into office. Either way, if it had been long enough that she didn’t remember the year, she certainly didn’t know what it would feel like. Fuck, it had been a few years since she’d been able to ride a roller coaster without feeling sick to her stomach the rest of the day, and that was way less adrenaline than getting in front of two hundred people and singing. Never mind that most of them were there to see Peeta, and that she was a sideshow attraction at best, she’d still be up there with him, and –

“Katniss, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I mean it.” Peeta gave her upper arm the gentlest of punches. “You’re great. If you can play for Paul McCartney and impress him, you’ll amaze these people.”

Like wax strips, sometimes it was just better to tug things off as quickly as possible, bleeding or other bodily injury be damned. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“All right.” He winked. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

She frowned at him. “Casablanca, and that’s not the spirit at all.”

Peeta gave her another one of those grins that she was quickly coming to hate – or love, if there was any difference. “But it got your mind off of it.”

Annapolis, Maryland

September 1, 2015

Local Time: 10:56 PM

There wasn’t bleach strong enough to wipe the smile off her face. Who cared if she’d forgotten some of the words in the third verse of “Blowin’ In The Wind”? It hadn’t been her favorite song since middle school, and nobody could understand what Dylan was singing half the time anyway. It lent authenticity to their performance. The adrenaline had kicked in somewhere around the third number, and she hadn’t even wanted to take a break in between sets. While Peeta had gone to grab them some water, she had stayed on stage, singing any song that came to mind. Rock, folk, show tunes, at this point, she didn’t care. Why had she ever cared about that? Distinctions were stupid. She could play one thing as well as another, and if the audience didn’t mind, she wasn’t going to act all high and mighty about which things were better than which. Who got to decide what was good and not? Not her, that’s for sure, and if she had her way, they’d stop using words like that. Outdated language was what it was, not taking into account personal taste. As always, the patriarchy stayed hard at work, grueling over their 1950s-era language like they knew best. They’d be upset when they got home and realized she didn’t have dinner ready for them, but their time was long gone, and hers had dawned.

“It’s about time that we wrap up for tonight.” A few audience members groaned at Peeta’s words. He cocked his head and grinned. “Don’t be too sad. We’re going to miss you too. But, before we head out, we’ve got a real treat for you: our first public performance of our new single, ‘Mockingjay,’ now available!”

“One, two, three, four!” She started with the guitar, and there it was, out for the world to see. Katniss had practiced this song hundreds of times since Haymitch and Effie pulled this tour together two weeks before. Every night before bed, every morning when she woke up. If she wasn’t playing it, she was thinking through it, running through the chords, quizzing herself on the lyrics. Her fingers knew what to do, and the word slipped out without any conscious thought, and for the first time in years, she could just be.

She watched, and she listened, but mostly, she floated above everything. It sounded so cheesy in retrospect, but she felt like she was in the audience more than on stage, watching herself and Peeta as an outsider. She loved it, all of it. The words sat right in a way that only her own words could, the representation of feelings that, though shared in some respect with the rest of humanity, were hers and hers alone. She basked in his voice, swayed with her accompaniment, and the chorus slowly pulled her back to herself. At the second chorus, she and Peeta locked eyes, and they didn’t break their gaze until the last chord finishing reverberating through the room.

Applause made her nerves light up brighter than the Christmas tree at the Rockefeller Center. Heat rushed to Katniss’ cheeks, and as soon as she finished two stiff bows, she got the hell out of there. Though Peeta had spent several minutes greeting fans after his show in San Bernadino, he followed only a few steps behind. “You were great!” he said, beaming. Post-gig afterglow was definitely a real phenomenon.

“You think so?” She should say something nice about his performance back, but her mind was still reeling from all of it, and that had only been a hundred and fifty people. What would she do if they ever sold out a stadium? Probably too early to be thinking about that, considering that before the show, they’d only sold ninety-seven copies of ‘Mockingjay’ on iTunes, and that number included Prim, her mom, and all of Peeta’s family, but it never hurt to plan ahead.

“Incredible.” He’d moved even closer. From here, it was impossible not to notice how brilliantly blue his eyes were, and she just wanted to stare at them for a while, commit every detail of them to memory. It didn’t register that there might be a reason Peeta’s face was so close until his lips met hers.

One hand found his shoulder while the fingers of the other carded through thick blonde hair. He wrapped his arms around her, warm and strong, and she sighed against him, moving herself in closer still. Peeta’s breathing turned ragged as his fingers brushed against the back of her neck, and though she keened into the touch, the rational part of her brain finally kicked in. Katniss wanted nothing more than to give in, to do as she’d wanted to from the moment they’d met, but as warmth and desire curled and pooled within her, she moved her lips away from his. “Peeta,” she said, breathless. “Peeta, this is a bad idea.”

His forehead furrowed for the briefest of instants, then he stepped away. “I’m sorry. I thought – never mind. I apologize.”

“No, don’t.” God, she wanted to kiss him again, replace that regret with the passion she’d felt just seconds prior. She wet her lips, and his eyes followed the motion. “I mean, don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again.”

“Of course,” he responded, avoiding her eyes. Somehow, she doubted the plain white wall was really that interesting, but Katniss wasn’t going to call him out on that. She’d done enough damage already. “Um, should I go, or do you want me to stick around and walk you back to your room?”

She was more than capable of finding her way from the hotel’s club back to her room, thank you very much, and any other time, she would make sure he knew that. “I’d like to walk with you.” Katniss glanced down at his hand, thought about how nice it would be to walk up hand in hand, invite him inside, let herself cut loose for the first time in months, but he stuffed his fists into his pockets. “Peeta?” she asked. “It really is all right.”

He gave her the stiffest nod she’d ever received.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

November 7, 2015

Local Time: 8:31 AM

“Katniss!” The door rattled on its hinges as he knocked. Wanted to wake up the entire hotel, did he? “Katniss!”

Eight thirty was way too early to be dealing with this kind of shit. Still, she didn’t want the poor guests that got stuck next to her to have any more of their mornings ruined. With a sigh, she hoisted herself out of bed and padded over to the door. “What’s wrong?” she said as the door swung open to reveal a far too excited Peeta.

“Wrong? We’re in the top ten!”

“Wait, really?” Any remaining grogginess disappeared in an instant. “Let me see!”

He pressed his phone into her hands and stepped further into her room.

Her hand flew up to her mouth to cover her gasp. There it was, everything she’d been dreaming of. A top ten chart, and there they were, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, right at sweet, sweet number three. She never thought she’d live to see the day. It had seemed impossible, the ultimate pipe dream. No, some random pipe had a better chance of being stolen and made into a found art item valued at a million dollars than she had of releasing a hit single. Incredible. Just incredible.

She turned at a popping sound to see Peeta standing next to the dresser, pouring two glasses of champagne. Usually, she’d say it was too early to start drinking, but today, Katniss could get away with anything. Damn responsibility. Who was going judge her for a little early-morning alcohol? The only other person who knew about this was right there in the same boat with her.

Wait, what chart was this? God, she hoped it was the Hot 100. Anything was a godsend, but Billboard… Billboard was something else, and –

Sverigetopplistan. There was no way that was a real word. She couldn’t even begin to pronounce it. But it had the words ‘top’ and ‘list’, and that couldn’t be good.

A quick Google search told her everything she needed to know. “We’re only number three in Sweden?”

“We’re actually at three in Finland too. ‘Mockingjay’ is doing really well all across Scandinavia. I know it’s in the top twenty in Denmark and Norway, and I want to say it’s doing about the same in Latvia or Lithuania – I don’t remember which. Isn’t it great?”

“Uh, yeah.” She couldn’t help that her voice sounded a little flat.

Peeta winced. “Sorry, the way I said that made it sound like we had it on the British or American charts, didn’t it? I wasn’t trying to get your hopes up.” He held up the glass. “Champagne? I shelled out for some halfway decent stuff.”

She accepted the glass. “Thanks. To us?”

“To our continuing success,” he replied. They clinked their glasses together. “You know, I think we’re looking at this the wrong way. We are now international pop stars.”

“We appeal to the more refined tastes of the European market,” she added.

“America might be our homeland, but it is also our respite from our legions of devoted fans.” The CDC probably classified Peeta’s smile as a communicable disease. “Why would you want to be on the Walk of Fame in Hollywood when you could be on the one in Stockholm? Much cleaner.”

Katniss laughed and went for another sip of champagne only to find it was all gone. He noticed and went to fetch the bottle. “We can’t have you running out of champagne. After that first hit, you never know when the diva behavior is going to start kicking in.”

“You know, you’re really lucky that you’re cute, because otherwise, there’s no way I would put up with that.” The words just slipped out before she could really think about what she was saying. She hadn’t drank enough yet to blame it on the champagne yet, either. Damn it. Alcoholism was a terrible disease, and she understood that, but what she wouldn’t give right now to use Haymitch’s ‘I haven’t been in complete control of my actions for a decade’ excuse.

Peeta’s grin widened. “Just how much would you let me get away with?” His expression was pure sin, and Katniss blushed practically down to her toes.

“Has Haymitch heard the news yet?” Time to change the subject before she said anything even more regretful.

And as though flirting was as easy to turn on and off as a light switch – and for him, maybe it was – Peeta was back to friendly but professional. “Yeah, he’s the one who called me. Believe it or not, I don’t spend my mornings browsing the Scandinavian pop charts.”

“You might have to start now.”

“Good point. Guess I can work it into my busy schedule somehow,” Peeta laughed.

Gary, Indiana

November 23, 2015

Local Time: 10:14 AM

Peeta was a world-class pacer. Unless social niceties dictated that he absolutely had to sit, the man kept to his little four steps forward, right turn, four steps, right turn habit at all times. And so when Katniss walked into his hotel room – they’d left knocking behind weeks ago – to find him talking on the phone and standing stock-still in the very center of the room, she immediately grew concerned.

He didn’t notice her presence, too focused on his conversation to hear soft footsteps against the carpet. She moved back towards the door. He deserved his privacy as much as anyone else. “Yeah, for sure. That’d be a great opportunity, and I’m sure Katniss is on board too.” At the sound of her name, she froze. “I just need to check that the schedule will work out. We’re on the road right now, and you know how I am with dates.” He paused while the person on the other end spoke. “Of course. I’ll call our manager right now and get back to you as soon as I’ve got something. Yep, talk to you soon. Say hi to Annie and Ronan for me.”

“Who was that, and what am I on board for?”

Peeta jumped at the sound of her voice, but he quickly recovered. “Finnick. He’s got a big tour coming up, and his opening act canceled on him at the last minute. He’s wondering if we’re available.” She managed to keep her mouth from falling open, but only barely. Peeta laughed. “Yeah, that was my reaction too. He says he really likes ‘Mockingjay,’ and Annie – that’s his wife, she’s a sweetheart – has been playing it nonstop for days.”

In any other circumstance, she would be flattered, but her mind could only focus on one of those ideas at a time. “He wants us to tour with him?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it great? I mean, you do want to, right?”

“When?” She sounded breathless. Accurate.

“His first show’s in Seattle on the fourteenth.”

“Three weeks.” Okay, they could do three weeks. It might be a little bit of a logistical nightmare to get everything together, but it was an achievable logistical nightmare with some fantastic benefits. How many people attended each of Finnick’s concerts? She’d gone and seen him at the Hollywood Bowl a few years ago with friends, and that place had to seat twenty thousand, easy. He could probably sell out much bigger stadiums, too, and even if the audience wasn’t super excited by the prospect of listening to something kind of folky before the pop show, that was still twenty thousand more people exposed to their music, and even if only one, two percent wanted to go and pick up the album…

“Katniss? What do you think?”

She snatched his phone out of his hand. “I’m going to call Haymitch. He and Effie can make this work. I don’t care if we have to rearrange a few other dates.” She laughed, probably looking like a crazy woman. Oh well. Crazy old witch was one thing, but successful crazy old witch was pretty freaking fantastic.

Los Angeles, California

December 9, 2015

Local Time: 4:21 PM

Beyond a nice dinner with Prim at Sae’s, Katniss scheduled nothing for the two weeks she would be in Los Angeles before they started touring again. Nothing was going to get in the way of her sleeping as much as possible. She put in a grocery order with a delivery service and checked out of life for two weeks. After more than two months of almost-nonstop touring, she deserved it.

It got old after two days. By the third, she was ready to pull hair, and whether it was hers or someone else’s didn’t much matter. Most of her friends weren’t around on an everyday basis – she supposed that kind of came with the entertainment business – and anyway, she’d never been the most social sort. Katniss knew she should be resting up for the next tour, but instead, she found herself filling every waking moment with something. The pervs that hung out on practically every street corner in Los Angeles had always turned her off of walking around the city by herself, but almost every day, she took hours-long walks around her area. She ducked into art galleries and coffee shops she’d noted as places to check out but never managed to get to and wandered around the city’s parks, snapping photos and picking the occasional flower when no one was watching.

As she explored, she allowed herself to think. Big mistake. She didn’t confine herself to any single topic, and she covered quite a bit of ground. Art, the meaning of life, whether or not she’d remembered to lock the apartment on her way out, all of it came up. But she mostly thought about Peeta. He was three thousand miles away in Boston, and she still couldn’t get away from him. Peeta Mellark had ruined ogling cute blond guys, because none of them could quite measure up. She’d see some diet-busting pastry in a window, and her mind would leap to the cheese buns and raspberry tarts she’d tried from his family’s bakery when they’d played that gig in Worcester. He had even infiltrated her blessed TV-watching, because flipping through channels, she’d end up on TCM, and there he was again with one of those movie quotes that she hated but couldn’t get enough of.

When she ended up watching one of the films, she’d text quotes to him, and no matter the time of day, within thirty seconds, he replied with the title. Katniss hoped he cheated and googled them. Nobody should have watched No Orchids for Miss Blandish enough times to be able to quote it.

Damn boy was driving her nuts. She’d given Delly a hard time in high school for crushes far less consuming. How low had she fallen?

Three more days until she saw him again, but who was keeping track?

Seattle, Washington

December 12, 2015

Local Time: 3:09 PM

“Peeta!” She ran towards him, luggage in tow. Two little old ladies moved to one side so she could pass, and one flashed her a thumbs up. Katniss had him wrapped in a hug the instant she got close enough. “How are you? How was Boston?”

He squeezed her. “I’ve been good. Kind of wondering why I thought it was a good idea to visit home in February, but it was good. Nice to see everyone.” He broke away first. Smart move – airport baggage claims were hardly the place for public displays of affection, even completely platonic ones between friends that definitely didn’t want to screw each other. “So, how’s California? Ten below and covered in snow like Boston?”

“Isn’t it always?”

Peeta laughed, and wow, had she missed that. Cliché as it was, Katniss was convinced that one noise could light up an entire room, maybe power all the street lights in Seattle for the rest of the year. “I’m sure you froze half to death.”

“I wore shorts every day I was home.”

“So did I. They only had to amputate one limb.”

“If you two are done, we’ve got the car waiting outside.” She spun to find Haymitch standing behind them and waiting.

“Hey, Haymitch. How’ve you been?”

“Good. Get in the car.” He pushed Peeta in front of him and stayed behind with Katniss a moment. “What do you think you’re doing, kid?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea anymore.”

Seattle, Washington

December 12, 2015

Local Time: 11:30 PM

“You know, I’ve been to rehab three times, and marrying your mother is still the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

“Rehab was a mistake?” She couldn’t let something like that slide.

“No, the choices I made that landed me there were mistakes.” Haymitch took another swig of his Southern Comfort. “And the first time I went to rehab was a mistake too - made me think that getting clean was gonna make me come to Jesus or some shit like that, scared me off the idea for years – but that’s not the point. They always tell you that your drinking is affecting the lives of the people you love, and trust me, they’re right. They’ve got more scientists than I can count running all kinds of studies and coming up with figures to show you how right they are. And I’m good at fucking up the lives of the people around me – you’ve seen it more times than I want to remember.”

Katniss nodded, wary. She was used to Haymitch drunk, or angry, or the quiet, determined way he got when he had a plan that he was dead-set on seeing to completion, but she hadn’t seen this kind of open emotion from him before. Frankly, the thought of some baring their soul, particularly to her, made Katniss a little nauseous. She had signed up for Thursday night drinks and catching up, not a feelings orgy worthy of the Hallmark channel.

But he kept going, a steamroller headed downhill at a hundred miles an with no brakes. “Well, I really thought I had things under control this time. Y’know, I’d been to rehab, managed to stay clean for a whole year. Still wanted a drink from the moment I got up right up ‘til I fell asleep at night, but I figured that was to be expected. I know you’ve heard all that before, but it bears worth repeating. Your mom, she just seemed perfect. Too perfect, looking back on things. Gorgeous, smart, patient as can be – you’d have to be, to put up with me.”

She had her own opinion on that matter, but now wasn’t the time. “Haymitch, I’ve got things to do today. You sure that –“

“Let me finish. Long story short, she was too good for me, and I knew it, but I somehow managed to con her into marrying me anyway. And guess what? All I wanted to do was make things better. I really did, and still do, care about how you all ended up, but I couldn’t keep it together, and I ended up taking you all with me. Made you move, have to do the whole new school, new friends thing, made you deal with my problems, forced you to deal with my divorce because I wasn’t responsible enough to deal with my shit by myself.” Tears had gathered in the corners of his eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should try to comfort him or bolt. Katniss settled for reaching over and giving him an awkward pat on the back. Beyond a few handshakes over the years, this might very well be the first time she’d touched Haymitch. She’d been twelve when he’d come into her family’s life, and at a point in her life when she scorned physical contact with everybody, and neither of them had ever been the touchy-feely type. “Cut it out. You see, it’s happening again. I’m the one who made you hurt, and now you’re cleaning me up. That’s what happens when you let someone who’s too good for you in. You take and take until there’s nothing left to give, and when they finally give up and leave you, you’re both left with nothing.”

“You think Peeta’s too good for me.”

Haymitch’s eyes were steady as he nodded.

“Fuck off.” God, she wanted to leave with that, but something kept her rooted in place. She choked on something that wasn’t quite a laugh and bordered on a sob. “That’s precious, coming from you.”

“There’s a reason we get along so well, sweetheart. Here, have some.” He pushed the bottle towards her, but she pushed it away as she rose, spilling fat drops of amber liquor all over the pristine white couch. It’d be a bitch to clean up later, she reflected, but then again, so would she.

Katniss didn’t stop running until she was well into the parking lot, and even then, she only stopped because there was no place to go.

That seemed to happen a lot these days.

Toronto, Ontario

January 10, 2016

Local Time: 11:11 AM

When she and Peeta had gone on tour previously, it really had been just the two of them, Peeta’s Lincoln, and four different hotel rewards cards. They didn’t have a lot of extra equipment, so there was no need for anyone to help them haul anything, and though there were at least daily phone calls with Effie and Haymitch, nobody needed to be there to hold their hand and get them to the gigs on time. It was bare-bones, but it was fun. Yeah, that meant that she had spent an evening in Peeta’s car with a bottle of nail polish remover after a less-than-successful attempt at giving herself a pedicure in a moving vehicle, but they also got to talk and joke and stop at stupid roadside attractions whenever they felt like it.

Finnick’s touring was as far away from that as one could get. First of all, they had a private jet. She supposed that made sense, as thirty-five people accompanied Finnick everywhere. Family, security, personal assistant, sound engineer, stage coordinator, the backing group, Katniss, Peeta, and two people whose purpose on the tour remained a mystery even four weeks into the three-month stint. She blamed those people for her current situation.

There was a timid knock, then the door opened just a crack. “Are you feeling okay?” Peeta asked.

“The only reason I know I’m not dead is that everything still hurts.” Her voice came out as little more than a whisper. Katniss had always liked to think that she could tough her way through just about anything. How nice of this cold/flu/sinus monstrosity to rid her of that delusion.

Peeta didn’t move away from the door. Smart guy. “Do you think you’re going to feel good enough to perform tonight?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t even a question. She would have to actually be dead to not show up for tonight’s show. In the halo ring that was this tour, tonight’s show, the only one that would be broadcast live to millions of home viewers, was the pendant diamond, the one your friends were really complimenting when they said how pretty the whole thing looked. They forecasted that twelve million viewers would tune in tonight. She was going to wow every single one of them.

“You can’t talk. How are you going to sing?”

“I’ll rest until then.”

Peeta frowned. “I’ll go to CVS. Do you like pills or liquid cold medicine better?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Liquid then. I’ll get some soup too. Don’t go around infecting anyone else.”

She mumbled something at that, but even Katniss wasn’t quite sure what point she was trying to get across.

Toronto, Ontario

January 10, 2016

Local Time: 4:55 PM

She loved those green lights. They should make all the lights green. Then the cars could go faster because they’d never have to stop, and all the people would be happy because they spent more time with their families and less time driving. Lots of good things were green. In fact, she couldn’t’ think of a single bad green thing. Money, trees, kale, those rain boots she’d been eyeing at Target since last winter… they should make everything green. It would be nicer that way. “Don’t you think so?”

“Don’t I think what?”

“That everything should be green.”

Peeta shook his head. “I think you’re a lot less coherent on cold medicine than you led me to believe. I don’t have any strong opinions on the color green.”

“That’s too bad.” Peeta had a green sweater that made his arms look fantastic. Maybe she could convince him to wear it more often.

He had other things on his mind. Peeta’s voice dropped. “Look, we’re going to have you lip sync tonight, all right? Haymitch has a tape of your part on all our songs, and all you’ll need to do is mouth along with the words and pretend to play your guitar.”

“Okay.” She hated lip syncing, but it was hard to be upset about things right now. Why think about the bad things when there was so much green?

Toronto, Ontario

January 10, 2016

Local Time: 7:21 PM

The wiggles went through her entire body when she tried to shake the nerves out, tickling enough that she giggled out loud. Her fingers felt fat and sluggish as they danced over her guitar. The object was so familiar that it might have been another limb, but holding it now, it could just as easily have come from another planet. The weight was off, the balance just not there, and when had the strings gotten so little? No matter. She’d made it through three songs. She could handle two more before she went backstage and conked out.

‘Mockingjay’ shouldn’t be too bad. The first chords were easy. It started nice and slow, perfect for beginners and heavily-medicated Katnisses, before picking up speed. She knew what she was doing. Same thing, just faster, and faster, and faster, and then –

She realized an instant too late that this was her verse. Her eyes widened, and she did her best to start mouthing along, but the damage had been done. Whispers from the crowd rolled over her in waves, and it was all she could do to not cry on stage.

They struggled through that next number. She gave it everything she had – so not much – but she couldn’t sell it. Because of her fuck up, both of them would be in the papers tomorrow. They’d never have a successful album. Hell, they might not even be able to record an album. Nobody would invite them on tour again. Peeta might be able to go back to his old career, but maybe not. Opportunities dried up quickly in this business, which she knew better than anyone.

Katniss fell apart as soon as she got backstage. “Katniss, hey, it’s no big deal. I should have told Finnick you couldn’t go on. I’m so sorry.” Peeta’s words burned like acid over fresh wounds. He knew what she had ruined, and here he was, comforting her. If she was going to wreck something for someone, why couldn’t she pick some awful person who kicked puppies or something? Why did it have to be the nicest, sweetest man she’d ever been lucky enough to meet? Haymitch was right. “Katniss, I’m really –“

She kissed him. “Shut up.” Another one, this time harder – and now that he had gotten over his initial shock, he responded. Peeta dragged her close, pressing her tight against his chest. One hand found her waist, and the other toyed with the ends of her braid. His heartbeat was going nuts, but so was hers, so she supposed that was fair, and she –

“Hey, you two have a dressing room for that.” Peeta pulled away, and she turned to glare at Haymitch. He wouldn’t be cowed so easily. “Hey, if you don’t want to start damage control right now, I’m gonna enjoy the concert.”

“It’s okay, Katniss.” Peeta pulled her into their shared dressing room. “It’ll be okay, all of it. I promise.”

The worry swelled over her again. “You can’t promise that.”

“We can avoid the internet for a couple days. It’ll blow over.”

She closed her eyes and nuzzled up against his chest. “Maybe.” At least he smelled nice. Small consolation, but she’d take what she could get.

He kissed the top of her head. “Either way, we can’t do anything about it now.”

Another thought came to her. “I’m sorry if I gave you the flu.” Because she just couldn’t stop screwing up today, could she?

“Hey, it’ll make it easier to not go online, right?” he laughed. Then his voice dropped. “But since I’m already infected, I suppose there’s not anything to keep me from kissing you again, is there?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her level.

Boston, Massachusetts

October 11, 2028

Local Time: 7:31 PM

She’d been convinced that it was Haymitch who always edited the “Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark” page on Wikipedia, but in the two years since his death, it continued to change. Every week, some new, strange story popped up that managed to keep the basic outline of their story the same while putting them into the strangest circumstances. She rather liked this one, a fairy-tale themed story involving dragons (poor Effie), a knight in shining armor, and herself as the beautiful princess trapped in the castle of studio work while she longed to be out among the people. Pity it had to go.

She copied and pasted the short version of the group’s history into editing window and hit ‘submit’. Nowhere near as interesting, but at least there were no beheadings in this version.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are an American folk-rock duo. Since the two artists began collaborating in 2015, they have released four studio albums and toured extensively. Though best known in the United States for their first single, ‘Mockingjay,’ and a lip-syncing controversy that occurred during a televised Finnick Odair performance, the duo has achieved great critical and commercial success in northern Europe. They are most popular in Sweden, where their third studio album ‘Girl on Fire’ held the number one chart position for thirty-one weeks between 2021 and 2022. The duo began dating shortly after meeting in 2015 and married on June 11, 2017 in Mellark’s hometown of Boston, Massachusetts. They are parents to three adopted children: Aster Mellark (born 2019), Rye Mellark (born 2024), and Senna Mellark (born 2026). In September of 2028, Everdeen and Mellark released dates for their Everlark tour, their ninth world tour, with dates across Europe and East Asia.

Only when she was reading it through for the second time did she notice that she’d forgotten to delete the prankster’s last line. Katniss smiled. She highlighted it, and her finger hovered over the backspace key, but she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it.

And they lived happily ever after.

After all, who was she to argue with the truth?

So sorry I posted this early on Ao3 and FFN. I promise that I can count. Don’t take away my math degree.

#thg #everlark #everlark fanfic #that time we took over the world #mores2sl

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