#if this is rambly it's because it was mostly lifted straight from my fic planning doc

[hello-eeveev]

I imagine Essek had this moment of recognition with Astrid and Eadwulf while they were all in the Blooming Grove, similar to how Kima was like “sword lesbian recognize sword lesbian” with Yasha. They all looked at each other and went “neutral evil wizard with complicated feelings for Caleb and a weird relationship to their homeland recognize neutral evil wizard with complicated feelings for Caleb and a weird relationship to their homeland,” and they didn’t need to discuss it any further. Their relationship is not affectionate at all, but it is not hostile. It can’t even really be called professional. It’s just there, and it’s a relationship of few words, but enough understanding.

And Astrid. Astrid Beck, my most beloved. Her relationship with Caleb hurts, if she’s being honest. But so does her relationship with Eadwulf, even though it’s a different kind of hurt. She is just full of trauma and I don’t think there is anything in her life that isn’t filtered through it, so everything is just kinda painful.

But I imagine that after taking on the role of Archmage, Astrid feeds Essek just enough intel to steer clear of the Assembly's ire, but they don't talk at all beyond that. So like, they don't really know anything about each other, but they are still offering up a lot of trust. It creates this weird intimacy of knowing someone's greatest secrets (Astrid, about Essek) and having seen them at their lowest point (Essek, about Astrid) and sharing a weakness (both of them, for Caleb). But at the same time, there is a massive divide between them that, for a myriad of reasons, will never ever be bridged. They both know this, so they won't even try.

They do not have a relationship, but there is still so much to it, you feel me?

[gildedmuse]

Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

[mybiasisexo]

Oh, Brother

Genre: Angst | Fluff | College!au 

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Length: 7.5k

Warning: Unfinished | Language | Love Triangle (I know, but hear me out!!)

Summary: You’ve finally started college and are getting the full freshman year teen romcom experience and it’s not as great as you though it would be, but a certain ballerina (ballerino? I googled it and its ballerino in Italian [quote unquote] but in French they are a danseur and im rambling) might be the calmness you’ve been needing...that is until you meet his brother....

Author’s Note: I plan on turning this into a scenario??? Question marks cause idk if I want to turn it into a chaptered fic instead??? Anyways I wrote this back in like 2014 so its kinda dated but it is what it is yall. 

MASTERLIST

credit

With the arrival of the bell came the flood.

You got caught in it. Dragged into the depths of the sea that was the main hall. You grunted and fought against the current, as students barged their way past you, slamming roughly against your shoulders as you clutched onto your books for dear life.

It seemed never-ending, it actually felt like you were moving backwards as more and more people rushed, trying in vain to arrive to their next class on time.

You didn’t think that college would be like this.

You thought it would be peaceful and calm, like a pond or a small lake.

Not the damn sea during a hurricane.

It was probably because it was the first day, and everyone was still trying to catch their bearings. Or because this hall was seriously the most used and classes held up to two hundred people. Whatever the reason, you felt a sudden panic attack crawling up your throat like a corpse clawing out of the grave. You knew that very soon you would lose it, and so you began to count in your head to calm yourself down.

“I…2…3…4—” push “—5…6—” shove “—7…..8….9….”

Before you could lose your cool, you broke the surface and felt the cold wind snap deliciously against your damp face. You closed your eyes and sighed with relief as you realized that you had won.

You battled against the human sea and you beat it victoriously.

But could you deal with that every other day?

You shuddered as the thought hit you and decided to ignore it for the meantime. You had to admit, despite that near death journey you had just trekked, your first day as a college student wasn’t as bad as you—and your parents, not to mention your little sister—had imagined. Today was Monday, and on Mondays, you had three classes: English 1102, Math 1143, and Introduction to Art.

You had just left the math department and now had a couple hours to kill before your last class.

You decided to call your best friend, Suho, and see if he had escaped his side of campus.

“Hello?” He answered happily—did he have any other emotion?

“I nearly died just now. This hallway is lethal, I don’t know if I’ll make it.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it out alive. When does your next class start?”

“In two hours. Wanna get lunch?”

“Absolutely, I’m starving. Meet me at the Student Union building?”

“Okay, see you then.” You hung up and tried your hardest to recall just where exactly the Student Union building was located.

Nearly twenty minutes later, you stumbled upon the holy land. You found Suho almost immediately and rushed over to his table.

“What took you so long?” He wondered, munching on a fry.

You plopped down in the seat across from him and let out an exhausted breath, “I forgot how to get here. I had to backtrack like four different times.”

He sighed, “You could have called me, I would have helped you.”

“I’m aware,” you dismissed, stealing a fry from his tray. He frowned, but didn’t do anything to stop you from stealing another one.

“It’s the first day, and I’m already beat,” you muttered after you had returned to the table after leaving him briefly to buy a cold sandwich, a bag of salty chips, and a bottle of green tea.

“And it’s not even over yet,” Suho reminded you with a smile on his face.

“Can you not? I don’t want to think about that just yet.”

“At least it’s art. You can unwind in your last class. My last class is Physics, there is no unwinding in physics.”

“You’re smart, you can literally handle anything.”

He cocked his head to the side and studied you. Once he caught your attention, you stuck your tongue out at him and drained your drink, smacking your lips obnoxiously when you were done.

“it’s a wonder we’re even friends,” he mused aloud around his sandwich.

You shrugged, “you still have time to run.”

He grinned, not missing a beat, “I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

You held out your semi-empty plastic bottle, “I’ll drink to that.”

He chuckled and lifted his own soda can, your drinks clinking exotically together, confirming your status as best friends for life.

Which Suho was. The two of you had known each other since you were five. Your fathers were childhood friends that lost contact after college, but somehow—when the two of you were five—reunited and stuck to each other like glue. Even opening their own music store together. Kim Junmyeon, who was lovingly addressed as Suho, and you grew up at the music store, learning how to play different instruments as well as the ropes to owning a business, and the chemistry between your fathers ultimately rubbed off onto you, causing yet another family-like bond.

“You are taking piano, aren’t you?” You asked him a few minutes later.

His attitude shifted instantly as his smile faltered a tad. It was barely noticeable, but you could read this young man in front of you like a book.

“Junmyeon,” You said warningly, using his real name to show how serious you were.

He sighed, “I want to. I just… so much is already on my plate, and I didn’t want to burden my parents with another credit and…”

“And you just didn’t want to,” You finished for him. You lowered your voice, “I thought you liked music.”

“Of course I do, but that’s something our fathers love. Music is their dream, not ours.”

You pouted. He was right, even you weren’t taking any classes related to music, but you were still planning on practicing the viola on your own time. Music was in your blood, it was just as unavoidable as Suho. You didn’t know what life would be like without it, and quite frankly, you didn’t want a life without it.

Suho adored music more than you did. When his father first taught him how to play the piano, he had to be forcefully removed from the bench. There was nowhere else he would rather be, and as he grew, so did his talent. He was so talented, that he won many competitions, and even wrote compositions for many popular songs heard on the radio today.

He was a prodigy.

You? Well, you just liked to play. You were nowhere near as good as Suho, despite the many things he had told you, and you knew that and was fine with it. For you, it didn’t matter if you won or lost, as long as you got to play. You learned how to play the guitar, clarinet, drums, and even the piano, but nothing called to you like the viola. It was an extension of yourself, and Suho once said that when you played, people could tell you transported into a different realm. You were in your own little universe, and would only return once the piece was finished.

“It can be both, couldn’t it? You play so well…” You could tell Suho felt uncomfortable and would rather not discuss the matter anymore, so you just let your sentence carry. Instead, talking about everything else and nothing for the rest of your time together. “Well, my class is about to start in ten minutes. Luckily, I know where the art building is. I’ve only been going there since I was twelve.”

You tried to laugh, but got nothing out of Suho. His smile still plastered on his face, but his eyes dull as he pulled himself up and collected your trash, throwing it in the trashcan and following you out into the crisp fall air.

The art building was very hard to miss. It was one of the bigger buildings because the college you attended focused mostly on the arts, and was painted a bright blue, while every other building was a tan brick color.

“Paint me something nice, alright?” Suho said once you both stopped outside the doors of the building.

You rolled your eyes, “You know I suck at painting, Su, I’m more of a charcoal person.”

He shrugged, “I still want a painting. Charcoal is so boring.”

You smacked his shoulder, “go. Before I lose my temper.”

He laughed and held his arms up in surrender, “We wouldn’t want that now would we?”

He sauntered away and left you to stare up at the intimidating building. Hesitantly, you pried the glass door open and scuttled into the structure. Noise overwhelmed you. You could hear many people tuning their instruments, and the noise of a teacher counting and the soft thud of footsteps. If you listened harder, you could faintly make out people singing.

It was beautiful.

The cacophony of sound settled around you in a somewhat numbing hum, beckoning you to walk even deeper within the building. Almost all the doors were open and you peered into each one, loving everything that you saw. A chubby boy wailing away on his trombone. A lanky boy with a mop top and a short thick girl with glasses singing a duet. What appeared to be an African dance class. A trio practicing on their violins. A boy twirling about in an empty dance room.

You paused once you glanced inside the dance room. He was doing barrel turns across the room, and when he reached the end, he pirouetted for what seemed like a long time, stopping smoothly with one foot resting in back of him and his arms held out in the perfect stance.

He was breathing hard as he dropped his position and ran his fingers through his dark hair, dragging the strands away from his face, only for them to return. He must have felt your stare, because he suddenly swiveled his head to meet you eyes.

He was gorgeous, to put it simply. He had slightly tan skin and perfectly shaped almond brown eyes and a straight nose, and lips that seemed to be the center of his face. He looked almost ethereal as he attempted to catch his breath and sweat slid alluringly down his lean frame and his eyes remained on you.

“Lost?” He asked. His tone wasn’t mocking, simply curious.

His voice was just as lovely as his features. You shook your head, “Just looking around.”

He walked up to the mirror where a drawstring backpack laid, and pulled a small towel out of it, wrapping it around his neck, “class starts pretty soon, doesn’t it? You might be late,”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s so easy to get distracted in this building. There’s so much going on.”

“First day?” He asked with an understanding nod of his head.

You returned the nod with a rushed one of your own, “I’m in sensory overload at the moment.”

“Happens to all of us.”

He turned around and headed back to the corner of the room. You stared at his retreating frame for a moment and then decided it was time to leave. “See you around then.”

He turned his head so that you could see the outline of his nose and raised a hand, “see you.”

You had to forcefully remove yourself from the doorway, and practically run to your classroom, making it in with thirty seconds to spare.

~*~

After your last class was finished, you headed over to the dorms.

You still could not believe you were actually living on your own, away from your parents and sister. And as you stepped into your new home, you couldn’t help but grin.

It was small, but cozy. With a living room that held a couch, there was one bedroom that your roommate and you would be sharing and you got your own bathroom which was nice.

You noticed that your bedroom door was open and you could faintly make out a voice coming from within. It appeared your roommate was in. You hadn’t met her yet, and was nervous. Would you like her? Would she like you? You carefully tiptoed towards the door and paused in the threshold. She was singing under her breath and it was beautiful. The words did not sound very familiar to you, but her voice was so lovely, you found myself creating notes to accompany her with in you head.

Finally, you grew the courage to gently knock on the wall and peek your head in.

She was sitting at a white vanity she must had brought with her, and was clipping something into her jaw length black hair. She spun around quickly, startled.

Once you were facing each other, you carefully examined the other. She was gorgeous, but seemed a bit rebellious with her black lace clothing and scruffy boots. With the light from the window on her hair, you spotted green and blue highlights in it. Her eyes were covered in kohl and her lips were set in a hard line, but you noticed the tips curled slightly in a mischievous grin.

After your slight stare down, she held out her hand, “Park Sunyoung. But I go by Luna.”

You smiled and marched in to shake her hand and introduced yourself as well.

“Like what I’ve done with the place?” She smirked, spinning around to face the mirror again.

The room was placed in such a way that each half was your own. Her side was crowded. The white walls were covered with posters. You spotted both movies and boy and girl groups respectively. She had a purple fluffy mat on the wooden floor, and clothes were strung there and about. She also placed a flat screen television on a dresser that she pushed in the middle of a wall so that it was between your beds.

You glanced at your side, You had only put sheets on your bed, leaned your viola case against the wall, and tossed your suitcases on your bed. It was—and would still be once you finished unpacking—bare compared to hers.

You nodded your head, “you just moved in?”

She nodded her head also. “Bout to grab a bite to eat. Wanna come?”

You bit your lip. You wanted to unpack and maybe practice your instrument for a while, but the need to make friends overwhelmed you, especially a girlfriend. “Sure.”

You watched as Luna hopped off her chair and grabbed a black homburg hat before snatching your wrist and dragging you out of your room.

You entered the cafeteria five minutes later, the building was bustling with life and you couldn’t help but to search around, looking at your fellow schoolmates.

There were a bunch of different stores to choose from, and after watching Luna tap her chin while glaring at each station, you both finally decide on Chinese. You grabbed your plates and then Luna pulled out her phone, dialing a number before she pressed it to her ear.

“Yah! Where are you?” She laughed. Your eyes widened. You were not planning on meeting other people. “I can’t see you! Oh! By the taco station? Mmm… Okay, on my way.” She hung up and glanced at you, tilting her head in the direction she was heading before walking off. You quickly tried to match her pace. You arrived at a round table with seven chairs and two girls sitting there in comfortable silence.

“Hey!” Luna sang as she pulled a chair next to one of them, you quickly followed suite.

The girl next to Luna had brown hair that she had cut really short, a pixie cut. While the girl beside her had straight black hair that cascaded down her body. The one with the pixie cut was sporting a guy tank top and khakis while the one beside her was wearing a black and white stripped dress and blood red lipstick.

“Who’s the stranger?” The girl next to Luna asked, studying you.

“This is my roommate,” Luna beamed with pride and you smiled shyly as she introduced you. “This is my cousin Victoria and our friend, Amber.”

“Nice to meet you,” you greeted.

“Are you a freshman like Luna?” Amber asked, giving you her full attention.

You nodded, “what grade are you in?”

“We’re both juniors,” Victoria supplied, taking a giant bite of her food.

“So… how was your first day?” Amber asked Luna, who rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I guess. All I had were generals today. I can’t wait till my fun classes begin.”

“Are you, by any chance, in choir?” You asked.

She stared at you with wide eyes, “oh god, no! What makes you think that!?”

“Well,” you began nervously. “I heard you singing when I entered the room…”

“Oh~~” The three nodded.

“I do love singing,” Luna informed somewhat sheepishly. “I just…”

“She just doesn’t like to do things when told to do them.” A girl who just walked up to the table finished for Luna, pulling the chair next to Victoria out and unceremoniously plopping down. She was tall and skinny and had long blonde hair. Just like Luna, she was wearing dark clothes and makeup, her expression unimpressed.

Another girl who was the polar opposite took a seat beside her. She had reddish-brown hair that went down to her collarbones and was wearing a pink skirt and shirt and a genuine bright smile. She instantly reminded you of Suho.

“Shut up, Krystal,” Luna barked.

“Make me,” the Krystal girl retorted, sticking her tongue out.

“Choir is just so stuffy,” Luna defended herself. “You have to sing three octaves higher than you normally do, have to wear hideous outfits, and have to move your mouth like this,” she began to open and close her mouth in a way that resembled a fish. “It’s horrible.”

“Plus, she never goes to class, so she’d probably get dropped,” Krystal grinned wickedly at Luna.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?!” The two began to bicker, and you locked eyes with the bright girl next to Krystal who was looking at you.

“What is your name?” She asked. You told her and asked for hers in return. “I’m Sulli. Sorry about my friends. They tend to not have manners.”

“I heard that!” Krystal screeched and smacked Sulli’s shoulder, causing her to wince. She then turned her gaze to you. “I’m not that bad, really. I’m Krystal, by the way.”

You introduced yourself to her and she boldly held out her hand for you to shake. Her hand was very soft.

“Are you a freshman?” She asked and you nodded your head. “Cool. So are Sulli and me. Are you Luna’s roommate?”

“Yes she is, so can you stop asking so many questions?” Luna asked, exasperated.

Krystal shrugged, sniffing a cup of fruit, “just curious. I’m surprised you’d invite her along. I know how much you hate new people.”

“I don’t—”

“YES YOU DO!” The four interrupted Luna, causing the whole table to laugh.

“You all suck,” Luna pouted, but a smile tugged on her lips.

“Welcome to our crew,” Victoria said to me, holding up a bottle of apple juice. You lifted your own drink and you all chugged the liquid.

It tasted like a long friendship.

~*~

Back in your room, all unpacked and exhausted, you laid on your bed. Luna was taking her last class of the day, which was at eight, and she wasn’t very excited about that, so you had the place to yourself. You wanted to play your viola, but was so tired, you couldn’t budge.

Vibrating caught your attention and you groaned as you felt around for your phone. Once found, you answered it without bothering to check caller I.D.

“I take it you’ve already eaten?” Suho asked you from the other end.

You grinned, “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you aren’t harassing me about how you will die any second if you don’t get any food in you soon.”

You sighed, “You know me so well.”

“That’s why I hold the title of best friend.”

“Sorry. Are you hungry?”

“Kind of.”

“Did you just finish your last class?”

He was silent for a second, “no. I, uh, finished it a while ago.”

“Well why didn’t you call me then?”

“I was…distracted. Come down. I’m at your dorm.”

“But, Suho!”

“You shouldn’t have unpacked all at once. That’s your fault. Hurry!”

He hung up and you had no choice but to get your lazy butt up and head downstairs.

He was outside the building, leaning against the cool brick.

“What is the rush?” You asked once you spotted him.

“It’s the first week of school, there is so much we could do!”

“Like…?”

“Like visit the art building and watch people.”

Your eyes brightened and you hurriedly pushed Suho, he laughed at your eagerness and you headed over to your favorite building.

“I should have brought my instrument,” you pouted as the doors opened.

Suho shook his head and you entered the first room you found.

There were a couple kids acting in this one. You watched for a minute, but you both knew which rooms you wanted to really be at.

“Let’s just go to the music room,” You ordered. You started running down the familiar halls, eager to enter the one room you had been in over the years.

Suho continued walking, and you wondered if it was because he didn’t want to go to this room after all.

You entered the room and took a deep breath, smiling widely as you were surrounded by all the instruments. You were in the string room, and you bowed to the professor before heading over to decide which instrument to play.

There were a few kids there in a small circle with guitars on laps, so you picked up an acoustic guitar and joined them.

You quietly tuned your instrument as two of the other boys were playing off each other. The music was very bluesy and you nodded along as they continued.

All music stopped and you heard a few gasps. Suho must have entered. You turned to verify his presence and tried not to laugh at his awkward smile. He hated the attention. Anybody who considered themselves piano players knew who Suho was, and anybody in this area who was aware of music knew who he was as well. He was kind of a big deal.

“Please, continue,” Suho said, motioning for the two boys to play. They stared at him instead, either too nervous or starstruck. With a sigh, you held your guitar on your lap and began to play a song you had made up a few years ago. The people around the room blinked over at you, distracted from Suho, which you knew he was grateful. You felt him sit down beside you, but you ignored him and continued playing. Your fingers gliding confidently over the strings.

“You think she’s good at this,” You heard Suho say. “You should see her play the viola.”

You missed a note and lost your train of thought as laughter bubbled up your throat.

“Please stop, Suho,” you chuckled, finishing the song quickly. Once you were done, everyone in the room applauded and you bowed your thanks and Suho and you sat silently and listened to the others play for a while.

“Should we go now?” he whispered in your ear after about twenty minutes and you nodded. You both got up and bowed to everyone before heading out.

“That was nice,” you grinned up at your best friend, his hands in his pockets and his smile somewhat strained.

“Uh… yeah, nice…”

You laughed, “You hated every waking minute of it.”

“No!” He quickly defended. “I just… you know I hate it when people treat me like that.”

“Like a celebrity?”

He sighed, “I hate that word.”

“But, I mean, you kind of are a celebrity, Suho.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands, “don’t say that!”

You laughed again and dragged him out of the hall. On your way out, you passed the dance room, and you glanced into the empty room. You were somewhat disappointed to see how lifeless it was in there compared to earlier today….

~*~

Your first week went by smoothly. You hung out quite a bit with Luna and her friends and only got lost once. Suho and your schedules did not align very well, and you rarely got to see each other, which frustrated both of you, but you made time—as little as it was—to hang out at least once a day.

It was Monday again, and after a semi stressful weekend, you were looking forward to another week of college.

Your alarm went off and you chuckled as Luna groaned and tossed in her bed, “turn that off!”

She threw a pillow in your direction and you turned the alarm off,  and with a whispered ‘goodbye’ you left for your first class.

After your math class ended, and you had once again fought against the ten o’clock rush, you decided to head over to the art building early to goof off for a bit and kill time.

You found yourself pausing in front of that damned dance room again. The door was closed, but you could hear the faint thud of bass coming from the speakers within, and you just knew that man from last week was in there. After a bit of hesitation, you finally pried the door open.

He was there alright. Wearing cut offs and a black wife beater. He was stretching on the center of the floor, leaning against one leg as the music played on. When he lifted his upper body he noticed you, “you’re back.”

You couldn’t tell if he was happy or annoyed by the fact, but you smiled at him anyway, “I told you I’d see you later.”

He laughed once under his breath and shook his head faintly.

“Mind if I watch?”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.

You deflated, “or…not.”

As you began taking a step back he let out a breath, “no! Wait.”

You glanced at him expectantly and he sighed, “You can stay if you want.”

You beamed and came all the way into the room, closing the door solidly behind you. You sat against the mirror and pulled your legs up to your chin.

“It’s nothing much,” the beautiful boy began. “I’m just going to be doing some stretches and going over some routines….”

“That’s fine,” You encouraged and he paused before nodding his head self-consciously.  

After fifteen minutes of warming up, he began to dance. You knew he was not going full out, but even still he was captivating. He moved effortlessly, almost as if he were bored, and he made every move seem easy, although you knew it was anything but.

At one moment he attempted a leap, but couldn’t land right. He groaned with frustration, “I can’t get this jump right.”

You perked up, with him talking for the first time in thirty minutes. He was standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, eyeing himself in the mirror.

“I don’t even know why it is so difficult for me, but I just can’t get it. The teacher told me I was landing too hard but what does that even mean?”

You blinked at him and were silent for a moment. Finally you worked up the courage to speak, “may—maybe you can demonstrate it again? I’ll watch and see if I can spot the problem?”

His eyes flickered to yours questioningly, “you dance?”

“Uh… no, but I’m sure I’d notice if you weren’t landing right.”

He thought about it for a second, but must have seen there was no harm in it because he shrugged and started the music up again.

You watched him as he twirled around the room before going for the leap. He was flawless in the air, but once his foot came down, he was a stumbling mess. He had to hold his arms out to catch his balance and you figured out the problem.

“You’re not distributing your weight properly,” You informed him once he was at a standstill. “You put all your weight on the leg you’re landing on when you need to put it on both.”

“How do I go about doing that?” He asked, twirling the lid off of his water and chugging half the bottle.

“As soon as your foot touches the ground, stretch out your back leg and lift your arms higher.”

The dancer’s eyes wandered above him for a minute, probably imagining the actions he had to take, and then he put his water down and started the music again.

When it got to the troubling leap, you held your breath. He was up, up, up and then he came down. His foot touched the floor and he seemed to spring higher as he flexed his legs and raised his arms, not even wobbling.

“Perfect landing,” you breathed with a grin as he continued on with the choreography. You couldn’t help but to notice how dazzling his face looked graced with that triumphant smile that seemed nearly blinding.

He was now going all out, as if he were performing on a stage, and your heart was in your throat.

You had seen a lot of beautiful things. Watching your father play the trombone, watching Suho play the piano, listening to one of your friends, Yuri, sing, but this fellow in front of you took passion to another level.

Tears began to obstruct your vision as you watched him reach towards the heavens with every jump. Every flex of a muscle seemed to be a part of a story only he knew how to tell, but the story was magnificent and you could not look away.

It ended with him pirouetting before landing on one knee, an arm stretched towards you.

The music ended and the only thing that could be heard was his hard breathing.

“That… that was beautiful.” Beautiful could not cover base to how life altering watching him perform was. He was beyond that, he was something no word could yet define.

“Thank you,” he grinned and bowed humbly.

“No, I’m… I’m serious. I don’t think I have ever seen anything that passionate before in my entire life, and my father lives and breathes music. You are truly talented.”

You watched him bite his lip and scratch the back of his head before repeating, “thank you.”

“No, thank you,” That sounded so cheesy out loud, but you really wanted to thank him for showing you that. You wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes and laughed at yourself, “I swear I don’t usually cry watching people dance. Only if I’m moved enough.”

“I moved you?” He asked. You noticed the teasing tone in his voice, but also surprise, as if he didn’t believe he was that good.

“To tears,” You confirmed, holding your hands out to show him the salty wetness on them.

“Thank you,” he repeated yet again, and you blinked up at him.

“For what?”

“For helping me with that turn. Also for letting me know just how good I am. Sometimes you need other people besides those who are always telling you to realize your potential, you know?”

“Absolutely. I definitely understand. I remember when I was first learning how to play the viola, and my father was constantly telling me how good I was, but I felt like I wasn’t adequate. It took my best friend to finally make me realize that maybe I was worthy of the instrument.”

The sweaty ballerina just stared at you for a moment, and you grew embarrassed. Were you talking too much? You were definitely talking too much. This is why you only had two friends growing up.

“You can come watch me practice whenever you want,” he suddenly allowed. His smile grew at your shocked expression. “I realize now I enjoy the company, and you can probably help me on some things. So… whenever you want, if I’m here, don’t be shy.”

He said all of that without even glancing at you, but you could tell the sincerity in his voice. Plus, you found it endearing how he dug the ground with his toes.

It was your turn to repeat yourself, “thank you.”

~*~

You ran all the way to your dorm after art, eager to get this off your chest.

You felt kind of bad that Suho wasn’t the person you wanted to talk to about the matter, but this was strictly a girl thing, and you knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Luna!” You practically screeched when you finally slammed the door to your bedroom open, scaring the living daylights out of your roommate.

“Jesus!” she cried, throwing the magazine she was peacefully reading on her bed onto the floor. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“I’m in like,” You breathed, falling unto your bed with a longing sigh.

“In like?” she questioned.

“Yes. With a beautiful ballerina.”

“Ballerina?”

“It’s a guy,” you clarified, rising up to meet Luna’s gaze. She was grinning from ear to ear, leaning in closer.

“Well, spill it!”

You told her about the mystery dancer who just so happened to be drop dead gorgeous and wanted your company.

“Wow, that is so romantic! What is his name? Maybe I know him.”

“It’s…” Your smile melted off with the realization that you in fact had no name for the face you most definitely would be dreaming of later tonight.

“You don’t know?” Luna’s eyes widened and than she gasped, “that’s even more romantic! It’s like Cinderella! Does he know yours?”

You shook your head and she threw a pillow up in the air. It hit the ceiling before landing on the floor behind her, next to her long forgotten magazine. “Oh my god! The two of you are so mysterious! That is so hot.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. You’ve grown quite close to Luna this past week; she was someone you really needed in your life.

“You have to keep me posted on the development on your unfolding love story. And don’t forget who was there in the beginning when you have to pick a maid of honor for your wedding!”

“Oh, I will def keep you up to date.”

~*~

Sadly, there was nothing to report back to Luna.

Classes started to add pressure the rest of the week, and you were so swamped in schoolwork, that you had no time to eat a normal meal, let alone watch someone dance for a couple hours. you even had a test in art!

When Friday came around, all you wanted to do was relax, but Suho had other plans for you.

“Come on! We haven’t seen each other all week! I miss my bestie!”

“I miss you too, but I’m so tired,”  you complained, rolling around in your bed for affect.

“We are all tired, we’re college students.”

“Why can’t you hang out with your roommate? I’m sure he will keep you company.”

“He is hanging out with me. I’m trying to expose you to more people,” You could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“I don’t need more friends. You’re like five friends put together!”

“Please,” Suho whimpered, muttering your name softly. You tensed, knowing what he was doing. “We haven’t seen one another in five days and I just really need my best friend right now. Is that a crime? Is wanting to see you such a bad thing?”

He sighed when you remained silent, “fine. I won’t bother you anymore. Take your nap and be a loser for all your life, but don’t call me when you finally want to settle down, because I would have moved on with a new bestie by then.”

“Fine!” You cried, hopping off your bed. “Jesus, Suho! I’ll hang out with you, damn!”

He chuckled and you heard a muffled ‘works every time’ before he was back in your ear, “you have ten minutes. Dress really cute, we’re going somewhere fun. You better be waiting for us when we get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” You hung up before he could guilt you into doing something else you didn’t want to do and slumped over to your closet.

Suho’s definition of really cute was a scary concept, and it made you wonder where he was dragging you. He loved heels and thigh highs. You always joked and told him he was a subtle pervert, and he would reply by simply shrugging, tilting his head to get a good view of the girl he had his eye on at the time.

You groaned and yanked the clothes you knew he was already picturing in his head before getting ready.

Six minutes later, you were standing outside the dorms in a thin pink dress, black tights, chunky black heels, and a glare.

True to his word, Suho was in front of the dorms ten minutes after your call ended. He stepped out of the passenger side of a very expensive looking black car, dressed in dark jeans and a sky blue button down, and you knew that you were dressed accordingly.

His grin grew into a full-blown smile as he took you in, “you never disappoint.”

“Shut up, you perv,” You retaliated. He just laughed, continuing walking up to you. Once you were right in front of each other, he pulled you into a hug and you soon felt a tugging at your hair.

Suho pulled away with a satisfied grin, “you look prettier with your hair down.”

“What is this?” You snapped, as he ruffled your brown hair that he had released from the ponytail you had it in seconds ago. “Are you trying to hook me up with someone?”

“I might be, but I just want you to have fun tonight. You have to dress good to feel good.”

“I mean, I guess?” You let him drag you over to the car. He opened the backseat door for you and helped you get in before crawling back to the front. There were two males sitting to your left, both incredibly handsome and one behind the wheel.

Suho called you and you glanced at him, really nervous. You usually felt at ease around the opposite sex, but Suho made you dress up, and it made you self-conscious, especially since all the men in the car were good looking.

Not as fine as your little ballerina, you thought suddenly, and you felt your cheeks heat up. They definitely weren’t that pleasing to the eyes.

You blinked, quickly focusing back at Suho. He had his hand on the driver’s shoulder, “This is my roommate, Kris, and those two sitting next to you are Kim Jongdae and Do Kyungsoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, nodding towards them. They all nodded in return and you zoomed off to some unknown place.

“Jongdae and Kyungsoo are singers,” Suho informed as you continued driving. “And Kris here is an actor. They all have scholarships and are top of their classes.”

“Why must you talk us up like this?” The one furthest to the window whined. He had a cute voice and a cat like curve to his lips that you couldn’t help but stare at.

“It’s alright,” you began. “It’s in his nature. He’s like a proud father.”

“This girl right here,” he started, and you rolled your eyes. “Is one of the best viola players in the country, if not the continent! She also draws, plays other instruments, and sings.”

You shook your head rapidly, “please do not tell professional singers that I sing, Suho. That’s embarrassing.”

He simply shrugged, “how many times have you sung the lyrics to my compositions?”

“I’m not sure anymore, Suho,” you sighed, your gaze flickering to the singers beside you. They looked intrigued, and you wanted to shrink.

“Exactly, because it’s been too many times to count. If it had been up to me, I would have given you the songs to record. I write them for you anyway.”

“Gross,” you cried, kicking his seat. Sometimes he said things that made it seem as if you were closer than you actually were. It was a habit you were trying to get him out of.

It was around ten when Kris—who had been silent throughout the entire ride there—pulled into a karaoke bar.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath. Suho was toying with you the entire ride there, the bastard.

“What was that?” The smaller boy beside you, Kyungsoo, asked. His voice was deeper than you had thought it would be at first glance and his wide eyes and plump lips made him seem older than you would have originally thought, more mature.

“I should have known we would be singing,” you said a bit louder to him, although you pushed your knee deep into the back of Suho’s seat.

“And drinking,” the guy near the window, Jongdae, winked at you playfully and you sighed with both content and relief, because he was really cute and you really needed a drink.

“Good,” you breathed as you all headed out.

You followed the guys into the bar, and was led into probably the biggest room you had ever seen in one of these places. It was already filled with about six other people, both male and female.

You felt pressure on your arm and lips at your ear. “Don’t be afraid to make friends, and maybe even get a bit touchy if you want,” Suho winked at you and you grimaced. What was up with him today?

There were only two other girls in the room, and you quickly ran to sit beside them, introducing yourself quickly. They were Hyeri and Hyorin. There was a guy singing a Super Junior song, and he was really good. You just sat silently as everyone got comfortable. Jongdae soon appeared with around four huge bottles of liquor, while Kyungsoo scuttled behind him with shot glasses.

“Whose ready to turn up!” Jongdae’s high-pitched voice rang loudly over the commotion of the room, and everyone—including yourself—cheered. Jongdae and another boy who you weren’t acquainted with poured the shots, while Kyungsoo handed them out. You were the last one to receive a glass, and he sat beside you with a shy smile. You returned it and waited for one of the shorter boys in the room to give the toast speech, “to freshman! To the beginning of the rest of our lives!”

You all held your glasses up high before tilting your heads back and downing the liquid fire with grimaces and coughs.

Liquor made you friendly, to put it simply. It also made you extremely confident, yet also very uncoordinated. You took six more shots of the strongest stuff Jongdae had to offer, and before you knew it, you were singing a duet with one of the boys named Byun Baekhyun. It was an intense balled, and you acted the part, even pressing against each other, his arm around your waist while one of your hands were on his cheek as you both shared his microphone.

You gathered hoots and hollers and you just laughed and laughed when the song ended. He gave you a wink and carried you off the small platform, making you sit on his lap back on the couch.

“You’re fun,” He yelled into your ear, his voice deep enough for you to feel warm from the compliment.

“You give good speeches,” you replied, remembering him giving the toast earlier.

“You sing very well,” he countered.

“Well… you’re very handsome.”

His smile was a million watts.

~*~

(Another lil snippet that I haven’t even gotten to plot wise but I had a Vision™ and wrote it down before I forgot, to give you better insight on what I'm trying to do here haha)

“Jongin….”

“Oh no, silly girl, I’m not Jongin,” his eyes remained piercing into your soul as he pushed a chunk of your hair back behind your ear just to whisper, “I’m Kai.”

You blinked up at him, “who?”

“Kai,” he clarified. “Jongin’s twin brother.”

It was silent for a moment and then you burst out laughing, pushing his shoulder. He looked at you stunned, “stop playing, Jongin. What kind of joke is this?”

He raised an eyebrow, “It’s not a joke, plus, Jongin’s sense of humor wouldn’t allow him to play such a prank. Maybe when we were younger and used to switch classes for the day, but ever since college, all that boy’s focused on is the art.”

“The art?”

“Dancing.”

“Oh… oh!” Your eyes widened as you remembered asking Jongin about his hiphop routine. Your eyes flashed up to the Jongin in front of you, “you were the one doing the hiphop routine!”

He smirked and nodded boldly, “That I was.”

“Shit, you’re telling the truth.”

“Duh. I’m not a liar. But, it seems like Jongin might be…..”

[echoeternally]

Mini Gift

It’s @mrnerdling‘s birthday, and I wrote up a longer story for the day. However, I also wanted to write a small thing based on another suggested pairing! So, I did, and it’s sloppy, but I tried to cram it in within like...I dunno, four hours between research and writing.

Anyway, I know extremely little about Pokémon Unite, so it’s going to be rather choppy and probably have nothing to do with the game. (I didn’t even include evolutions because that hurt my brain to consider evolving back and forth, which I think they do in Digimon, but not Pokémon.) But, hey, it was worth a shot, and I experimented.

Just a cute fic to feature some ship teasing that he should enjoy. And I hope you do too!

...

Four trainers joined together at the Aeos Island team rooms. While they carried on discussing strategies for their upcoming practice, they sent out their current selected Pokémon, allowing them to gather together while their trainers continued planning.

 Lucario folded his arms and surveyed his team, noting his usual companions in Cinderace and Slowbro. He tilted his head at the appearance of Blissey, a newcomer to the team and the island overall.

 “Huh, first of our team newcomers.” Lucario nodded. “Welcome aboard, Blissey! My trainer is the team captain, so I try my best to reflect her efforts.”

 “Oh, thanks for the welcome!” Blissey bowed her head and smiled. “It’s going to be fun getting to join everyone.” She blinked and blankly stared at the group. “To be honest though, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

 “Me neither,” mumbled Slowbro.

 “But…you’re already on this team.”

 “…I am?”

 “Don’t worry, Slowbro’ll come to life in a little while.” Cinderace rubbed his nose and smirked to Blissey. “Name’s Cinderace, and I’m part of this team too. Our trainers tried to match the variety in roles among Pokémon for this island.” He pointed at the egg in Blissey’s hands. “You’re a healer, right?”

 “Normally, yes.”

 “Right, so there are a few different types of roles for each of us,” went over Lucario. “Since you have a focus on healing, that makes you our team’s new Support member. Slowbro can make strong blocks, so he’s our team Defender.” He pointed at Cinderace. “Since he’s fiery and likes to battle, Cinderace is our Attacker.” Lucario rubbed behind his head. “We’re supposed to have someone that’s quick around the field, who is the team Speedster. I suppose you’ll meet him later.” Lucario shrugged. “As someone that tries to cover multiple roles in one, I do my best to be the All-Around type on our team.”

 “Wow.” Blissey brightly smiled. “This already sounds complicated. I love it!”

 “It takes a bit, but you’ll get into it after a few rounds,” offered Cinderace. “Since we’re just practicing today, though, I don’t imagine it’ll be too rough on you.” He stretched and winked to her. “Basically, we just need to worry about scoring more points than the other team, and that’s the idea of the game.”

 “Each role helps determine how well we perform,” brought up Lucario. “So, with that, we’ll let the rest get resolved on the field.”

 “Ooh, my trainer is calling me over that way,” pointed out Blissey. “What do we do by the benches?”

 “…Wait for your turn to practice, I guess,” determined Cinderace, glancing at Lucario who shrugged.

 “Neat!” Blissey wandered off from the group. “I still don’t get any of this!”

 “Well, waiting won’t help much,” mumbled Cinderace. “…Huh. Hey, Slowbro, they’re calling you over too.”

 “…Who?”

 “Your trainer, knucklehead.”

 “Oh, ok.” Slowbro blinked and then slowly waddled down the same direction that Blissey had gone in.

 “Guess they want to focus on offensive plays first,” suggested Cinderace. “If those two are sitting on the sidelines, that means it’s you, me, and whoever the newbie is when they get jump in.”

 “That makes sense, since we’ll need to learn covering the field.” Lucario tapped on his chin and nodded. “Ok, so, practices today are mostly relying on us getting Aeos Energy to score points. If we’re doing some offense training to start, that’s the main goal to focus on.”

 “Are we just going on the field as is?”

 “Yep, going right into it.”

 “Huh, should be fun.” Cinderace grinned and lifted a thumb up to Lucario. “Want to see who can score the most points between us two? New guy will probably figure it out and join in.”

 “We do need to work on strategies too.”

 “Where’s the fun if we’re only working and not bringing out the best of each other?” Cinderace slid closer to Lucario, patting his head and nudging him. “Come on, huh? Let’s have some fun with this!”

 “Well…it is technically part of our exercises, tallying high scores—”

 “Aha, knew you’d see it my way!”

 “Just don’t get too carried away,” requested Lucario. He frowned and looked over as Blissey tried talking with Slowbro, who vacantly stared off around the meeting room. “Last time, you knocked Slowbro too hard on the head, and now he seems like he’s back to basics.” Lucario lowered his eyes as he watched Slowbro drool, while Blissey chattered on. “…Or worse, actually.”

 “Coach, you’re thinking way too hard.”

 “Don’t call me that.”

 “Why not? You basically are!” Cinderace jogged in place, getting his feet warmed up. “Going to roll some heads on the field and get the highest scores like you wouldn’t believe!”

 “Do you ever turn over the competitor in you?”

 “Nope!”

 “Well, that does help us.” Lucario shrugged and smiled. “Come on, let’s get ourselves ready.”

 “You’re so cute when you’ve got a big work ethic going,” teased Cinderace, leaning over Lucario’s head.

 “Get off.”

 “Make me.”

 After chasing his teammate to the practice field, Lucario lined up with Cinderace at the starting gate. Their trainers readied their supply of Aeos Island balls, ready to capture the wild Pokémon that their partners battled against. The two trainers were joined by a third, who hurriedly sent their choice to the field as they set the practice timer.

 However, the purple gates opened, and Lucario raced off alongside Cinderace.

 “Try to keep up, Luca!”

 “Don’t call me that either!”

 Laughing, Cinderace hurried up the northern route, while Lucario traveled down the southern side. Kicking streams of fire and sliding past his opponents, Cinderace swept at the wild Aipom and Audino. His trainer from the sidelines collected Aeos Energy from the capture.

 “Nice and easy,” cheered Cinderace. “They better get that Speedster straight to work to catch up with me!”

 “Might as well, you’re right!”

 Blinking and halting from the new voice, Cinderace turned around as a yellow blur rushed past him. A loud clap rang out, as lightning bolts danced through the air and zapped at the wild Pokémon nearby.

 The striker rabbit watched as the blur raced around, snatching more Aeos Energy before running for a hoop. Jumping up, the thunderclap cat slammed in a ball of energy, scoring points for the corresponding trainer.

 Setting down, Cinderace gawked as the cat beamed to him.

 “Hey there, sorry for the interruption introduction,” called the newcomer. “I’m Zeraora, and I’m your team’s latest Speedster!” He swiped below his nose. “Heard that we’re having a little contest of our own, so I hope you don’t mind me joining in.”

 Slowly nodding, Cinderace looked the yellow cat up and down, impressed at just the sight alone. Watching him run around once again, Cinderace flailed around, trying to attack the wild Pokémon to score more energy.

 However, Zeraora’s speed helped him collect bits of energy from the ground and take down emerging Pokémon faster than Cinderace could keep up with.

 Knocking enough energy into the goal, Zeraora grinned as it faded, and spun around to Cinderace, winking to him.

 “Check it out! We scored a load of points on this one.” He waved. “Come on, cutie, let’s see if you can keep up!”

 “Wow, I think this is how I sound to Lucario,” mumbled the flushed face Cinderace. “…Why doesn’t he like me even more?”

 Both rushed to the next goal, knocking more energy into it. Lucario had chased an evasive Audino over, and was able to help his trainer capture them for Aeos Energy. Once that was done, however, Lucario gawked as Zeraora raced past him, jumping up and slamming more energy into the nearby goal.

 “Wait, what?” Lucario fumbled back and stared up at the cat hanging from the hoop. “Are you the new speedster?”

 “Nice, you’re the team captain!” Zeraora grinned. “They told me you’d be handsome, and they weren’t kidding!” He dropped down and ran for the next wild Pokémon. “Come on, little guy! Let’s see if you can keep up with me!”

 “…He’s like Cinderace, but worse,” muttered Lucario as he blushed.

 As they continued scoring points, practice time ticked away and ran out. Checking over the final scores, Lucario gawked at how high Zeraora’s score was, in spite his late start. Cinderace had scored the lowest, which was quite unusual for him. Turning for the rabbit, Lucario raised an eyebrow, as Cinderace shrugged and gazed back to Zeraora, beaming from his results.

 “Ha, check it out!” Zeraora placed a hand on his hip. “Didn’t think I’d score so high, but you guys made competing pretty fun. I think we’ll make a strong combination!” He winked to his teammates and wandered toward the exit. “I wonder who else is on this team? I think they were both pink…”

 “Well…at least he’s fast,” decided Lucario.

 “He’s amazing, and I have to know more,” rambled off Cinderace.

 “Look in the mirror.”

 “He’s even better than me!”

 “That’s not what I—”

 “Best newbie ever!” Cinderace hurried after him. “Hey, Zera! Tell me more about yourself! Like, everything!”

 Rolling his eyes, Lucario slapped a paw over his head and dragged it down. Sighing, he followed his teammates out from the first practice field, looking to join them for the next session.

 Though Zeraora enjoyed chatting with Cinderace, he would steal glances to Lucario and grin to him, making the captain blush.

 This was certainly going to be a new dynamic for them.

...

Whoosh, there it is!

Yeah, I did my best while hurrying it along. This wasn’t the original gift idea, but I wanted to include both ideas sent to me.

Since I normally write like medieval Pokémon, or otherwise normal stuff where they battle and such, I decided to try following another game, and went with one that all three leads appear in, which was the latest game.

Even though I’ve never touched it, so maybe that wasn’t the best idea, but oh well! That’s what research is for. (Also, there’s other stuff that I didn’t get to touch on about Unite, but alas.)

If I had more time, I’d probably write more, but this is it for this one. Hope you enjoyed the quick bit!

[thesoundofnat]

I should tell you

Finn/Poe, Rey

Summary: Finn tries to tell Rey that he and Poe are together, but they keep getting interrupted (sometimes by Finn’s own incapability of outright saying it).

A/N: Bitches hear one line in the new Star Wars movie and takes it out of context and bases a whole fic around it. It’s me, I’m bitches. No spoilers for The Rise of Skywalker. This takes place before it. Finn was so much fun to write, I hope you like this!

Words: 2 086

“Rey, I need to tell you something.”

Finn didn’t have time to say a single thing, though, as a blaster was suddenly pointed straight at them and nearly hitting Finn in the shoulder. He ducked, screaming as he did, and Rey pointed her own weapon at the Stormtroopers. Truly not the best time, but Finn had suddenly had a moment of revelation and wanted to bare his whole soul. He didn’t have time for it now.

“Can it wait?” Rey asked, shooting and shooting and oh god would they ever do anything else again but shoot various weapons and run for their lives?

“Sure,” he said, voice higher, hands shaking ever so slightly as he raised his own blaster. Yeah, it could wait. Maybe a lifetime, since Finn found his courage sinking as much as his heart as the Stormtroopers kept coming and coming.

Rey was suddenly running, and would you look at that, Finn was running behind her, both of them shouting as they kept shooting. Sand in his fucking shoe. So much sand on this godforsaken planet. Did anyone even need this much sand?

“Finn!” Rey screamed, and oh, he was kneeling, his leg suddenly in so much pain, and Rey had lost her blaster on the way and was using the force to boomerang the incoming ships into the mountains. Finn didn’t catch the rest, because Poe was there, lifting him up, almost carrying him away, and Finn tried to say his name, tried to say Rey’s name, but it really fucking hurt being shot in the leg and all he could managed was a strangled cry that he would deny later. Not that anyone would hold it against him, but still.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Poe was saying, rambling, almost going into panic mode, and usually Finn would try to calm him down but he was feeling quite panicked himself if he had to be honest.

They entered the ship, Rey behind them, screaming at Chewie to go go go, and they were up, or so Finn assumed because he sort of lost track of things after that.

Later, much later, he woke up feeling groggy but whole. A throbbing thigh but nothing worse. Whatever they had done, it had worked.

“Thank Rey,” Poe said, his fingers around Finn’s, but when Finn looked around Rey wasn’t there.

“What did she do?” he asked, his voice hoarse, throat screaming for water.

Poe shrugged. “She used the force.”

*

“I need to tell you something.”

This planet was greener and richer in every way, but Finn was a bit sick of slapping bugs from his arms. They were laying low, all of them fixing up ships and making plans and biding their time, but Finn could tell Rey was one second away from hopping into a ship herself and leaving. He found himself watching her, watching Poe, knowing they were probably watching him and each other. War made people reckless once they realized they’d lost enough, and Rey was like wildfire.

But she was also Finn’s friend, and sometimes he just wanted to have a regular conversation.

“The thing you tried to tell me before?” she asked, turning to smile at him, always smiling at him.

“Yes.” He sat down beside her on the fallen branch, his leg almost better than before. “Before we got so rudely interrupted.”

She laughed. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“Hopefully I won’t get shot this time. Thank you again, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it, really.” She bumped their shoulders together, and Finn could tell she was exhausted.

“When was the last time you slept?”

Visibly caught off guard, Rey fumbled. “Uh-”

“If it’s longer than 20 hours I’m sending you to bed right now.”

“Didn’t you have something to tell me?”

“It can wait.” Maybe he was still biding time.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her thighs. “Is it bad?”

“No.” Quite the opposite.

“Then tell me so that I can go to bed happy.”

“It’s… well, it’s quite silly. I should’ve just told you ages ago, but now it feels weird since I’ve waited so long.”

Rey didn’t say anything, merely looked at him, face blank, neither pushing or assuming. Finn felt like throwing up anyway.

“Uh, well,” he started, looking away, as far away as he could without turning his back on her. “It’s… You know how I- Or maybe you don’t. Why should you?”

“Know what?” A gentle push now, to steer him in the right direction.

“Right. So. You know Poe?”

“I do know Poe, yes.” Her smile when he turned back to her made him start laughing almost hysterically, and he found he couldn’t stop.

“What?” She was whining now, begging, demanding, laughing, her hand grabbing Finn’s arm and pulling and shaking and slapping, but Finn couldn’t calm down enough to say another word.

“Geez, what did you give him?”

He recognized Poe’s voice, which didn’t make things better whatsoever.

“Nothing!” Rey said, audibly not minding him laughing but too curious to leave him be. “He was trying to tell me something and then started laughing.”

Finn had to stand, turning to face him and doubling over in the process. It wasn’t even fucking funny.

“I think it’s a nervous reaction,” Rey continued and Poe was nodding, grinning, but had Finn been calmer he would’ve seen something akin to understanding behind his eyes.

But Finn had to literally wander away from them before he could calm himself. So much for a normal conversation.

“I didn’t know you were a giggler when you were nervous,” Poe said that evening, and Finn laughed in response, though he had to admit he was all laughed out for a bit. “I mean, you giggle a lot around me, but I thought it was because I was so handsome.”

Finn rolled his eyes, but he let Poe lean his chin on his shoulder. “I didn’t know either, but to be fair I tried to talk about you.”

“You finally gonna tell her?”

“It’s been too long as it is.”

“She’ll just be happy for you, you know. For us.”

“I know but-” Finn cut himself off with a sigh. “I’ve built it up so much now, and each time I try to tell her something goes wrong.”

“You want me to tell her?”

“No. It should come from me.”

Poe hummed, his fingertips skimming the nape of Finn’s neck, making him shiver. “You should just say it. No prelude.”

“I want it to be a conversation.”

“I see.”

“Is that silly?”

“No.” Poe pressed his lips to his neck. “I think it’s endearing.”

*

“I need to-” Finn stopped in his tracks, remembering Poe’s advice about just saying it, but Rey was already looking at him. An eyebrow raised, so visibly amused.

“Tell me something?”

Finn deflated. “Yes.”

She laughed. “Sit.”

He did, the chair of the Falcon comfy and big and the perfect spot for a conversation. He shouldn’t have been nervous.

But he was. Oh, he was.

“The thing is,” he started. “I’m-”

“Incapable of making conversation?” she said when he didn’t continue, her smile soft. “Go on.”

“I don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“Give me a hint? Maybe I can guess.”

And then something exploded and the whole fight and flight thing resumed. Finn was so tired.

*

Finn didn’t understand how Rey hadn’t figured it out. He often found himself acting like a total fool around Poe, but he couldn’t stop.

“Don’t go,” he was begging now, holding Poe’s wrist and refusing to let him to get out of bed and leave him cold and alone.

“I have to,” he said, but he didn’t twist his hand out of Finn’s wrist or tickle him into letting go like he could - and oftentimes would - do. Instead he remained sitting, one foot dangling off the bed while the other was tucked beneath him. Half turned away from him, but Finn had his own face partly buried in a pillow so it didn’t matter. He was holding onto Poe’s hand for dear life.

Sort of.

He whined, knowing he’d done similar things in public when Poe had done something he hadn’t liked, mostly leave him, and Rey had to know, she had to know what this meant, but he couldn’t just assume.

Poe was laughing, turning to fully face him now, his free hand on Finn’s back, and Finn hummed contentedly, smiling despite himself when Poe leaned down to kiss him, and Rey had to fucking know if one ounce of attention from Poe made him melt despite their surroundings.

“Do I-” Not love. Too early to talk about love. “Do I enjoy you visibly?”

Poe’s turn to cackle like a maniac now. “What was that?”

“I mean,” Finn tried to explain, feeling himself flush. “Is my… affection for you visible?”

“It is to me.”

“How?”

“In the little ways.”

“Enough for others to see?”

“If they’re looking, though I think it’s clear we don’t hate each other or anything.”

Finn huffed out a laugh. “You’re too pretty to hate.”

“I knew you were just with me for my looks.”

“And because you fly me places.”

“At least I contain multitudes.”

“Oh, many.”

“Talk to her,” Poe said, changing the subject so suddenly that Finn forgot to complain when he slipped his hand out of his grip and stood. “You’re stressing yourself out for nothing.”

Well, he needed a hobby.

He sighed. “I’ll go find her.”

Poe was, unfortunately, getting dressed. “Try practicing your speech on others maybe.”

“You think that will work?”

“Yes.”

So Finn was suddenly on a mission to tell everyone else before he told Rey, because that was the logical solution to this tongue twisting trouble, right?

He’d truly die before telling her, he was calling it.

*

BB-8 lowkey knew, but Finn wanted to tell it anyway. Just to practice. Just to make sure. 

Maybe to stall.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, feeling a twinge of nerves when the droid turned to look at him. “I need to tell you something.”

No prelude, he heard Poe say. Next time, honey, sorry, honey.

“I’m with Poe,” he blurted. “I mean, not right now. He’s not here. I mean.”

He could’ve sworn BB-8 tilted its head to the side.

“I like him. As a man. Wait, what?”

He heard Poe laughing hysterically behind him, having come up to them without Finn hearing. “I’m not sure BB-8 gets what you mean.”

Finn turned to pout at him. “This is hard.”

“It’s not. Just say we’re together.”

“Together.”

“Yes.”

“We’re together.”

“See?” Poe poked his ribs. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Finn shoved him lightly. “I can’t help it.”

Poe wrapped his arms around him, unusually affectionate while in public. Finn didn’t mind. Truly would never mind. Maybe they could stay like this until everyone knew, with Poe’s lips pressed to Finn’s jaw, eyelashes almost tangled.

BB-8 made a sound, and Poe laughed into Finn’s skin. “Yes, buddy. I do like him.”

Another beep.

“Of course you knew. I don’t think I’ve been good at keeping it a secret.”

“I didn’t know,” Finn mumbled. “Not at first.”

“I don’t think I fully knew at first either, to be fair.”

“Looks cozy.”

So used to being subtle, Finn nearly jumped out of Poe’s embrace as they turned to look at Rey, but Poe kept him in place.

“It is,” he said, one hand rubbing Finn’s back, soothing him. “Wanna join?”

“I’m good.” Her voice was normal, but her face softer than Finn had ever seen it. “I don’t like being a third wheel.”

Poe laughed. “That’s fair.”

And just like that, she knew. So simple. So easy and so free of judgement. Finn didn’t know why he’d been terrified.

“Is this what you’ve been trying to tell me?” she asked when Poe finally released him.

Finn deflated. “Yes. It’s been a living nightmare.”

“Why?”

“We kept getting interrupted! And I’m not the best with words, apparently.”

She reached out to squeeze his hand. “It’s okay. I like you anyway.”

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

“Or me,” Poe said from Rey’s other side, the two of them trapping her in their arms.

She was laughing. “I said I didn’t want to be a third wheel!”

“I’m clearly the third wheel here,” Poe said, and Finn reached across Rey to swat at him. “I don’t mind, though.”

BB-8 beeped, wanting in. Even if Finn had wanted to say no he didn’t have the heart to.

[amillionmillionvoices]

Do you have any techniques you find incredibly useful in creating good characterization?

Ooh excellent question! I’d say the two things I pay the most attention to for characterization are dialogue and motivation. 

Dialogue can be really tough, because I think the gut instinct in writing is to make the characters speak the way “normal people” talk in every day life. But in writing, that’s rarely the right way to go, because people are borrinnnnnggg lol. People also use a TON of filters, everything from “ums” to circular conversation, and that can be really distracting or uninteresting in a story/fic. (Take a show like The West Wing, or even something like Schitt’s Creek, for example. The dialogue is witty and clever, and that’s not to say people can’t be witty or clever but it’s not usually done in the same way or with the same precision and regularity. Like, I’m lucky if in a conversation I get ONE good one-liner off lol). But no one wants to listen to characters have this convo: 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“Not much, how are you?” 

“Pretty good. How was your weekend?” 

“Eh, it was fine. Didn’t do anything.” 

“Me neither.” 

 Like don’t get me wrong, this is a perfectly great convo to have IRL! But on screen/in a fic/story, unless that conversation is pushing you somewhere, it’s just lead up to the ACTUAL conversation the characters want to have. 

People on TV usually get right to the point, but they also do that in unique ways. So another big thing I pay attention to is HOW people say things. What dialogue do they repeat, and in what circumstances do they repeat those words or phrases? What are their dialogue “quirks”? Are they short and terse? Long winded? Do they interrupt other people, or interrupt themselves? Do they give too much detail, or not enough? Are they reassuring in a crisis, or too distracted? etc. 

Eleven, for example, is prone to ridiculousness, long-winded and self-interrupted phrases, asides, as well as a kind of lyricism, or poetic interjections. Take this dialogue, from Night and the Doctor: 

River: Where are we going?

Eleven: Calderon Beta — boring planet of the chip shops — but there is a 400ft tree growing out of a cliff-top on the north side of a mountain in the middle of the sea. And if you take the lift to the top and look up, at exactly 12 minutes past midnight on the 21st of September, 2360, you can see more stars in one sky that at any other moment in the history of the universe. It's like daylight, only magic. You could read a book by it. 

So, we’ve got

- Asides: “boring, planet of the chip shops”  - Rambling/too much detail: “400ft tree, north side, middle of the sea, 12 minutes past, etc etc.”  - Poetics: ‘it’s like daylight, only magic’ - Ridiculous: ‘you could read a book by it.’ 

Thirteen, on the other hand, isn’t nearly as poetic. She’s more to the point, doesn’t give away a lot of herself, and isn’t quite as quick to try to comfort or reassure (12 is similar, at least in the beginning; he changes a bit with Bill). Thirteen tries, I think, but she’s also socially awkward in a different way than Eleven is, and that comes out in her dialogue - Eleven doesn’t know he’s awkward. Thirteen is very aware - so they behave differently and speak differently. 

Example: 

DOCTOR: This is where I leave you. NOOR: Answer me one question. The fascists, do they win? DOCTOR: Never. Not while there's people like you. (She touches Noor's temple.) DOCTOR: It's all right. I'm just removing me from your mind. (She catches Noor and lays her on the bed.) DOCTOR: Bonne chance.

(Skyfall, pt 2) 

VS

CLARA: Stop it. You're scaring her. DOCTOR: Good. She should be scared. She's sacrificing herself. She should know what that means. Do you know what it means, Merry? MERRY: A god chose me. DOCTOR: It's not a god. It'll feed on your soul, but that doesn't make it a god. It is a vampire, and you don't need to give yourself to it. Hey, do you mind if I tell you a story? One you might not have heard. All the elements in your body were forged many, many millions of years ago, in the heart of a far away star that exploded and died. That explosion scattered those elements across the desolations of deep space. After so, so many millions of years, these elements came together to form new stars and new planets. And on and on it went. The elements came together and burst apart, forming shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings. Until eventually, they came together to make you. You are unique in the universe. There is only one Merry Gejelh. And there will never be another. Getting rid of that existence isn't a sacrifice. It is a waste. MERRY: So, if I don't, then everyone else DOCTOR: Will be fine. MERRY: How? DOCTOR: There's always a way. MERRY: You promise? DOCTOR: Cross my hearts.

(Rings of Akhatan) 

So I mean, obviously there are things to consider, like the point in the episode the dialogue occurs in, what else is happening/still needs to happen plot wise, etc. but these two reassurances are INCREDIBLY different. Yes, one is said to a child, but both of these people are ostensibly asking, “Does good prevail? Does my sacrifice matter?” And these are the two totally different responses they get. 

I can talk about dialogue forever but I’m gonna move on now to the other thing, which is motivation. Why are they doing what they’re doing? Why are they saying what they’re saying? It’s not always obvious. 

Again, with the Doctor, 9/10 the motivation on the surface is PROTECT EVERYONE. But why?? Guilt? Compassion? God-complex? Fear? Self-righteousness? Usually it’s a combination of both selfish and altruistic traits that lead characters to do things (at least the “good guys”) so knowing why they’re doing the things they’re doing in the canon, as well as in the fic, I find to be really helpful.  

In fic, it’s figuring out what their motivation is in YOUR STORY! Which is the best part!! and the most frustrating part!!!! But also super important. 

So i’m just gonna use my own fic as an example: this is from my 13/river fic, just the dialogue: 

“Why me?”

“What?”

“You have plenty of friends, some more scrupulous than others. You obviously don’t want to be here, so why me?”

What makes you think I don’t want to be here?”

“You left me for dead. I assumed that meant your obligation had finally ended.”

“Obligation? You’re the only one I trust to get him out alive.”

“So it’s about him. Your new family.”

“River, please—“

“I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ve been there every time you’ve asked.”

“So this is quid pro quo?”

“No, it’s not—I just meant—"

“Because considering I gave up my life for you, multiple times, in fact, you have a lot of nerve asking me for anything.”

This particular fic is from 13′s POV, so we see some of her motivation in the narration - she’s terrified of losing River again, she’s confused about what’s going on, she wants to make things right, etc. But she’s also incredibly driven by FEAR in this scene. Fear that River really will walk out on her; fear that she deserves it; fear that she’s not going to say the right thing; fear that she WILL say the right thing, and things will change, etc. But mostly, she’s afraid that whatever she’s done this time is irreparable. That’s part of the reason why she doesn’t REALLY ask. She repeats River - “What makes you think I don’t want to be here”  “Obligation?” - rather than straight up asking, “Why are you angry?” She changes the subject back to Ryan - “you’re the only one I trust” and doesn’t quite manage to say what she WANTS to say. She tries guilting River, because she knows her well enough to think it’ll work. 

MEANWHILE, we don’t get River’s POV, but even still, she has to have motivations of her own in order for the dialogue to work. So for me, while I was writing this, I was thinking, “what does she want?” And she, of course, wants the Doctor to ASK HER. Wants her wife to straight up say, “What did I do, how do i fix it, I’m so glad you’re back, I love you” and those aren’t things she’s getting from 13, which leads to conflict in the scene. Whoo! 

But River is also at a point where she’s had 2 years post-Library where she’s been in a lot of pain, alone, thinking her spouse doesn’t love her, so she’s angrier than we usually get to see her on the show, which means that she’s in a situation where she can be a bit harsher than usual - BUT, that harshness doesn’t come from nowhere. (See, for example, AGMGTW or TATM). But I didn’t want to take it too far, you know? Because River still LOVES the Doctor very much, and doesn’t WANT to hurt her - she just wants to be loved in return, in a 

ALSO, I already knew at this point in writing it that River had a lot of baggage the reader didn’t know about yet, so that also has to factor into the dialogue and characterization. 

TLDR; I try to pay really close attention to the WAY characters speak as well as what they say AND I try to always know what they really want and how they plan to get it. 

[Edit:] I realized I forgot to clarify this, but for the record, dialects are NOT dialogue quirks. And I don’t mean quirk as I’m something strange, I mean something unique to a character (for example, my friend often answers a complaint with the line, teasingly, “Sounds like a personal problem.”) That’s a quirk in her dialogue. I DO NOT mean accents, regional dialects, communicating in a second language, or culturally based idioms.

[ ask me a question about fic or writing! ] 

[ladymelissaduthe]

Challenge #1

Alternately Titled: To be a Princess

I actually don’t have wifi right now, but hopefully data can come through for now. I’l probably reupload this with the gdoc format soon hehe 

I actually wanted to post Missy’s RP with Jackson which happens the night before all of this, but I’m not too happy with it right now so SJKNJKDNDK yeah here is the reaction fic for now + the first meeting RP,,, cause it’s technically late... I’M SORRY BSDJKDNKJD Mentions of @safiya-schreave and @felicity-graham HAHAHAHA and features the first meeting with @arin-schreave hehe, thank you guys for some spicy material to work with <3 (2341 words,,, I think)

When I was a little girl, I learned that to be a princess was to have a thousand pairs of shoes. Shoulders back and tummy in, lift the chin and slowly turn your head from side to side.

I would personally like to thank Barbie for being the role model I didn’t think I’d need on a day like today.

Sure, Barbie had Julian, (The superior Ken from a Barbie movie if you asked me), but today, we had a real life princess give us a crash course on… royal life amongst us. It was like Barbie: Princess and the Popstar more than the Princess and the Pauper really. She walked in, and well, it felt like the chatter in the room quieted down once she came in. Princess Safiya.

She seemed nice when she came in, clipboard an all—ah well doesn’t that sight remind me of days I’d be instructing relatives around a rehearsal dinner. She begins to read from a script attached to the clipboard.

“I hope you all had a restful first night in the palace because now our work begins. Today I will begin to instruct you on conduct and protocol, a process that will continue for the duration of your stay. Please know that I will be reporting any missteps on your part to the royal family.” An amused expression ghosts her features before she continues. “I know it sounds harsh, but this isn’t a game to be taken lightly. Someone in this room will be the next princess of Illéa. It is no small task. You must endeavor to elevate yourselves, no matter your previous station. You will become ladies from the ground up. And this very morning, you will receive your first lesson.”

Hm… fair. I nod from my spot in the room, ready as ever to learn. I mean, how hard could it be? The sound of the door opening catches my attention, was another girl late?

Oh… OH.

Well I’ll be damned, that was Felicity Graham.

I thought she was taller.

I focus my attention back to what the princess was saying, only seeing Felicity move through the corner of my eyes until she came right back into my line of sight when she walks over to where Safiya stood, the two seemingly having a hushed conversation the no one probably an ear away could hear. I lift a shoulder up, busying myself and turning my attention to around the room. Guess they needed their privacy.

The set up was simple around here, simple at a glance but most probably high quality and very expensive. The room was mostly decorated like it was straight out of a home décor issue on an old money family. The elongated room was complemented with high-rise curtains tied with golden chords, tables were laid with cloths that were definitely a multi-count. There were centerpiece bouquets at the center of every table: dahlias and veronicas, if I wasn’t mistaken, the accent cloths were pinned to the sides with a lighter tulle? No, more of a sheath with gold weaved into it.

A few months, I decorated a wedding in a location similar to this, a sort of hall in an old building back in Orleans for the governor’s daughter. Except, maybe this has twice the budget…. Or maybe five times the budget. I wonder what was happening with the princess right now?

Oh they’re still talking. Why does the princess give Felicity a look? You know, one of those scary looking faces you shoot at a girl when you both see the same dress on sale and it’s the last one in-stock.

I try to wrack my brain up for anything I knew about them, figuring out why Felicity would be here. Those two were best friends, I know, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in the same room with the girl(s) my ex was replacing me with. Well, ya know, that’s just me. I just needed a refresher on which glass was for water and which one for juice.

“My sister sent someone to replace her. Lucky for us.”

The princess doesn’t seem too happy. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like for your best friend to be your brother’s ex-fiancée. That whole… situation was a big question for the entire country. My circles of other wedding planners whispered reasons why it was called off. Interesting allegations really. Oh their poor wedding planners, they better had a cancellation clause.

“Table manners are very important, and before you can eat in front of the royal family, you must be aware of certain etiquette. The faster we get through this little lesson, the sooner you get to have your breakfasts, so faces forward, please.”

The princess continues onto basic table manners, easy things that my Grammy used to grill me for back when I was little girl. Then again, there was a time when she used to be a Debutante ‘round Midston and her habits never left her.

“If you follow this one, I’ll be disappointed.” Oh so I guess we were allowed to speak with our inside voices. That’s… convenient. I nod along, hearing a snort from Felicity. The princess makes a face before continuing.

“She wanted me to make a final addition about how to address me and the rest of my family.” I should be paying attention to this one. The whole addressing royalty was definitely a new thing to me. The princess proceeds to explain who we call what, all the formalities and whatnot before we’re asked to stand and start with a crash course on curtsies.

“Now, I suppose you’ll be practicing your curtsies. I’ll be walking around if you have any questions. Or to critique.”

A good piece advice my mama gave me rings in my head, Imagine that a string is attached to the top of your head and pulling ya up. Maybe it’ll help me right now. It was something she always told brides during wedding rehearsals so they looked like they just glided down the aisle. I straighten up, imagining a string on the top of my head.

“and don’t forget I’m here to help you.” I hear Felicity say.

Wow, was she really?  

let’s just insert a timeskip here

It took a bit of a while before it was my turn to meet the prince. Not too long, but I suppose the buffet breakfast was a nice consolation. It was lovely that there were some vegan options. I was careful not to eat anything that could have stained the lovely lilac dress that took me literally forever to pick last night.

I was led outside of the room right after I finished some sliced fruits, careful that my lipstick wasn’t ruined from the meal. Someone opened the door for me as I was led into the room.

Alrighty, here we go, Missy. It’s just like meeting a new client. Winning smile, spring in your step, genuine interest. You practiced a couple of questions with yourself last night. It’s just a boy. It’s just a boy. You could do this. Just, try to impress him. No pressure.

There was a sofa, and beside it stood the prince. Oh, he seemed shorter in pictures. I walk towards him, reminding myself to keep my smile on and recall that I needed to dip down in a quick curtsey.

“Hello Lady Melissa. Please have a seat.” The prince greets before motioning to the sofa.

“Good morning, Prince Arin.” I glance over to the sofa before taking a seat, keeping my smile. “Thank you.”

He sits beside me. Up close, the first thing I notice was that his hair looked nice. Was that shallow? I mean… hair care and personal grooming was a good sign, right?

“How is your morning going?”

Compared to last night, I was in a much better mood, but of course I still felt tense. The cameras around wasn’t helping.

“Nothing short of spectacular.” I reply, recalling the answer I practiced in my head. Sometimes, it helps to practice answers. Oh wow, I really was nervous about this, wasn’t I? Shoot. “Woke up, never though I’d see such a great view of the ocean from my room, but there it was,” without knowing it my hands go up, “the sky was orange and glowing.”

I look to him, the memory of the sunrise bringing a genuine smile to my face. “How about you? How has your morning been going?”

“My morning has been fine, thank you.” He smiles at me. “Which province are you from?”

“Proud to be representing Midston. I bet you kind of had a hunch from the accent, but Orleans to be more specific, home to Mardi Gras and the best looking French Quarter in Illéa.”

The prince shakes his head, “Sorry, I honestly hadn’t noticed. But how do you like Angeles so far? It must be different from Midston.” His eyes trail elsewhere. Maybe towards the cameras?

“Well one thing I noticed was that… the buildings here are pretty tall.” I lift a shoulder up. “Don’t see that often where I’m from.” I chuckle before I look to where he looked, and realize that it indeed was a camera he glanced at a couple of seconds ago.

Don’t fix your hair, don’t fix your hair. My hand reaches up to tuck literally nothing back into place. Shoot. Don’t fix yourself around cameras, much less the prince, MISSY.

“It’s just as hot here though,” I add while fanning myself with my hand, “but I don’t know if that’s the weather or I’m just really nervous.”

“Nervous about which part?” the prince seems to watch me, still trying to maintain his smile.

I try to stop fidgeting, letting out a deep breath. “Not might be the same for you but I think meeting a prince for the first time would make you feel the slightest bit of jitters.” An unintentional laugh escapes me, and I try to smile. “Sorry, is it a little too much?”

The prince seems to shake his head, “No, uh… I’m mostly used to it.” He seems to pause for a moment before speaking up. “What do you do in Orleans?”

Without thinking, “Weddings.” I instantly say, “I mean, I plan weddings and debuts.” I start to ramble, “Catering, decorations, invitation, whatever a client wants for their special day, I can make it happen.”

He blows out a breath and nods, “Ah, I see. And how is…” he seems to hesitate at the next word, “wedding planning?”

Someone please, slap me.

Oh dear, it must still be a sensitive topic for him.

I try to give him a comforting smile, “It’s quite lovely, I don’t think I’ve experienced something as magical as someone’s wedding day. I’m just happy to help make the magic happen.” I’m reminded of my conversation with Jackson in the kitchen last night. The happiest business… he called it.

I blink, ah yes… way to rub some salt into a wound. QUICK. Find a way to salvage this. “Debuts are just as fun too. Just as much cake and magic.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He seems to shift slightly, “So you enjoy it?”

“Very much.” I reply. He still seems weirded out by it. QUICK. Change the topic. “Are you… a party person, your highness? Or a little more of a party of one kind of person?”

Prince Arin tilts his head, “I’ve enjoyed parties and sometimes I like to be alone. But honestly I don’t mind the chaos.” He then frowns. Why would he be frowning? Is he… one of those extra-introvert types? What did they call those people again? Eh, the only thing I really knew about those kinds of people was that they had a social battery or something like that.

“I think there’s always something to celebrate,” I bobble my head, “but we’ve all got a battery that can only take up so much uh… chaos. Nothing too different.”

He seems to blink in surprise, “That’s a different way of looking at things. It seems like you have a pretty high tolerance.”

Well, that’s one way to put it. I’ve always just been a really social type.

“I believe it’s all about perspective.” I smile, recalling another piece of advice my Grammy always told me. “Just gotta choose how you wanna perceive things instead of accepting them the way you first saw it. I mean, that’s what my Grammy’s always reminded me.”

“So move on with your life?” The prince looks at me curiously.

If only moving on was easy as saying that you were moving on.

“You make moving on sound bad.” I chuckle, recalling how… bad it really could be. “See it more of moving forward. Someone used to tell me , ‘Forward to a tomorrow, completely different from yesterday’. ” I glance to the prince. “I’m still figuring out that last piece of advice out though.”

I don’t know why I still quoted that. Quoted him of all people, but good advice… was good advice.

“And who was that?” Prince Arin asks, I catch him tilting his head to the side, “That sounds like something my mother would say.”

The answer seems to be stuck in my throat, I pause before saying, “That’s a story for another day, your highness.” I try to change the topic. “Your mother sounds very wise though. Are you two very close?”

“We are,” he nods before glancing at his watch. “But I can tell you more about that another day.” Touché, a chuckle escapes me.

Prince Arin stands, “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you this morning, Lady Melissa. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.”

“Missy, you can call me Missy.” I follow and stand up, dipping into another curtsy. “Have a nice day ahead of you, your Highness.” I give him one last smile, seeing him nod and take it as my cue to turn and leave.

Someone please tell me that was a good first impression.

[laughingpinecone]

Trick or Treat 2020 letter!

I am laughingpineapple on AO3  

Hello dear author! I hope you’ll have fun with our match. Feel free to draw from general or fandom-specific likes, past letters, and/or follow your heart.

All requests are art or fic - for art, the stuff I like is the kind that depicts the characters doing something. I’ll always be happier with a very simple drawing of two characters walking together or sharing a cup of coffee than with an ambitious composition that looks like an Avengers poster. I also enjoy seeing them wear different clothes, getting a feel of what their fashion sense is like beyond their canon outfit(s).

Likes: worldbuilding, slice of life (especially if the event the fic focuses on is made up but canon-specific), missing moments, 5+1 and similar formats, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, physical intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, casefic, surrealism, magical realism, established relationships, future fic, hurt/comfort or just comfort from the ample canon hurt, throwing characters into non-canon environments, banter, functional relationships between dysfunctional individuals, unexplained mysteries, bittersweet moods, journal/epistolary fic, dreams and memories and identities, canon-adjacent tropey plots, outsider POV, UST, resolved UST, exploration of secondary bits of canon, leaning on the uniqueness of the canon setting/mood, found families, characters reuniting after a long and/or harrowing time, friends-to-lovers, road trips, maps, mutual pining, cuddling, wintry moods, the feeling of flannel and other fabrics, ridiculous concepts played straight, sensory details, sickfic, places being haunted, people being haunted, the mystery of the woods, small hopes in bleak worlds, electricity, places that don’t quite add up, mismatched memories, caves and deep places, distant city lights at night, emphasis on non-human traits of non-human characters (gen-wise, but also a hearty yes xeno for applicable ships), emphasis on inhuman traits of characters who were human once and have sort of shed it all behind

Cool with: any tense, any pov, any rating, plotty, not plotty, IF, nerdy canon references, unrequested characters popping up.

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents are okay!), canon retellings, consent issues

Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles: Hurdy

I love the game’s world and all the little stories and legends that fill it. Great atmosphere, great lore, so if you feel like getting a little worldbuildy and indulging in the scenery and its story, please do! A focus on the sense of camaraderie in a caravan would also be great (like people could do on Gamecube.....). Hurdy’s a bit of an odd duck for that theme, but maybe he hitched a ride at some point? With whom? Amidatty or De Nam maybe, among the nominated characters? I love the whole cast so anyone goes. Do they travel together enough for them to cotton onto the weirdness of the whole Gurdy situation? Got any run-in with Lady Mio? Or what’s his status after the miasma is lifted, can he go back to Tipa, can he/they begin to heal? What does healing even look like for him and Gurdy?

Ghost Trick: Cabanela

You know.. him. Dazzlingly OTT, untiring, rock-solid self-esteem, loyal to a fault, following a rhythm of his own, flawless intuition until it fails and it all burns down... him. I just want to see more of him doing stuff! The way he’s chill and open toward new people (like Sissel and Missile in ch15) makes him perfect to throw at most other characters and see how they react to the sparkles... I’d love some focus on how ridiculous his aesthetic is, half Saturday Night Fever half hardboiled detective half bubbly preteen (for a total of 150%) and yet he makes it work. Or how ruthless he can be, possibly for the sake of the people he cares for. The quote “The intimacy of big parties”. Him and Alma in the new timeline bonding over knowing (once Jowd has spilled the beans) but not remembering that terrible timeline. Some tropey scenario on the job. Snark-offs with Pigeon Man, by which I mean PM snarks and it bounces off him like water off a spotless white goose’s back. Dreaming Sissel but he’s strange... and wrong?

Ship-wise it’s only Cabanela/Jowd whenever it’s not infidelity, Cabanela/Alma in what-ifs and Cabanela/Alma/Jowd for me (and Lynne/Memry and Yomiel/fianSissel on the side). There are a bunch of shippy prompts in all my past letters - I would however reiterate here that Jowd. is. the worst tease. always.

Conversely, Cabanela/Lynne and Cabanela/Yomiel are NOTPs especially from Cabanela’s side. So while I appreciate the thick tension of a good Yomiel VS Cabanela confrontation like everyone and their cat, and also really appreciate a roughed-up Cabanela, and I do love Yomiel in his own right... I don’t want Cabanela being into it. Adrenaline junkie he may be but this hurts and his coat’s a mess and there’s no perfect winning scenario so he hates every second of it. (JOWD being into it is another matter altogether and he should probably mind his own business)

Kentucky Route Zero: Carrington, Cate

Act after act, intermission after intermission, I somehow didn’t see the arts rising to such a dominant theme in KRZ and it’s stuck with me since the ending finally hit. It’s great and moving. So! Who better than good ol’ antler man to linger in those feels! Carrington’s playwright adventures or Carrington&anyone you fancy, either way I’d listen to him ramble for a week and I would like to know more about his big dramatic plans. Or maybe him helping someone, more or less accidentally, by offering his unique takes? Overriding my “no canon retellings” DNW for a hot second, did he ever figure out what was going down in the Death of the Hired Man (or Nap of the Hired Man as the case may be) interlude?

For Cate, I’m mostly interested in two things: life on the river and mushrooms. Maybe both! The Echo river ecosystem is intensely fascinating to me as opposed to life on the surface and life on the Zero, and yet all these environments are permeable. So what’s a moment in her daily life that encapsulates the river? Someone they picked up on the Mammoth, a strange island that popped up at some point? Cate&Will bonding extremely welcome, I’m love Will. And then there’s the mushroom hunting. I don’t know much about mushrooms, but I do know that they’re cool. Cate seems to agree, so if you’ve got a story or pic in you about her and them mushrooms, I’d love to see it.

Pyre: Volfred Sandalwood

This is a Volfred solo, Volfred&literally anyone or Volfred/Tariq, /Oralech or /Tariq/Oralech request. If &Manley or &Brighton, I am not interested in more lenient takes on their characters than canon’s. fwiw I also enjoy Jodi/Celeste and Bertrude/Pamitha a lot!

I feel deeply for all of Pyre’s main themes - literacy, degrees of freedom, the fragile time that is the end of a historical cycle, nobodies rising up to the occasion, building a better society, and of course found family, “distance cannot separate our spirits” and all that jazz, and Volfred is squarely rooted at the center of all of them. Just please tell me things about my fave. His relationship to the Scribes (as a historian, a some kind of vision, via *ae or once he’s a star himself)? A ‘forced vacay’ Downside ending where he looks at the Union from afar and keeps living in this strange transformational place? Life in a cramped Blackwagon that was meant for like 5 people tops and is currently eight Nightwings, a herald and an orb? Since he picked him for the job to begin with, does he respect and cherish Hedwyn as he dang well should? What does it feel like to try and Read a herald? Was he ever in danger, in the Commonwealth or in the Downside? Does he puff up as prime minister because he’s nervous, and who can see past his hyper-professionalism and lend a hand? Please roast him big time about the votes he assigns to the various Nightwings in his planner? What’s his attitude toward the flame’s purification (what with being a tree but mostly like, as a general concept. He did nothing wrong!) (well he definitely said some things wrong and sometimes oftentimes the ego jumps out, but his intentions did nothing wrong)? When did his calculating approach fail him? Something with Pamitha along the lines of that edit that goes “Can we talk, one ten to another?"/"I am an eleven, my girl, but continue."? btw that ‘emphatically yes xeno’ from my general likes is only applicable here I guess so: emphatically yes xeno to both shippy interactions at all ratings and to gen explorations of what a Sap is like...

Shenmue: Qiu Hsu, Xianzi Bei

Cormorants... kung fu... cormorant kung fu. They turned out to be my faves in a very likeable cast and I’d love to see either or both of them slice-of-life-ing it up in Niaowu, or anywhere up or down the river. The rest of the cast is welcome to join! Did Ren end up at Liu He Hall for whatever reason, or did Shenhua chat up a cormorant, as she does? Id love to see a spookier mood too! Ghost story time in Liu Jiao shrine maybe?

The Silver Case: Catherine, Kodai Sumio, Kuroyanagi Shinko, Kusabi Tetsugorou, Macalister Edo, Morishima Tokio

I‘m all for the surrealism, big things being introduced and never picked up again, Rashomon’ing it up with six explanations for the same thing where no single one can be true, people dying and then popping up again like nbd...  maybe the thing I like the most is characters transcending their humanity and looming over the dystopian world like ominous avatars. Correctness’ first ending had me swooning, that kind of mood is unparalleled. I have played TSC, FSR and 25W so far and have vague memories of K7. I’m aware of the “everything’s connected” readings but that’s not my main interest in these games. Mainly I see Lospass as a real island but also a metaphysical  place of transformation first and foremost, where strange things happen that don’t make sense elsewhere, but I’m good with anything that works for your story! There are a few & prompts for these fine folks in my Press Start letter [here].

For Catherine, I’d love to see something along the lines of her YAMI appearance, on Lospass on her own or hanging out with another character of your choice (or Tokio again). Sumio leaves me at a loss for words... if you’ve played 25W, maybe an expansion of his [intense ethereal whooshing] moment? He’s a gust away from vanishing from existence altogether... &Sakura and/or &/Tetsu if you want. Or his time in prison or a return to Lospass or whatever’s going on with that one, really. For Shinko I’m itching for different team-ups! Throw her at anyone you like and see what happens! FSR-era Tetsu could be cool, or off-the-grid Tetsu, or Tetsu&anyone... as for Edo, I’d be curious to see his pov on anyone and anything! WAS the Flower Sun and Rain the friends we met along the way? And Tokio... oh Tokio. Something about older Tokio and his gaggle of tulpas (Slash and whatshisface from YUKI who looks suspiciously like YAMI Tokio himself?)? Any...thing...about any part of his life from Lifecut onwards? Any portentous encounters?

[thevoidable]

Small excerpts from my upcoming krbk fics

Aight, I’ve made a decision.

I have several Kiribaku fics (mostly AUs) that I’m working on, but my motivation has been on the down-low lately due to things going on in my personal life. SO, what I’m going to do is reveal a few small excerpts from each of them, and I’d be super grateful if y’all can take the time to quickly read them and let me know if you want me to finish them. 

Any amount of hype for even just one of them will really boost my desire to get them written as well as see which ones are more anticipated, so please don’t be shy! I love hearing what people think! [FYI, a majority of the following will be from the first chapter of each fic. Also, none of these are posted on AO3 yet; they’re all WIPs.] Hands of Smoke and Fire (Fantasy AU, longfic) ‘The darkness snaked on for what felt like an eternity, but soon threads of a gentle, silver glow slithered into view, and Katsuki charged straight into a lakebed of moonlight. Dirt flew into the air as he skidded to a halt in front of stark silhouettes that towered over him and swayed in the cool breeze, the moon itself just barely peeking over the top to give the light that Katsuki needed.  Having just come from the spire where the roaring flames had warmed the surrounding rock, his skin prickled with goosebumps from the night air’s chilly touch, and he wasn’t sure if it was a welcome change.  He shivered, but it was a small price to pay for what lay ahead. Katsuki looked back and caught sight of the rest of the kids finally catching up, their eyebrows furrowed in exhaustion and their mouths open with heaving breaths.  Katsuki wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so disappointed looking at them before.  “Are you serious?” he scolded.  “You’re out of breath from just that short of a run?  Are you Barbarians or not?!” “You’re way…faster than us…” panted a boy who was currently resting his weight on his knees and looked like he was about to throw up. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that you should be that weak no matter what speed you’re going!  If something chases you, you’re on your own.”  Katsuki huffed, and he turned back in the direction of the forest, peering into its depths for any sign of movement.  He saw nothing, and pushed back that slightest hint of relief.  “Ugh, whatever.  Catch your breath and then start walking.  You’d better not slow me down, got it?  You’re such a bunch of losers.” Blocking out the kids’ mumbled groans, Katsuki paced towards the edge of the forest and peeked down into the grass.�� Crickets and a few other insects he couldn’t name dotted the ground here and there, and then vanished just as quickly as he’d seen them as they fled from his invading feet.  Many twigs and branches lay broken and mangled in front of him; he absentmindedly picked up a decently-sized one and swished it around in the air, enjoying the slight buzzing sound it left in its wake. However, a stick could only keep him entertained for so long.  Too fed up with waiting for the others to regain some energy, he stomped back over to them and gave the stick a good thwack on the ground.  He grinned at the way they yelped and jumped to attention.  It was the same tactic his mom often used. “I’m not waiting around anymore.  Get up and follow me,” he barked, not giving them a chance to reply as he began to march directly into the underbrush.  With luck, they’d been startled into alertness, because they obviously weren’t paying attention prior.  Katsuki wasn’t denying that the hunting grounds were dangerous; it was actually the reason he even wanted to go in the first place.  So if these losers had their guards down, it wouldn’t be his fault if something snuck up on them while they had their damn heads in the clouds. They quickly followed into step with him, not wanting to be left behind.  It’d be funny to see that, though.  To watch them panic in the darkness alone. “So, where are we going?” one asked.  He was looking over both his shoulders constantly as they passed each tree – yeah, Katsuki’s stick trick had definitely snapped him to his senses. “Wherever I want,” Katsuki replied, and while it was true that the idiots were here just to follow him, being out in the wilderness made him think a little on his own words.  Out here, there were no rules or restrictions, no leaders or dictators.  It was simply the quiet in the air, the crisp breeze slipping through each rustling leaf, the moon as their guiding light.  He certainly could go wherever he wanted, and do whatever he wanted.  Out here, he was his own leader, regardless of whether he had followers or not.  This feeling…  It stretched a smile across his face, lifted his head high, made him tread forward with that much more confidence.  It was a feeling he couldn’t put a name to, but he liked it.  It flooded his whole body, rushed to his head, pushed and shoved at his feet and begged him to keep going.  Suddenly, the feeling was all around him, calling to him; it was out there and he wanted to find it.  Badly. Out here, he had something he wanted to run to. So he ran.‘

--- Kiss of the Sea (Pirate + Merman AU, longfic) ‘At first, he wasn’t even aware he was awake. The weightlessness enveloped him like a bubble, suspending him in what he assumed was a dream-like state. Everything was quiet, save for the low hum in his ears of something slow shifting around him. But then he felt the feather-touches of...something...against his skin, twisting and moving and wrapping itself around his torso, but never squeezing. Something was underneath him as well, though it remained still, holding him in place...wherever he was. So, wait, where was wherever, exactly? Oh, right, he had eyes. He should probably open them. Before he even had time to focus on something solid, the amount of blue in front of him was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It was comforting, actually. The colour was relaxing, calm enough that it almost made him want to close his eyes again, but the thing underneath him was itchy and uncomfortable. Part of it was in front of his face, forcing him to go cross-eyed to see it. He could grab it with his hands and push himself up a little, and it was then that he could make out the brownish colour and criss-cross pattern - rope? Yeah, it was definitely rope. Okay, so that was two things figured out… Kind of. Twisting to look behind him, he wanted to address whatever was brushing against his body. The white folds of the shirt he was apparently wearing were unmistakable, and it was loose and just gently waving about in the current. It was kind of bothering, to be honest. Well, off with that, then. The rope gave him little space to move around, so removing the shirt wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but once it was off he shoved it through one of the holes and watched it float as if suspended by some invisible string.  But, now that he thought about it, he wanted to be out there too - not really floating like the shirt, but...the endless expanse of blue below him beckoned him, and it got darker the further down it went. Up here, in the open and the light, he felt exposed, too close to...well, he wasn’t sure what he felt too close to. But something stirred deep in the back of his mind, whispering to him that he wasn’t supposed to be here.  He tried shifting about again, trying to survey his surroundings some more. He could see blue for as far as his eyes could see, but he couldn’t swim out to it; he was stuck here.  Wait. The rope. It surrounded him on all sides, almost clinging to him, and no amount of moving seemed to open up any points of exit. This was a net. And he was caught in it.’ ---

Initiating Sentience (Futuristic Robot AU, longfic) ‘At first there’s blackness.  A consistent void of nothing sits in front of him while he waits for the tiny flickers of red static to turn blue, giving him access to the motors in his eyes.  He can hear something though.  Voices.  Some kind of clicking he doesn’t recognize.  Footsteps.  Clanking metal.  More voices.  Pings sounding on and on in his head, alerting him that something isn’t right, that he’s not doing what he’s supposed to, that he’s being damaged, he’s screaming, crying out, needs to get away, needs to get back to-! His eyes open. 

The pixels in his vision slowly shrink down until a grey floor comes into focus beneath his face.  A yellow alert box also materializes in the corner; his breathing system is overworking itself and needs to slow down.  He feels his whole body pulsing with energy – he should be able to move now. Blinking a few times to check his eyelids are moving fluidly, he moves his hands into view and pushes himself up to sit.  There’s a slight tingle in his right shoulder, something had hit him – oh, there’s a metal table next to him.  Then…did he fall?  He recognizes nothing else in front of him…  This is all new, shouldn’t he know where he is?  This isn’t the first time he’s been activated, so why- >MEMORY FILES CORRUPTED “Oi, Metal-for-Brains, I’m over here.” His hearing sensors detect the voice coming from behind him, and he’s almost startled into falling back over.  He turns around nonetheless, and he looks up to see a human standing over him with his arms crossed, and his expression doesn’t look happy. >INITIATING FACIAL RECOGNITION >SCANNING: >FACE NOT RECOGNIZED >FACE STORED INTO DATA BANK >NO PERSONAL INFORMATION AVAILABLE’ ---

Glass Box (Canon-verse, oneshot) ‘The incoherent rambling of Deku’s muttering was just as annoying as the ticking of a clock in an empty room, echoing a repetitive tune like a drum beat with no song, constant and so monotonous that it would drive anyone stir crazy from the desperation of trying to stop it being committed it to memory – and it was that very reason that Katsuki hated the seating plan from day one of U.A.  He wasn’t just hearing Deku from across the room anymore, no; his voice was hovering right behind his ears like a fucking mosquito that wouldn’t leave him alone no matter how many times he tried to ignore the high-pitched buzzing. It was damn-near making him ready to snap. He didn’t even need to turn around to know that the little moron had his nose buried in his notebook, eyes staring so hard at the pages like he could burn holes through them.  And all the while he was tapping his pencil on the desk in rhythm to the bullshit he was spewing out of his mouth.  Every time Katsuki tried to think, to create even just one small space of solace for his thoughts to gather, Deku’s ever-present cacophony came barraging in like roadworks right outside his damn house. He could grip at the edges of his desk all he wanted, grip them until he broke his fucking knuckles, but he wouldn’t be able to shut the little nerd up without getting shit from Mr. Aizawa. Because Deku was muttering about their newest assignment. Which Katsuki also thought was bullshit, by the way – how the hell was this even supposed to help them become better heroes?  “Cultivation of Inspiration” his ass. “Of course, feel free to be as creative as you like with this.  There’s no right or wrong way to go about it.” “Then that could mean that anything goes and we won’t necessarily be graded on the subject so long as we present it well enough to-” At this point he was only half-listening to his teacher explain the basics, because the more he tried to focus on just Aizawa’s voice, the more it blended in with the hospital bed fucker behind him and he could no longer tell which were actual instructions and which was a useless cockroach he needed to crush beneath his foot.  He wasn’t even sure if Mr. Aizawa had gone over why they were doing this.  Only more reason to kick Deku’s ass for distracting him later. “However, due to the free-form nature of this assignment, your photographs will be looked over before you present them in front of the class to avoid any upset from students who may end up in them.” Katsuki felt the entire energy and gaze of the room shift to a couple seats behind him. “When you’ve finished thinking it over and you’re ready to start taking photos, head to Power Loader’s workshop.  You’ll find all the cameras stored in there.  Now, use up the rest of this time to brainstorm ideas.  I want to sleep.”’

---

Where the Sky Meets the Sea (Half-bird AU, longfic) ‘His scuffed-up boots kicked up loose stones and pebbles as they shimmied towards the craggy rock face, toes bravely peeking over the edge to meet the swirling grey below as the debris fell within and vanished not a second later, never to be seen again. The air was cold and unforgiving, whistling and howling its monotonous song that slapped at his exposed skin like an ice-covered whip. Surging up with weighted chains came the ever-familiar sensation that wrapped completely around him and yanked, fighting to tip his body and pull him down. It sank through his skin, bled into his veins, ate away at his very core, and he loved every second of it. He let the anticipation fuel his adrenaline as a fire spread out at his sides, wind licking the bright orange tips to make them sway and ripple with excitement. This thrill that swallowed him whole hadn’t changed since the first time he stood here as a child, when his wings were no bigger than himself and the breeze barely lifted his feathers. So now, with sculpted muscles hidden beneath downy layers of black and confidence built from years’ worth of training and endurance, letting the ground tilt beneath his feet was as easy as breathing - the forces around him had no need to fight or beg. Slowly he felt his blood stop dead in its tracks as his weight ceased to exist for a fleeting moment, and then in a single rush he couldn’t have felt heavier. The cold, the wind, the emptiness below - he tucked his wings in close in preparation to pierce it with just his body alone. He plummeted.  And there wasn’t a gale in existence that could wipe the wild grin from Katsuki’s face.’

--- Aaaaand there you have it! Those are all the previews I have for now - again, please let me know which ones you want to see most! Thank you!

[thenovelartist]

For @lnc2 who always wants more Ladrien and who also thinks Marinette would be the first to propose. For the life of me, that proposal has been lingering in my head all day, so I combined those two things and it can be her happy fic to kick of 2019.

Adrien felt like he could drop dead. All he wanted to do was sleep for the next two days.

After he got Plagg all the cheese he desired so that Adrien was free to do so.

He got to his door, swinging it open

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

And was instantly revitalized.

He smiled, feeling the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders as he stared at the vision in red laying on his bed. He dropped his bag over by the cheese cabinet so Plagg could have at it, and then walked over to the bed. “Hey there, beautiful.”

“Do I get a hello kiss?”

With his grin ever-widening and his heart gaining speed, he crawled onto the bed right beside her. She flashed him a growing grin that made her eyes twinkle before lazily looping her arms over his neck. His hands ended up on either side of her shoulders, allowing him to hover halfway over her. “As though you even have to ask.”

She giggled right before he captured her lips with his. They’ve had a surprising amount of practice considering they’ve been together the better part of two years. Adrien had never more thankful for a freak thunderstorm in all his life, one that had sent his lady running for shelter, which had just happened to be his home. They had watched a film with popcorn that Adrien had sneaked into his room, and he somehow had found the courage to invite her back again.

That happened three times before she had confessed that she liked him. A lot. And his own confession came spilling out shortly after.

What happened after that was a very serious heart-to-heart about how they would work. After all, he was Adrien Agreste: famous model and son of famous fashion designer, and she was Ladybug: beloved superheroine to Paris. If the news caught wind of them, it would end in nothing but a nightmare for both of them.

“Then we just won’t get caught,” he had said.

And that’s how picnics under the night sky or dates hidden away in the safety of Adrien’s room or a quick kissing session in secluded corners became a thing. Being with her… it was the best feeling in the world. Because with Ladybug, it wasn’t “Adrien Agreste and Ladybug” or a “supermodel and superhero”.

It was just a boy and a girl in love.

He really liked how simple it was. But most of all, he liked how much she loved and valued him despite that simplicity.

Her fingers wove through his hair as she slanted her mouth against his to get better access, and he happily obliged. His arms somehow had snaked around her torso, bringing their chests flush together. She hummed in happiness, sending him reeling.

When they broke apart, Adrien leapt at the chance to pepper her jaw in kisses. She snuggled closer, her hands stroking his hair and leaving him dizzy. “I love when you do that,” he moaned.

“You love me,” she teased lightly scratching the nape of his neck gently.

He raised his head so that he could lock eyes with her. The world seemed to melt away at that moment, and all that was left was her and her smile and her loving gaze. “I do love you,” he whispered, causing her smile to split in two. His heart bursting and breath coming in rapid pants, he leaned down so their foreheads were touching. “You feel like home.”

She tilted her head so their noses touched. It also meant he felt ever last one of her rapid breaths roll across his extremely sensitive lips. “You feel like home to me, too.”

“I wish I could come home to you every day,” he said. “Better than coming home to this place.”

“You’re eighteen, you know,” she whispered. “You could just leave.”

“I’m looking,” he said. “I just haven’t found any place I like, yet.”

She quirked a brow. “Nothing?”

He shook his head, ruffling their hair on their foreheads. “Nothing. Do you know how hard it is to find a place on the top floor that will allow your girlfriend to sneak in on a regular basis without being caught? It’s not easy and not exactly something you can type into a search engine.”

Her expression turned stunned for a moment, and Adrien reveled in her surprise. “Because that’s very important to me,” he said. “That you’re able to visit me often easily and without worry.”

Slowly, her expression morphed into something sweet and soft. It wasn’t long before her lips were back on his.

He smiled with every kiss. She would never know just how much of a dream come true it was to be here, with her, together. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you,” she responded, clinging to him like a lifeline. “I love you so much.”

He deepened the kiss, causing her to release a whine. He swallowed it, only for it to burn hot in his stomach. “You mean the world to me, you know,” he said between kisses.

“You mean the world to me,” Ladybug returned, breathless. He basked in the realization that he was the one to cause that. “You’re just… you’re always the person I want to be with.”

He felt so much the same way. “You don’t think I don’t love opening my room, only to find you waiting for me? Do you have any idea how much that makes my day? How it makes every awful, horrible, miserable day into a day worth remembering?”

They shared a searing kiss after that, and Adrien forgot that he was talking in the first place.

Eventually, they calmed down, Adrien now laying fully on top of her and not caring how it happened because it was a wonderful feeling.

“Adrien.”

“Hmm?”

She paused, silence filling the room.

With a frown, he shifted so he could look at her. Her lip was between her teeth, which caused him to worry. “What is it, lovebug?”

“I’m debating,” she whispered so silently he almost didn’t hear it.

“Debating what?”

She stared at him again, and he grew slowly more worried. “Love, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

In one movement, she grabbed her yo-yo from her hip and tossed it into the air. “Lucky Charm,” she called, causing a burst of pink light to fill the room.

He didn’t see what she caught, mostly because he realized that she just cut their time short. “What was that for?” he asked, rubbing her earrings. “Now, you’ll have to leave, and you just got here.”

She smiled, her body relaxing under him. “I’m not planning on it.”

His brow furrowed. “You can’t… we agreed on this. We had this whole conversation and—”

“Adrien.”

He paused to look at her. Her smile was so wide and warm, which only made him feel more lost.

Suddenly, it clicked in his mind, and his jaw about hit the ground. “You’re going to reveal yourself to me.”

Her grin widened as she nodded.

His heart was going to race straight out the door, fly around the world, and maybe do another lap before returning to him. “Wha…” He swallowed. “What brought that on?”

“It’s not spontaneous decision.”

That was for certain. He loved Ladybug, and she could surprise him, but she wasn’t exactly spontaneous, especially if it involved something as important as her identity.

“I just… I really love you.”

“And I love you,” he assured. “But I don’t need to know who you are. You’re my lovebug. You’re my best friend. You’re the one girl who cares for me and wants the best for me. You’re the one I can go to if something is bothering me. You’re the girl I love being a grounding force for. That’s enough for me.”

Her expression fell, and Adrien knew her well enough to know there was an undertone of worry. “Is it, though?”

He nodded. “You can’t give me anything else. I realize that.”

“What if I could?”

“I would fly to the moon and back on sheer happiness,” he easily admitted.

Her grin returned, and she half-curled up on herself in a gesture that was both shy and giddy. “Then you’re not opposed to more?”

“Of course not,” he said.

“A lot more?”

“I’ll take anything you give me.”

“Like, be my husband more?”

And that’s when he froze.

She cracked open the little box that was red and covered in black polka dots. “Like, marry me more?”

Everything screeched to a halt as he turned from her to stare at the little ring she presented to him. Her words rang through his head.

It took far too long to realize this was a proposal.

His heart started up from its standstill, and suddenly, his eyes felt wet. Within a second, he was sobbing into her shoulder and clinging to her tightly. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes. Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I—”

“Adrien,” she interrupted, her voice sweeter than ever. “You’re rambling.”

“I shouldn’t be?” he challenged. “I’m kinda freaking out and really super happy.”

She snorted in amusement, and somewhere in the background, Adrien faintly registered her earring beeping.

He touched her earrings again, then looked at her, green eyes locking with blue.

She smiled. “Chat Noir and I had a conversation a while ago,” she began. “One about… revealing ourselves if we ever were to get married.”

He remembered that conversation. It was a long one discussing at length the pros and cons of keeping superheroing secret from their marriage partner. They could make excuses for a lot of people, but Chat had been adamant that a significant other wasn’t one of them.

He remembered Ladybug had been hesitant at the time. But apparently, she wasn’t now.

His heart was warm and drumming hard in his chest as she slipped the spotted ring over his finger. They were going to get married. And he was about as happy as he could possibly be. Smiling, he hid his face in the side of her head, shifting his arms around her and feeling her arms shift around his neck. “It doesn’t matter who you are,” he said. “I know what’s important.”

She hummed, turning her head to press her nose into his temple. “And that is?”

He squeezed her before meeting her gaze once again. “That you’re mine.”

[ironstarkstiel]

Elevator Confessions

A/N: Well surprisingly...people actually read and liked my last Harry fic. So here we are. I have Anxiety, mostly Social Anxiety but anyway, today I had an anxiety attack and after leaving the room and calming down and watching some edits, I thought this would be a nice idea. So...Anyway, I hope this is okay. :) (I wrote the majority of this listening to SoMo songs and it was a trip. 😂)

Key: H/C=Your hair colour

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Warning: Slightly heated scene but no real warning needed.

Summary: The Reader and Harry get stuck in a Star labs elevator together, Harry comforts the reader when she starts to panic, he tries to take her mind of it and ends up definitely being successful.

*Gif isn't mine, all rights are to the owner.*

It was way too early to actually be at Star Labs, but for the past few weeks this is what you had been doing. Coming into ‘Work' earlier than everybody else, hoping to possibly bump into a certain handsome genius, Harry. You had occasionally done exactly that, and been spending a large part of your mornings helping him work on whatever he had been losing sleep over the night before. If you were being completely honest, you mostly used this time to ogle at him when he wasn't looking and make small talk. You enjoyed having this time to get to know him better, without having any other distractions, like the rest of the team, or the constant Meta attacks. On these mornings, it felt like time was standing still and there was nothing to worry about, just you and him working alongside each other.

Today you were just sitting in the cortex, adding some notes into a file about a past Meta Barry had caught. Unnoticed by you, Harry walked up to the room, choosing to lean against the doorway, arms crossed. When he realised you didn't know he was there, he chose to watch you, admiring the adorable way you gently bit your lip and crinkled your eyebrows in concentration, smiling lightly at the action.

You turned around to go and get a drink from the kitchen when you spotted Harry and jumped in surprise. “Jesus Christ Harry, don't do that!” you exclaimed, hand held against your chest, as if your beating heart would leap out otherwise.

Standing straight, he chuckles, smirking at your reaction. “I'm sorry, although technically I didn't really do anything, I was merely observing from afar,” he admits.

Realisation hitting you, you start to fidget. “How...how long exactly?” You uttered, only peering up ever so slightly to glance at him.

He gives you a curious look and asks “Only a few minutes, why? What were you doing?”

“Nothing really, just...thinking, I guess, I don't know. Anyway, did you need something?” You question, tucking the H/C strands of hair behind your ear and straightening up, looking at Harry.

“Oh! Yes! I was just curious to see if you'd like to help me some more on adjusting the new power-dampening cuffs?” He scratched his head “I mean...only if you're free I mean.”

For someone who could come across as so confident, maybe even arrogant sometimes, he really could be pretty sweet, when he starts to open up and a little awkward, in the best way. “Sure!” you say a little too excitedly, before clearing your throat and adding “I mean, I'm not busy, so why not? Although...again with the handcuffs? One might start to think you're hinting at something,” you raise an eyebrow and smirk playfully.

Shocked at the suggestive meaning in your words and the sudden confidence in your voice, Harry raises both brows and let’s out a surprised huff, giving a quick laugh “I'm sure it would take lot more than that to persuade you though Y/N."

“I don't know, you can be pretty charming sometimes, when you're not busy being a grump" You flirt back, until you look down, realising he could probably never see you that way.

“Charming? Huh....w..wait. Grump? I have no idea what you're talking about, I'm a joy to be around, I'm great! I mean, why else would you be spending your mornings with this old grump, hm?” he teases back.

Looking around the room at any and everything in the room other than him, you choose to change the subject. “Right, are we going to work on these cuffs or not?”

Harry nods at you and you both start to walk towards the elevator, in a comfortable silence. You call for the elevator to reach the floor you're on, waiting patiently, briefly taking a peek at Harry through the corner of your eyes. You also take a second to think about how much you appreciated the bed head look he had been sporting lately.

The elevator doors open and Harry gestures for you to go first, walking close behind. Both in the elevator, Harry reaches over and hits the button for the lowest level, that contained the room in which you had both been spending most of your time at the moment.

The Elevator arrives at the floor, before bouncing ever so slightly, suddenly throwing you off balance. Harry reaches out, catching you between his arms, stopping you from falling down. Puzzled you look up at Harry for a second, eyes then returning quickly to the elevator doors. They don't open. Why aren't they opening?! They should be opening by now?! Breath. Assess the situation and breath, you think to yourself.

Warm firm arms still holding you, you realise your position and the feel of Harry around you. His arms encasing you, his scent surrounding you, a clean fresh scent, strong, with a hint of coffee. A dizzy feeling starts to take over you, although you're unsure if it's from his close proximity, or the anxiety bubbling from within at your enclosed space. Taking a trembling breath and giving a small shake of your head, trying to level yourself, you slowly remove yourself from Harry’s embrace. “What is going on?” You look up at him, like he has all the answers to every question you could possibly come up with.

“The elevator must have malfunctioned. I'll try to call Ramon, we won't be able to access the controls from here.” He mumbles out, while tapping away at his phone. “No service. Typical.” Sighing, he shakes his head at the situation taking place.

You feel your whole body tighten, heart beat starting to increase, erratically thumping against your chest, palms and cheeks heating up, fear and worry coursing though you. “What...what do we do?...how do we, oh go-" You choke out, words not forming, your words and mind hazing in panic. Your breathing becoming turbulent at the possibility of being trapped inside these four metal walls, with no evacuation plan.

Looking over at you, Harry takes a few seconds to evaluate your current state. Becoming aware of your shallow breathing and shaky fumbling hands, Harry gives you his full attention, hands resting on your shoulders. Firmly but calmly he assures you, “Y/N, listen. Look at me, look here at me, Y/N,” You timidly lift your head and meet his comforting gaze, eyes rapidly blinking. “Everything is fine. It's just an elevator malfunction. Ramon and the rest of the team will receive an alert that one of the Elevators is unresponsive when they arrive, okay?” He tries to sooth you, softly rubbing your shoulders. “You need to slow your breathing, your body is currently experiencing an elevated increase in your cortisol levels.”

“Harry. I know what an anxiety attack is, that isn't helping!” you cry out, starting to feel faint from the amount of oxygen you were taking in. You heard what Harry said, albeit just. But it wasn't helping, it felt as if the walls were pulsing, taunting you and almost as if they may begin to close in on you, at any given moment.

“What does help?” he asked, asking himself more than you. He rubbed his forehead with one of his hands, mind working like clockwork, before quickly looking at you again for a split second with an idea forming, closing his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

Opening his eyes, he looks straight at you, taking your face between his hands, quickly leaning in and pressing his lips firmly against your own. Stunned, you stop breathing for a moment, taking in what was happening, blinking in disbelief. Before you have time to register it completely, he pulls back and studies you, mouth turning up slightly at the corners in relief.

“It actually worked...I am extremely sorry Y/N, believe me, I am. But it worked...?” He breathes out.

Confused you ask him “Wait what? What worked?” You realise you are no longer panicking, but then it dawns on you. Harry just kissed you?

“The kiss! I had a theory...That...well, that you might hold your breath when I kissed you, thus helping even out the carbon dioxide to oxygen ratio in your body.” He explains.

Responding with a simple “Oh....” you look down at your feet and brush your hair from your face. So it finally happened and it was just to calm you down...great.

“What’s? What's wrong? He looks at you puzzled.

“Nothing, don't worry, Thank you.” Giving him a curt nod and a fake smile, before turning away and walking back to lean against the back wall.

Stepping towards you he puts his hand on your arm “Y/N, talk to me,” he tells you.

“I just....I thought that’d kiss meant something else, I don't know, it was stupid okay, I'm sorry. You helped me, thank you for that.” Refusing to look him in the eyes, scared of the reaction he would be expressing.

“I don't understand...” his voice barely above a whisper. Of course he doesn’t, he hasn't caught on to your ridiculous school girl crush at all before, even with how blatantly obvious you were, always having been terrible at hiding your feelings. Why would he understand now?

Taking a deep breath, your current elevator predicament long forgotten, experiencing a new kind of nervousness. “It means....I've wanted you to do that for a long time now and then when you actually do....it's not because you want to, it's to solve a problem.” You mumble, before bracing yourself to look up at his tall figure, ready to face his judgement. His emotions are unreadable, worry bubbling within you, you begin to ramble out “Oh god, just...ignore that, Harry, please, I never said anything. Please just preten-“ He silences you by pressing one of his fingers against your lips, successfully ‘shushing’ you so to speak.

“As much as I love hearing your voice, I need you to keep those pretty lips sealed for just a minute, so that I can speak, okay?” he chuckles. Barely moving your head, you nod, his finger still against your lips. Slowly gliding his finger over your bottom lip before removing it, he starts to admit, “Trust me Y/N when I say, I definitely wanted to. I have done for a while now, I just assumed you would never want an ‘old grump’ like me, you could do so much better. Plus, I think it’s highly unlikely I would have came to that conclusion, had I not wanted to.” He smiles softly at you.

You can't process it, you scan his features for any clue that this isn't real, finding nothing but sincerity. Going to open your mouth to speak, you quickly close it again, trying to choose your words wisely. With false confidence you attempt, “Would you want to do it again?...maybe properly this time?” but it comes out more shy and broken than anything.

“Very much so.” He says huskily. You both look at each other, the atmosphere suddenly changing, eyes clouding.

Before either of you even realised you were leaning towards each other, Harry's hand coming up to hold the side of your neck in his hand, thumb resting against your jaw. His lips first softly grazing against yours, hardly even touching, he pulls back barely a centimetre, teasing you. You tilt your head forward, chasing his mouth with your own. He loses the patient battle happening within himself and locks your lips together, both moving in sync. It starts off sweet and gentle, smiling happily against him at his unexpected tenderness. Slowly, starting to feel heated, the movement turns hungry and passionate. Tasting vanilla and that small trace of coffee on him, you want more, needing him to invade all of your senses.

His other hand moves against your waist, he presses closer to you, essentially trapping you against the wall. Deepening the kiss, your tongues dancing against one another, your hand winds into his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks, faintly tugging. He groans at the feeling. Hands moving down, caressing your side’s, before landing just below your ass, leaning down ever so slightly, lifting you, body sliding up against the elevator wall, the chill of the metal contrasting with the feeling of your fiery skin.

Your legs wrapping securely around his waist, feeling him firmly against you. Moaning, you gently bite his lower lip, as he starts to slowly break the kiss. He rolls his hips against you in reaction. He trails open mouthed kisses from your jaw line, down your neck, resting where your neck and your shoulder meet. Placing one more kiss there, before sucking and biting down on the area, marking you with a faint splash of purple, tongue running over the skin soothingly. Head nudging lower, littering more soft presses of his lips around your clavicle.

Your hand falls down to his abdomen, pulling at his shirt a little, untucking a small part, fingers slightly raising the dark fabric. You smooth your finger tips across the sensitive skin of his hip bone, his hips stuttering in response, grinding hard against the apex of your thighs, you accidentally let out a small appreciative whine at the friction. He looks back into your eyes at this, baby blues fogged over with lust.

“You're a little minx aren't you?” he says, voice gruff. You blush at this, looking down bashfully, light shy smile evident. He chuckles deeply at how you can be so innocently sweet, yet so sexy and bold mere seconds apart, leaning back in, reuniting your lips, profound emotion behind the fervent kiss.

“Please remove yourselves from each other’s embrace and remain at least 3 feet away from one another.” You jump at the unexpected voice coming through the elevator intercom, your eyes almost double in size. Cisco. Oh no. He must have seen you and Harry through the cameras when he was checking for the elevator fault, you had helped set those up, why didn't you think about that, you internally scold yourself.

“No, really guys. I'm happy you've both finally realised your little crushes on each other, after having put up with the awkward tension FOREVER but seriously move away. It's disgusting, none of us need to see it, get a room, not a shared elevator, ya nasty.” Cisco complains.

Harry sets you down, stepping away and holding both his hands up, mocking Cisco. Each of you at a different side of the Elevator, Harry gives you a wink and small smirk, cheeks turning a rosy shade of red again you look away, avoiding Harry and the camera.

“Okay, good. Anyway, the elevator is bringing you back up and the doors should be opening in roughly, 6..5..4..3..” The doors slide open. “Now" He quickly chimes in, pretending he knew the exact moment they would open.

You take a huge breath, leaning your head back against the wall in relief, looking at the now open doors and exit. Starting to walk out, you feel a hand wrap around yours, looking down, following the hand and all the way up the arm to Harry’s hesitant smile. It’s such a sweet and pleasant action. Unexpected but not unwelcome.

Hand in hand you walk back into the cortex to see Caitlin awkwardly avoiding you both as soon as you walked in, focusing on whatever she was working on. Ralph smirking walks past patting Harry on the back, “Harry you sly dog, didn't know you had it in you.” He remarks, walking out of the cortex whistling.

Cisco on the other hand, looked up at you both, shook his head and tutted, “The Elevator, really? Harry, you...you I don't even know anymore but you Y/N, I expected better!”

“Ramon.” Harry’s voice rumbles out.

“Yeah?” Cisco asks.

“Shut up.” Harry says, eyes boring into Cisco, like he thinks if he tries hard enough, Cisco might actually disappear.

“What? I'm just saying. I mean you do literally have a room right in this building Harry, I can breach you there if you need to avoid the elevator again.” He quips back.

“I think we'll just take your workshop.” Harry throws Cisco a smug look turning around, tugging you out of the room with him.

Cisco starts to chase after you both, “No, no you don't, come back her-HAAARRRY!”

[letitrainletitsnowbutdontletmego]

Finally - Chapter 10: Finally

aka: 9 times Jay tries to win Voight over (intentionally and not so intentionally) and the 1 time he doesn’t need to.

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Many, many thanks to @justkillingtimewhileiwait for all of her help, listening to me bounce ideas off her, ramble on about what I wanted to write and mostly, the beta-ing. You are awesome! :)

This is the last chapter, folks. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, liked, and reblogged this fic. It was so much fun to write! And, once again, I need to thank @justkillingtimewhileiwait for her motivation and support whilst writing this (and my fics to come!).

It only occurred to him once he was fully recovered and back to work from the shooting that Erin hadn’t disputed his want to spend the rest of their lives together. Even if he had been joking about annoying her for the most of it.

It hadn’t come up again, but in true Erin fashion, Jay wasn’t sure if that was because she had brushed it off or was refusing to deal with it. He had experienced the same kind of doubts when he had asked her to move in with him a year earlier, where she hadn’t directly addressed that step in their relationship until he had pressed her. And when he had, he had been pleasantly surprised to find that she was at the same place as he had been.

But this? This was something he definitely wanted. And unless he was actually asking her the question, it wasn’t something he could ask her about. So instead he had dropped a couple of hints to try to gauge her reaction to a bigger commitment and a future together, mentioning retiring in Wisconsin again and investing in a new car because, let’s face it, both of theirs had seen much better days.

Erin had smiled at the idea of Wisconsin, jibing carelessly about needing to sort out the creaking panels on the stairs, however, if she was going to stay there for more than a week. But it was her reply to the car which had given him the reassurance he had needed.

“Okay, but babe, you do realise we still have like 4 years left on paying off this place right? Unless something spectacular happens to them, why don’t we just put it on the back burner until we’re official homeowners?” she reasoned as they sat lazily on the couch in front of the TV, relaxing after a finishing up a tough case that had last for the better part of the past week.

Jay smiled to himself at her reply, glad she was unable to see from her position sprawled across his chest. “Yeah, I guess so. We do use the GMC more often than not these days, anyways.”

“Exactly. And who knows what else might happen in the next 4 years. If there’s one thing my sabbatical taught me, it was that saving up for rainy days isn’t the worst idea,” Erin added. The subject of her relapse over two years earlier was barely ever addressed, but when it was, Jay had found that she had made her peace with it. It had been a terrible time in her life, but pretending it hadn’t happened would only mean she hadn’t dealt with it.

Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he muttered into her hair, “I really hope your sabbatical taught you more than that, otherwise we’re gonna need to have a talk.” He tightened the arm around her waist to show he was just joking, laughing when she slapped him on the abdomen with a dramatically outraged gasp.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that? ‘Cause your sense of humour is nonexistent, and that’s just sadly unattractive,” she told him with a huff, tilting her head up to glare at him though the smile she couldn’t keep back ruined the effect completely.

Jay leaned down to kiss her chastely. “Yeah, well, the joke’s on you because you’re the one who’s stuck with me.” Erin hummed noncommittally at that and he took it as a win.

Which was how he had found himself texting his boss the next free Saturday they had, asking if he could pop over for a quick visit. He had done it without thinking, knowing any second guessing would give him cold feet, or worse, doubts.

Voight had replied not 10 minutes later, telling him he had some time that morning if he made it quick. So with an excuse of seeing Will and making sure he was alright after his break up with Nina, Jay had kissed Erin goodbye and headed straight out.

Jay parked outside the Voight house like he had done many times before, turning off the engine and sitting for a minute. He had no idea why he was trying to summon up the courage to do this; he was an Army Ranger, for god’s sake. He’d face fresh hell when on tour for days, and nights, straight, and got through coming back home. He’d even broken Voight’s very own rule about relationships in his team, and more than that, with the woman he considered a daughter.

But really, he did know why he was so nervous. This was the step that would set everything in motion. It would be the first time he would admit to someone other than his brother, who had heard it when he had still been in New York and Jay had drunkenly replied to a text that he was going to marry his partner one day, that he wanted everything with Erin. And he wanted it soon.

Letting out a long breath, he opened the car door and got out before he could convince himself otherwise. Jogging up the porch stairs, he knocked on the door, not having to wait long until Voight appeared and invited him in.

“What can I do for you, Halstead?” he asked as he led them towards the kitchen.

“It’s about Erin,” Jay began, taking a seat at the table when Voight gestured for him to do so after silently asking if he wanted a coffee.

“Is she alright?” Voight pressed, sliding a cup towards him and taking the seat on the opposite side of the table.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine,” he brushed off, stalling while he sipped his drink. It wasn’t the kind of liquid courage he would like, but it was good enough at 9 a.m. on a Saturday. “It’s actually about Erin and I. I want to ask her to marry me, and I wanted your permission.”

The sound of Voight’s surprised chuckle was definitely not what Jay had expected as a response to that. “My permission?”

“Yes, sir. You’re her father in every way that counts, and I know you haven’t always approved of our relationship, or liked me very much, but I do love her. More than anything,” Jay explained earnestly, watching carefully as Voight’s features slowly transformed back to his typical stoic facade.

“You think I would have let you stay in my unit if I didn’t like you?” Voight asked rhetorically, arching a brow at the younger man who merely nodded, considering his words.

“I guess that answers that question,” he stated lightly.

Voight shook his head almost fondly at the reply before taking them back to one of their earliest conversations. “When I told you to stay away from Erin, it was for your own benefit. And when I didn’t approve of your relationship, it was because I didn’t need that kind of drama in my team, and definitely not between two of my best detectives.”

Unable to think of what to say to his boss basically admitting that he never had really had a problem with him as a whole, Jay reverted to what he knew best and joked, “Well, I can’t promise there’ll never be drama with Erin around.”

“Understatement of the year,” Voight remarked with a small laugh.

They sat in a beat of silence, drinking their coffee whilst Jay pondered what it was the other man was considering. He hadn’t thought it would take so long, if he had been honest. He would ask Voight for permission to marry Erin, and then leave with the answer, dealing with the consequences once he’s out of there. Coffee and a chat definitely hadn’t fitted into those plans, and he was personally glad he had told Erin he’d gone over to see Will to give him the extra time.

“Do you really think you need my permission to marry her?” Voight finally questioned, hold Jay’s gaze as he did to people when he wanted to see if they were lying.

“No, but I’d like it,” he replied truthfully.

An impressed look passed over Voight’s face at his admission, and, if Jay was being daring, he might have said there was a hint of pride there too. “If I say no?”

“Then I’ll propose anyway, but I know it’d mean a lot to her if we had your approval,” he answered, before confessing, “It’d mean a lot to me.”

Voight sighed deeply, and Jay prepared himself to hear his rejection. “She’ll be pissed when she finds out, but yeah, you have my approval.”

Relief flooded him instantly, a weight he had no idea he had been carrying lifting off his shoulders and chest. “Yeah?” Jay questioned to make sure he was hearing right, unable to keep the keep the grin back when he saw Voight roll his eyes good-naturedly, a smile on his face too.

“You’re a good guy, Jay. One of the best I know. It’d be an honour to have you as part of the family.” It was rare to hear a compliment from his boss, so Jay took it to heart and understood he truly meant every word he said.

“That is if she says yes,” he muttered, realising that now he had gotten permission from Voight, the next person who could deter him would be Erin herself.

“She will,” Voight replied confidently, as if he knew something Jay didn’t. In truth, he probably did, and Jay knew he would never know what it was.

…

He recruited Will immediately in an effort to pick the perfect ring for Erin, only to find that his idea of helping was enough to make Jay want to bash his head in. So he got Burgess to tag along too, making them both swear a vow of silence as he took them to the one store where he had thought he had found the perfect ring.

They had agreed.

It was a solitaire diamond, princess cut on a platinum band, according to the jeweller. All Jay knew was that it was gorgeous and he didn’t want to propose with any other ring but that.

However, that had been three months earlier and Jay was no closer to proposing than he had been when he had gone to see Voight. He kept telling himself that he was simply waiting for the perfect moment, that he couldn’t do it on the job and that it wasn’t like he could keep the ring on him all the time.

He had contemplated taking her to the cabin and proposing there, but it was already cold enough in Chicago that Jay couldn’t put her through a Northern Wisconsin winter too. He wanted her to say yes, after all.

So eventually he plucked the ring out of the box and decided to start keeping the ring on him when off duty, in case the ideal moment popped up when they were strolling in the park one day, or when casually grabbing some coffee one morning. It was unlikely, but Jay was running out of ideas.

In lack of his better judgement, Jay went back to his Will for some help where the doctor had suggested a fancy dinner, to which he had shot down immediately.

“Have you met Erin? She’d hate all the attention,” Jay told him, stealing a beer from the fridge of his brother’s new apartment.

“Then just hire the whole place out or something,” Will countered with a casual shrug, to which Jay glared.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we get transported to some Twilight Zone world where cops make enough money to do that crap?”

After that, his big brother hadn’t been much of a help. Burgess had suggested the locker room, but Jay ruled out work altogether. And he was loathed to admit it but he was still scared of Voight enough to prevent him from asking him for an opinion. The last thing he wanted for the sergeant take back his approval when if he thought Jay couldn’t even think of a way to propose. It wasn’t a great start to married life, that was sure.

…

Having wrapped up another tough case, Jay put all of the frustration that had recently built up to the back of his mind as he focused on getting the two of them to unwind for that evening. They had grabbed some Chinese on the way home, stopping by a little bakery to indulge in some cupcakes too, and were now settled on the floor of their living room as they silently ate and watched mindless TV.

Well, it was mindless to most people, but Jay for some reason really got into the documentaries that were constantly on the educational channels. Even Erin had grown to tolerate it, especially when she was too tired to care about what was on and just wanted to eat, spend time together and relax.

Jay furrowed his brow as he concentrated on the TV, listening carefully about the aboriginal tribes of Australia and their traditional tribal tattoos. How they were worn with pride with each one having a significant meaning, usually related to a moment or an aspect of their lives.

Which, for a reason unknown to him, somehow got him thinking about the woman sat a foot away on his left, head tilted back onto the couch with her legs crossed and food forgotten on the coffee table in front of them.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but how did you never get a tattoo?” he questioned, out of the blue. Because he knew her and he knew her body, and even if he had initially missed the scar on her belly button, he knew she didn’t have any ink on her skin at all.

Erin tilted her head to look at him slowly, arching a brow as a frown tugged at her lips. “I feel like you need to explain some more before I can justifiably get mad at you and eat the last cupcake.”

Laughing, Jay pushed the box which had once contained three cupcakes towards her and then got about tidying up the boxes of takeout now they were done with dinner. “I mean, you know; street kid, wild child and all. You’ve got piercings to tell the tale.”

Erin shrugged as she finally followed his train of thoughts. “Yeah, well, piercings are easy to do yourself. Tattoos, not too much. Plus they cost money and money went towards one of two things back then,” she said, not having to clarify what the two things she would have spent her money on back as a young teen. Picking at the cupcake, she chewed on a large piece as her lips quirked up. “And then at Hank’s, I’m pretty sure he would’ve tried to scrub it off with sandpaper if I ever came home with a tattoo.”

“Well, if you ever consider it, I have a great idea for one,” Jay told her as he sat back again, shooting her a wolfish smile which left nothing a secret as to what he was thinking.

“Lemme guess, it’s one syllable and three letters long?” she replied dryly, shooting him a sarcastic grin when he chuckled.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page. I mean, you could condense it to just one letter if you wanted to, it’d mean the same thing,” he continued, reaching out and brushing his knuckles over her left breast, above her heart. “Right about here, I reckon.”

Scoffing, Erin shoved at his shoulder to make him drop his hand. “Possessive, much?”

“You love it,” he bit back immediately, loving the way she laughed and shook her head at him.

“Debatable.” Patting his chest at the same place he had skimmed over her body, she threw him a dimpled smile and lowered her voice seductively. “You first, babe, and then we’ll talk about it.”

Jay pretended to consider it, staring at her for a moment and watching as the playful glint in her eyes made them a bit lighter than normal. His own searching hers, something simply fell into place and told him that perfect moment he had been looking for was now, regardless of the less than romantic conversation they were having.

“Tell you what; how about just a ring for now?” he asked softly, seriously. Amusement still shone on her features as he shifted onto his knees to allow him to reach into his pocket to retrieve the engagement ring he’d tucked there earlier.

“What?” Erin laughed in confusion, looking away for a second to placed the empty cupcake wrapper onto the table before turning back to him. She sobered up rapidly and gasped when he fell to one knee next to her instead of stretching back out again. “Whoa!”

Jay smiled warmly at her reaction, proffering the ring between his fingers to her. “I love you, Erin, and I want to spend my entire life with you. And short of a tattoo, I can’t think of any more official way of showing you that except this. So, will you marry me?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!” she answered without hesitation. It took longer for Jay to register her reply, knowing he had heard correctly when she nodded along with her answer.

Grinning at the realisation that she really had said yes, he lifted her left hand from her lap and slid on the ring. It was a perfect fit, as he had made sure it would be, and sparkled even in the artificial lights of their living room.

When Erin let out a breathy laugh, Jay smiled up at her. He lifted her hand up to his lips and then leant in to kiss her, hoping he could portray everything he was feeling at her accepting his proposal without being able to say it. He’d never been the most articulate person in the world, but with Erin, he’d realised actions spoke much louder than words.

Breaking apart only when they were forced to for air, Jay reluctantly opened his eyes when he felt her free hand against his cheek. “I love you, too. So much,” she whispered with a soft smile.

Pressing one last kiss to her lips, he sat back and smirked at her. “You’re only saying that to get out of the tattoo.”

“If I’d take a bullet for you, don’t you think I’d get a tattoo for you?” she laughed before holding up the hand Jay still held. “But you’ve gone and gotten me this gorgeous ring now.”

“Which I think I love the sight of more,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the band of the ring.

This time it was Erin who leaned in, lips brushing over his, unable to keep away. “Me, too.”

…

Jay groaned when he felt her shift once again, instantly awaking him as she came to lay half upon him. They were both tangled up in the bedsheets, not having the energy to sort it out after celebrating their engagement for many, many hours before having succumbed to sleep.

Or least he had. Erin, on the other hand, somehow still had the energy to move around whereas all he could do was stroke his hand up and down her bare back soothingly.

“Go to sleep,” he muttered, not bothering to open his eyes in hopes sleep would take him instantly once again. He had never been happier to have the next day off.

“You go to sleep,” she shot back lamely.

“I’m trying but someone keeps sighing, and turning, and touching,” Jay told her, cracking open an eye and watching as she bit her bottom lip guiltily, yet not stopping in her actions.

The heel of her left hand pressed gently against his shoulder as she took in the diamond ring that newly adorned her finger. He knew she wasn’t a big fan of jewellery, but his ego was definitely enjoying the way she couldn’t keep her eyes off the ring.

“I’m happy. Deal with it,” Erin commented as she curled her hand around his shoulder and used it as leverage to push herself up so she could hover over him.

Now wide awake, he arched a brow and smirked boyishly. “Oh, I did deal with it. Multiple times if I remember correctly,” he said, brushing back her tousled hair and keeping his hand on her neck as she dipped down to kiss him. He pressed her closer to him with his other hand still on her back, looking into her bright eyes when she pulled away. “You’re really so happy you can’t sleep?”

“And excited. But yeah,” she admitted, kissing him once more. She laid back down on his chest, peering up at him and carrying on their conversation before he could even process her words and how they elated him. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Proposing? A while now. Actually deciding it’s time? About a month or two.” Her surprised look told him that that was definitely not the answer she had been expecting.

“You’ve had the ring for that long?” He nodded, causing her to laugh dryly and rest her head on his shoulder. “Wow, I’m a terrible detective.”

Jay chuckled at her dejected tone, hugging her into his side. “Nah, I just know you. I know where you wouldn’t look.”

Erin sat up immediately at his reply, narrowing her eyes at him and pointing an accusing finger. “I swear, if you say it was the cupboard under the sink with all the cleaning products, this will be the shortest engagement known to man.”

“I would never!” he exclaimed, amusement lining his words as he tugged her back down again. “But if it had been, you wouldn’t have known, right?”

“Go to sleep, Jay,” she all but grumbled, finally settling in for the night to allow them both to sleep.

…

True to Voight’s words, Erin had been pissed when she had found out that Jay had asked him for approval before proposing. It hadn’t lasted long, not when Jay clarified that his answer wouldn’t have deterred him but Voight giving him the green light only gave him the confidence that she would say yes.

After that, it was a bit difficult for her to stay mad at him, knowing how hard he had taken it when he had thought that Voight would think he wasn’t good enough for her.

“I can’t believe you actually had the guts to ask Hank for permission to marry me,” Erin teased once they had managed to tear themselves apart and get out of bed and the shower to have some breakfast.

“What can I say? I’m a traditionalist,” Jay remarked, throwing her his winning smile over his shoulder as he prepared their food whilst she sat at the table with the coffee ready.

Erin scoffed incredulously, pulling a foot onto her chair and resting her chin on her knee. “Yeah, okay; the Irish, Catholic-schooled boy who’s been living in sin for the past year is a traditionalist.”

“Not for much longer,” he reminded her, looking pointedly at her left hand as he pushed a plate with buttered toast towards her and took the seat opposite. “And I know that despite stating otherwise on numerous occasions, Voight is, for all intent and purpose, your father and you do care about what he thinks. And if nothing else, he deserved it for me to ask him first.”

Jay took a bite out of his breakfast as he watched her mull his words over, a soft smile pulling at her lips as she sipped her steaming coffee. She nodded concedingly at him, accepting what he had said as reason enough for doing what he did.

“I still can’t believe you had the guts to ask him, in the privacy of his own home, with no backup or a weapon. I mean, he very literally could have killed you,” she pointed out, far too lightheartedly for his liking.

He shrugged nonetheless. “You’re worth it.”

“Aww,” she gushed, scrunching her nose cutely. “I guess you really have won him over, huh?”

Tilting his head slightly, he considered the conversation he and Voight had had went he had gone over to ask for permission to marry Erin. “Yeah, seems like it.”

…

The first stop they made after breakfast was to see Voight. It was both out of courtesy and Erin unable to keep it to herself for another day. They figured making the announcement in person was the least he deserved, and it was little out of their way for the domestic duties they needed to fulfil afterwards.

Turned out, when it came to the sergeant in charge of the Intelligence unit, there was no real need for an announcement. Voight spotted the ring the moment he answered the door to the rather enthusiastic couple on his doorstep.

“You finally did it, huh? I beginning to think you had chickened out,” Voight laughed after leading them into the front room, patting Jay on the back as he spoke.

“How long was a while, Jay?” Erin probed, recalling his words from the previous night when she had asked how long he had been planning on proposing for.

Shrugging, he brushed off her question. “A few months. It’s all irrelevant now.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, evidently finding it amusing and knowing he was lying.

Turning back to Voight, she lifted her hand when he gestured for her to let him see. He gave the ring a quick glance before turning his attention back to his pseudo-daughter’s happy features. “Looks beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Jay and Erin replied at the same time, giving each other incredulous looks when they realised what the other had said.

“I chose it,” Jay defended himself, grinning smugly when she rolled her eyes and backed down.

“Congratulations, kiddo. You picked a good one,” he told her with a brief hug, turning her towards him when he pulled back. His eyes flickered over her shoulder to the man in question before adding, “But you tell me if anything changes, alright? A ring is just a ring sometimes.”

Groaning at his overprotective nature, Erin slipped out of the light grip he had on her shoulder and walked to Jay’s side. “Gee, thanks, Hank. Way to ruin it.”

“Just making sure you know,” Voight stated coolly before holding out a hand towards the other man. “Jay, welcome to the family.”

“I’m glad to be a part of it,” he replied honestly, shaking his hand.

It was brief and casual, but Jay knew the meaning behind the gesture was far greater than could be explained. Voight chose his own family, both at work and at home. He chose who to keep close out of love and who to keep close out of paranoia.

Jay had no doubts that once upon a time, he would have gone straight into the second column. But not anymore. And whether it was because he managed to win Voight over like he had vowed to, or because Voight had given him a chance based on who he was as a person, Jay realised he didn’t really care anymore. Not as long as the jibes the sergeant would continue to taunt him with were his way of showing the little affection Jay was sure the older man now held for him.

“Finally,” Erin murmured from next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Jay smiled down at her and brushed his lips against her forehead. “Finally.”

[kayleepetey]

Of Sutures, Spilled Juice, and Sticky Notes (Olicity AU fic)

So, after what I know has been a TERRIBLY long dry spell from me with my lack of writing and posting, things have just been busy and tiring in real life, here I finally have a story! This is the first part in a series of one-shots for a new Olicity alt-'verse, The Paramedic and the Vigilante. I have no idea how it came to me, literally I woke up one morning with this world and the versions of our beloved characters in my head and I had to write it. I hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, I am not receiving anything in the production of this story, it is purely for fun and entertainment.

Thank you to my beta and wonderful dartie, @agentsassydirewolf! Thank you for all the help, advice, and even for egging me on! ;-) You're the best!

>>>------------>

Of Sutures, Spilled Juice, and Sticky Notes

Tommy was right. Oh, how it pained Oliver to admit that; he hated being wrong--the Army shrink had rambled on and on about that particular "trait" (read: issue)--and hated admitting to it even more--oh, had the quacks ever had a field day with his bucket-load of issues...

Two years ago Oliver Queen's 12-year, decorated career in Army Special Forces ended after 9 months held captive by the enemy resulted in two fused vertebrae, a knee replacement, complete burnout, and a psych diagnosis of PTSD. The Army (and a few other government agencies he would never be able to name because the ops were unlikely to ever be declassified) and the United States of America extended their most heartfelt thanks for his service, operated on and rehabbed him, then gave him an early medical retirement.

Naturally Oliver's one-percenter, semi-absentee parents had been thrilled that that "nonsense" was over; they'd assumed this meant he'd take up his "rightful place" with his father at the family company and among the Starling upper-crust society. They even planned how to spin his "patriotism" into positive PR for the company, as well as responses (read: smoke screening) to questions about his business qualifications—or more accurately the lack-thereof.

Oliver instead had taken his G.I. Bill and become a paramedic--he'd briefly considered also going on to become a fireman so he could work out of the Fire Department, but nixed it due to an...incident in Kandahar that he and his Army buddy and mentor, John Diggle, still didn't talk about to this day, no matter how much the shrinks had prodded them; that was a place neither of them ever wanted to revisit. Oliver had immediately volunteered to work on the worst side of town, the Glades, much to his parents' further dismay, and quickly proved himself as the coolest head and most fearless--his friends called it "reckless" but Oliver preferred "fearless"--which were vital traits in many cases. And since he was rather perpetually single--it had to be some form of the universe getting karmic revenge after his playboy past: him being seemingly unable to have a woman stay with him for longer than a couple of dates now that he'd actually might want that--Oliver often took on extra shifts for coworkers who got sick, whose kids got sick, or who went on vacation with their family--his friends and sister accused him of using work to distract himself and avoid dating, but who could blame him after of the last three women one never called him back after the first date, another stalked him, and the third got shot by said stalker?

Suffice it to say that his workaholism--or avoidance tactics, according to his sister, friends, and his last shrink before he fired him--were the reason behind him now having to do something he hated: conceding to someone else being right.

Oliver had started out working his standard shift, then done a double when Charlie had called in because her daughter, two boys, and life-partner were all sick with the stomach flu; that had then rolled into a triple because of a 20-car pileup. He'd just dropped off their last patient when his oldest friend, Tommy Merlyn, ER surgeon-extraordinaire of Glades Memorial, stole his keys and forced him to go to one of the empty tea treatment rooms to rack-out for a few hours before going home, pointing out that after working for so long he had no business driving home on basically no sleep. When he'd sensed Oliver not quite giving in he went in for the kill: "I'm not going to let you go out there and become car accident victim number 21 for the night."

Rolling his eyes, Oliver reluctantly agreed to stay for at least four hours--negotiated down from the original six--and trudged through the familiar halls to the room his friend had indicated.

The further he got from the ER the quieter the halls became and the activity less frantic; he smiled and greeted the orderlies, nurses, and doctors as he made his way through--he was more or less familiar with everyone who worked there, it was a small, understaffed hospital, so everyone knew each other. Oliver checked in with the desk nurse--a sweet mother of two named Jenny--to let her know that Tommy had ordered him to use the room in her ward, to which she'd laughed and said she'd note it on the board for the room not to be disturbed unless necessary, doctor's orders.

Exhausted--and part of him wishing he was ten years younger--Oliver pushed open the door to the small room.

Which was already occupied.

The member of the trio of Starling City vigilantes dubbed by the police and media as "The Hood"—dumb name in his opinion—was standing by the counter, holding a wad of gauze of her left, black leather-clad shoulder, eyes visibly wide behind her signature hood and mask, even in the dim room, lit mostly by moonlight filtering in through the open window.

Oliver was frozen for but a moment—longer than it normally would be but he was coming off a triple, so he figured he could be cut some slack—before he closed the door and locked it behind him. "Gunshot wound?"

Hoodie--yeah, nevermind, he was not gonna call her that--blinked. "What?"

"Your wound." He gestured to her shoulder. "Is it from a gunshot?"

"Umm...yeah..." It sounded more like a question than an answer.

"Is it a through-n-through?"

Her mouth open and closed a couple of times before saying, "I feel like I should know what that means, but I'm kinda distracted from my bleeding to death and your general, extreme hotness." The dark-haired vigilante's teeth audibly snapped shut and her eyes squeezed tightly closed, embarrassment obvious.

Oliver found himself fighting a grin--where the hell had that come from?! He hadn't found much of anything amusing in  years, and this girl managed to amuse him within 60 seconds of meeting her?!--before stepping forward and clarifying, "Is the bullet still in your shoulder?"

"No, no bullet. I mean, there was a bullet, obviously, but it didn't stay in my shoulder, it went right through-- Thus...the through-n-through you mentioned. Yeah...it's been a night." Her perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth bit her full, dark fuchsia lower lip.

The fair-haired paramedic had reached her side and pulled the gauze away from her shoulder. All he could see was a bloody hole in the black leather. "We need to get this off." He tossed the used gauze into the medical waste bin before beginning to tug on her long coat.

She complied with his urging, unbuckling her belt then working the leather over her good shoulder with ease, while muttering, "Usually I wait until the third date before I let a guy start taking off my clothes." Her eyes again went comically wide.

This time Oliver could not quell the amused smirk that quirked his lips. "Better track record than I have."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see her mouth hanging open, while she stared at him, he probably felt overly-proud at being able to so shock one of the women who had the scum of the Glades running scared. The coat came off to reveal a, in his opinion, sensibly long sleeve top--who the hell would go fighting knife, gun, and other weapons-wielding criminals in short-sleeves or sleeveless tops?! He tugged at the sleeve. "This too."

"Now we're really getting into third date territory." This time he was pretty sure it was intentional on her part, she seemed to be watching him closely to see how he'd react.

He helped her with the clasps on her top that her wounded shoulder made a struggle. "You can buy me a drink later if it'll make you feel better."

"Oh, it should definitely be the other way around," she quipped back.

When was the last time Oliver had had this much fun bantering with someone? "Really?" Peeling back the leather top revealed a simple black tank, and a ragged gunshot wound, which he closely inspected using his penlight.

"Yep." She sucked in a sharp breath when he gently prodded the edge of the wound, shooting her an apologetic look before returning his attention to the injury. "Actually you should spring for an entire meal. I'm not a cheap date."

"Noted." He moved behind her so that he could take a look at the corresponding wound--notably the entrance wound, some fucking coward had shot her in the back--noting that both would only require a few stitches. "I should be able to close these fairly quickly, and the bullet missed the artery."

She twisted her head at a slightly awkward angle to look at the wounds. "Are you sure? It's bleeding a lot."

Oliver just barely managed to suppress a smile, nodding and leading her over to the bed. "I'm sure. If they'd hit an artery, you'd probably already be dead, and definitely would be unconscious." He drew her to a halt before him.

She managed to cock an eyebrow above her mask. "Well, you're a cheerful one."

He smirked. "Always." Then he grasped her around the waist and lifted her to sit on the bed.

"Oh!" the startled sound escaped her on a gasp, her lips parting into a delicious "o" that Oliver forced himself to ignore, along with how perfectly the curve of her waist fit in his hands, and that she smelled of freesias and violets.

Oliver withdrew to wash his hands before turning to the supply cabinets, quickly searching through them until he uncovered the items he was looking for, then set them all on a sterile tray and returned to her side, pulling on nitrile gloves. "We'll need to clean the wound first which isn't going to be pleasant."

The masked woman visibly swallowed. "I can take it." She was trying to sound tough, but Oliver could hear the tiniest quaver in her tone. The front wasn't necessary in his book, he already applauded the strength and bravery she'd shown thus far and did so every night on the streets.

He cleaned the wound as best he could, pretending he didn't hear the occasional gasps and whimpers that escaped her. Finally it was satisfactorily clean and, picking up the suture, he turned his gaze on her again, this time very apologetic. "I'm sorry, but they don't keep any anesthetic, even local, in the rooms. So this is going to hurt a lot."

Swallowing hard, the dark-haired woman tried to give a nonchalant shrug, spoiling the effect with a full-body flinch and grimace at moving her injured shoulder, saying, "It can't hurt worse than the bullet did, right?"

Technically, no, a gunshot was more painful, however the stitches were going to take time so the pain would be more sustained. But Oliver wasn't going to tell her that. "Just keep breathing. Don't want you to pass out."

"You suck at this bedside mannnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeer-- Ow ow ow owowowowow OW!"

He cast her an apologetic look from where he'd begun the stitches. "Well, there is a reason I'm a paramedic and not a doctor or nurse."

"Do paramedics even do stitches? I mean, are you even trained to do this?!" Her voice was becoming higher pitched and edging towards hysterical.

Oliver needed to head off that hysteria. "As a matter of fact I have been trained in sutures and have quite a bit of experience with them. I was Special Forces and trained in some field medicine." He kept his voice calm and soothing, his tone turning a little teasing as he continued, "And are you really gonna complain about the qualifications of the man helping you, no-questions-asked, Hoodie?" The name he'd thought of earlier popping back into his mind.

"What did you just call me?" she gritted out through her clenched in pain teeth.

Bingo. "Well, it's better than 'The Hood,'" he used a mock foreboding tone on the moniker as he moved to her back. "Dumb name, 'The Hood.' You should get a better one, Hoodie." Keeping her mad was good, anger kept hysteria away and would help keep her from passing out.

"Call me Hoodie again and I'll kill you," the dark-haired woman snarled. She kinda reminded Oliver of a feisty, little kitten, he liked her spirit; she and Thea would get along famously...he should probably make sure they never met. For many, many reasons.

"Considering I can bench press you, I think I'm okay with taking my chances, Hoodie." Most people would think he had a death wish, taunting one of the Starling City vigilantes, but after all he'd been through and done his fear threshold was set rather high, not much of anything fazed him at this point. And besides, even if she really could kill him he didn't think she actually would...probably. At least not until after he'd finished patching her up first. And besides he was growing fond of the nickname Hoodie.

"Then I'll ruin your life! You have no idea what these fingers can do!"

He raised an eyebrow at her, lips twitching. "No, I don't, but I'm sure I'd like to find out, Hoodie."

She frowned for a moment, thinking back on what she'd said before squeezing her eyes shut and groaning. "With a computer! Not...other stuff. Not that I'm not good at that other stuff, I mean, my last boyfriend said--" She clenched her jaw shut and then began counting down through her teeth," 3... 2... 1..."

"Done." Oliver snipped off the excess from the last suture.

Her head whipped around to look where he'd been sewing up the hole in the back of her shoulder. "You're done? Already?"

"Yep." He picked up a couple of large bandages, gently applying them over the stitches on each side of her shoulder, ignoring--or trying to--how soft her skin was under his fingers, even through the gloves, as he smoothed the adhesive edges down.

The vigilante narrowed her eyes at him. "Nice distraction technique."

"Worked in the field." Oliver gathered up everything and tossed it along with his gloves into the med waste bin. "Though I did nearly get my ass kicked once. ASA guy, my partner literally had to tie the guy's hands together behind his back. Still got socked in the jaw afterwards." He picked up her discarded top and gently began to help her pull the sleeve up her injured arm. "So, you're gonna want to keep those sutures as dry as possible, and try not to use that shoulder much, you do have a hole in it so it's gonna need some time to heal and recover, and you don't want to tear the stitches out either. You have someone who can take them out for you in a couple weeks?"

"Yeah, my partners can help me." She fumbled a bit with the fasteners on her top, so Oliver reached over and began to help her with them again. "I'm a big girl, I can dress myself, thanks," she grumbled a bit.

"Seemed to me that you needed a little help. And my mother raised me to be a gentleman and to help a lady when she needed it," he drawled sardonically, before gripping her waist and lifting her down from the bed.

"Yeah, I'll bet. Especially when it involves helping a lady out of her clothes? And why is it you keep picking me up and moving me places? I'm not a doll, I am perfectly capable of moving myself, thanks," she snarked back.

He snorted at her comment about him helping women out of their clothes. "Humor the man who just put the stitches into your shoulder and would rather not see them get ripped out immediately thereafter," Oliver wryly asked her, holding out her coat to help her slip it on.

Rolling her eyes, she allowed him to assist her, pointing out over her shoulder, "You realize that when I climb out the window and down the fire escape that's gonna be substantially more strenuous than hopping off a bed?"

"Thus why you're not going out the fire escape," he easily countered her, already moving towards the door.

Her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. "Is that so?"

"Yep." Oliver cracked the door, checking the hallway.

"And exactly how am I going to get out of here unseen?" Out of the corner of his eyes he saw her start to cross her arms, but then wince and let them drop back to her sides.

"The cameras are out on this floor, and just two doors down there's a stairwell that has an exit into the alley behind the hospital." The paramedic looked back at her. "That's how you're going to get out."

She blinked a couple of times, before joining him. "Well, if you want to be all logical and safe about it."

He smirked. "That'd be my preference." Quickly he scanned the hall, making sure it was clear. "Okay, let's go." Placing his hand at the small of her back, he urged her out of the room and down the hall, head on a swivel, ready to duck out of sight if someone came. They then reached the door to the stairwell and he held it open for her. "Down these stairs you'll find the exit, the one for the alley is the one without a window. Can you get yourself to safety from there?"

"Yeah." She nodded, eyeing him closely. "Why are you helping me? I'm wanted by the police, and you, y'know, work with the police."

Oliver was acutely aware of the hall at his back and that someone could appear at any moment and find them, but he considered his words carefully before answering, "The Glades need help. And you and your friends are among the only people actually trying to make a difference. Trying to do good. And you are." He heard the sound of faint footsteps approaching. "Go, and be careful."

"Thank you!" she managed to say just before the door closed.

Oliver nodded in acknowledgement through the tiny window, before forcing himself to turn and head down the hall back to the room, not wanting anyone to see him at the stairwell and it get back to Tommy that he attempted to "escape" or something. He nodded and smiled tiredly to the nurse he passed in the hall before ducking back into the room; he did a quick visual sweep to make sure there wasn't any evidence left that Hoodie--she'd probably would  kill him if she knew that he now thought of her as that--had been there, but aside from the blankets on the bed being slightly wrinkled, which wasn't an issue, everything looked perfectly normal.

As he breathed out a relieved sigh a new wave of exhaustion washed over him, his body screaming abuse at him, and the sigh turned into a grumble. Locking the door again--he did not need anyone getting in the room unexpectedly if his mind decided to revisit one of his nightmares; the last time someone had surprised him while he was having a nightmare he'd nearly killed his mother--Oliver moved to the bed, toeing out of his shoes before basically collapsing face first onto the cheap crappy mattress, though his sleep-deprived body thought it felt like the most amazing bed ever at the moment. Finally he gave into his exhaustion, his mind slowly sinking down into sleep, the scent of freesias and violets drifting from the blankets and following him pleasantly into his dreams.

>>>---------->

One Week Later

Felicity gritted her teeth as her shoulder throbbed beneath her pink blouse, the asshole she'd passed on the way to her desk had slammed into it, not even bothering to apologize. Jerk. She forced herself not to rub it, as was her first instinct, knowing it would do more harm than good. Sara had assured Felicity that the person who patched her up did a great job. When her bo-staff wielding compatriot asked who it was that'd helped her, Felicity had told her that he hadn't given his name. Not a lie, because he hadn't, but who in Starling City didn't know Oliver Queen? All these days later and Felicity still didn't know why she hadn't told Sara who it was that'd helped her.

Unconsciously her fingers rose to lightly rest on the stitches, remembering his gentle touch as he bantered with and teased her, amusement shining through the shadows in his bright blue eyes. Felicity honestly hadn't ever expected to meet the heir to the Queen empire, so she hadn't really had any set expectations as to what he'd be like. At least she'd thought she hadn't, but when she met him he'd surprised her at every turn. The second she'd thought she had a handle on who he was and how he'd react, he'd done something she completely didn't expect. He'd completely and utterly shed the playboy persona of his teen years, his serving in the Army for over a decade alone proved that, and he had a sardonic, self-deprecating sense of humor she wouldn't have predicted. Above all, she'd learnt that Oliver Queen cared, deeply. He could have just taken the easy path offered to him by following his parents' plans for him, but instead he chose to enlist in the Army, where he'd volunteered for the truly dangerous jobs, while also lending a helping hand where he could--she may or may not have hacked his file, and while some of it was too heavily protected for her to risk attracting attention by digging any deeper, what she had been able to find told her a great deal about the kind of person he was.

After the hell of his captivity--even just reading the debrief of what had happened to him and his fellow soldier, John Diggle, and the resulting injuries had Felicity cringing in her seat--no one would have faulted him for choosing the easier life his family wanted for him, but instead he'd chosen a profession that was dedicated to helping others and to do so in the roughest part of town and that was most in need. Oliver had a big heart, possibly the biggest Felicity had ever encountered, one, she was beginning to suspect that even from their brief encounter, he hid under sarcasm and a façade of professional distance--that, and him trying to keep her calm while doing his job, had better be the reason why he called her freaking Hoodie. Whatever else Oliver Queen might be, he was definitely a good man.

"Felicity Smoak?"

And "he" was apparently standing in front of her cubicle.

Frack.

Felicity had automatically looked up at her name being called, and if there ever was a "speak of the devil" moment, this was it. But what a handsome devil he was... Frack, her brain.

He gave her a charming, but distant, smile. "Hi, I'm Oliver Queen."

Yes, yes, he was. In all his muscle-ly, perfectly scruffy glory; his forearms strained against the rolled up sleeves of his blue plaid shirt, and his jeans clung very nicely to his strong thighs--and probably perfectly formed to his unbelievable ass.

Felicity didn't realize she'd been staring until he cleared his throat, startling her out of her stupor. Gods of Google she hoped that for once she'd managed to not babble all of that.

The smirk on Oliver's face and the amusement dancing in his eyes put a damper on that hope.

"I'll take all of that as a compliment."

And now it was DOA. Double frack.

Blushing furiously, Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose and cleared her throat. "Mr. Queen, please accept my apologies for those utterly inappropriate statements--"

"Oliver," he easily cut in.

"What?" She blinked up at him from behind her square frames.

"It's Oliver. Mr. Queen is my father."

"Of course he is. Because he's my boss and that's his name. But it's your name too, and it's on the side of the building--" Felicity forcefully snapped her jaw shut, trying to keep herself from digging an even deeper hole.

He shifted on his feet, for the first time in their short acquaintance actually looking uncomfortable. Felicity noticed the fingers of his right hand were rubbing together rapidly, her mind for some reason taking note of the tiny gesture. "Still, I'd rather you call me Oliver." There was nothing flirtatious about his tone, in fact it was rather flat and firm.

This was important to him; she didn't really understand why--yet--but it was obviously something he felt very strongly about, and Felicity would respect his wishes on this. Slowly, she nodded. "Okay, Oliver, what can I do for you?"

Gratitude washed over his face--Felicity pretended not to feel the warmth that flooded her heart at the expression--before a somewhat sheepish look overtook it. He lifted up a laptop he'd been carrying at his side and set it on her desk.

When Felicity placed her fingers on it she immediately noted a sticky substance coating it; she pulled her hands back with a grimace. "What happened to this…" she eyed the computer, noting how it was several generations old, "poor dinosaur?"

"Hey!" He jabbed a finger at her, a teasing note threading his offended tone. "That dinosaur has served me well! Survived multiple deployments."

"And it should have been enjoying a nice honorable discharge to the back of your closet, not whatever travesty has befallen it instead," she countered, matching the teasing in his tone as she reprimanded him.

Bashfully ducking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Oliver shrugged. "I kept meaning to get a new computer, but it ran fine so I just put it off."

She cocked an eyebrow. "So, what happened to Dino?"

He slowly raised his gaze to hers. "I was watching my goddaughter and apparently sippy cups aren't as leak-proof as they make them out to be..."

"Or maybe there was a user error? And by that, I mean you, not the child."

Grinning wryly, he shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time. They call these things kid-friendly and then make them impossible to operate. It took me three hours to put her swing thing," he made some odd gestures with his arms, apparently supposed to describe the object--and Felicity found it far too adorable, "birthday present together last month."

She ducked her head to try to hide her twitching lips. He probably didn't realize just how much the simple statement said about him. Good gods of Google, it truly was unfair for a man that good-looking to be so sweet and actually kinda...adorkable...

Felicity quickly shook her head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. "So, What exactly can I do for you? Because I'm pretty sure not even I can help this poor unfortunate soul."

"Well, as long as the it doesn't cost my voice, I was hoping you could get the files off the hard drive," he teased back.

She felt her eyebrows shoot up.

At her surprise, Oliver shrugged. "The Little Mermaid was my kid sister's favorite growing up, and now Sara, my goddaughter, likes to watch it every time she comes over to my place."

Frack. How the hell did this guy just keep getting more and more attractive?! He's your boss. He's your boss. She tried to keep the mantra up, but a unhelpful corner of her mind slyly threw in, He's your boss...sorta. Not really... He doesn't work here at all, he's just the son of-- Shut up! Great, and now she was having arguments with her own brain. Felicity shook all that away before turning back to Oliver with a smile. "Let me take a look at it and see what I can do."

Oliver smiled. Gods of Google help her, he really smiled. It was brilliant, it lit his too-old eyes in such a breathtaking way, brighter than she'd seen them either in the media or in person. "Thank you, Felicity."

She'd never heard someone say her name like that, lingering over each of the syllables, as if savoring them. Frack, this man was unreal.

He snagged one of her sticky note pads, the green one, and picked up her red pen, scribbling quickly. "Here's my number, just call me when you're done." He grinned at her again, handing her the pad and pen back.

"Of course!" Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose with her free hand. "It should only take a couple of days."

"No rush," he assured her as he stuck his hands in his pockets. An oddly knowing glint entered his eyes, a smirk touching his lips. "See you around, Felicity."

"See you." She watched him until he turned the corner out of the IT Department, then shook her head to banish the very appealing images of Oliver Queen. She finally looked down at his note, preparing to pull it from the pad and stick it by her screen, but froze, eyes going wide as she actually read what he'd written below his phone number:

Just in case you need some more medical assistance, Hoodie.

Her first thought was: I'm gonna kill him for calling me Hoodie!

Her second thought was: Fuck.

>>>----------->

So, I will definitely be doing more in this 'verse, I'm having TONS of fun with these versions of Oliver and Felicity! XD

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you want to see more from this AU!