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creampuffqueen · 3 years ago

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Getaway Car - Cresswell, TLC Shipweeks 2021 (Criminal AU)

a/n: Hello!!!! TLC fandom! It's been quite a while since I did anything for y'all! But here I am, back from the dead, with an unholy amount of one single fic for the ship weeks. I was going to post this yesterday, since that was Cresswell's AU day (I think, I wasn't originally planning to post anything so I wasn't keeping track, but I listened to Taylor Swift's song Getaway Car and got a Vision) but sadly my ideas were too large to complete in one day! So take this now!

Word Count: 13142 (yes, I know)

Summary: In an alternate universe, Cress and Thorne are partners in crime, literally. They may also be in love with each other, literally.

Warnings: Contains mentions of guns, violence, underage drinking, cursing, and a lot of crime

~~~~

“Cress, you got me?” Thorne’s voice crackled over the speaker of the burner phone, right into the waiting ears of the person he needed most.

His getaway car, Cress Darnel.

“Loud and clear!” She replied, twisting the key in the ignition of the old car. The engine roared to life under her touch, and the young woman sped out of the alleyway. “Keep going, I’ll be there. You know what to do.”

“We’ve done this almost a dozen times; I know what to do!”

The blonde cracked a grin to herself, “Sure you do. You’d be lost without me.”

“You got that right! See you in two! Mwah!” With that last endearment, the line went dead, and Cress chucked the cell phone out the window with an exasperated smile. She was parked close enough that the rendezvous spot only took her one minute, sixteen seconds to reach.

Timing was of the utmost importance to this mission. Even a few seconds too late and everything would end.

This was proven approximately thirty-eight seconds later, when Carswell Thorne, renowned criminal, tore around the corner, half-zipped duffel bag slung over a shoulder. He had a gun, but both he and Cress knew it wasn’t loaded, it was just for show.

The doors were unlocked, the car had a full tank of gas, and Cress was a very good driver. “Floor it!” Thorne shouted, and Cress didn’t have to be told twice.

When the police arrived, approximately twenty-two seconds later, they, and all evidence, were long gone.

~~~~

After an hour of driving, it was getting dark. Thorne discreetly hotwired a new car in a full supermarket parking lot, and the duo was on their way.

Another hour of driving, and Thorne took over the controls from the younger woman, letting her nap in the passenger seat. She curled up in a little ball, so small she didn’t even stick out of the seat. When she was fast asleep with her cheek squished against the window, Thorne finally risked a glance over to his partner.

It was strange to think they’d only known each other for a few months. Well, six months, two weeks, and five days, to be exact.

He’d tried to stop himself from keeping count. It hadn’t worked. Six months, two weeks, and five days of Cress Darnel being in his life.

It was about nine o’clock, so the traffic was beginning to thin a bit. They were in one of the busiest parts of the city, easy to blend in with their average-looking car. Someone honked behind him, and Thorne gave a glance in his rearview mirror. Whoops.

The day had been long and exhausting. Time to start working on a place to hunker down for the night. Cress shifted a bit in her sleep, and a loud grumble cut through the car. Okay, time to find some food, too.

He drove around the city a bit more, making sure nobody was on their tail, before finally exiting to the more sparsely-populated areas. Where you paid for your room in cash and nobody asked questions.

It was eleven o’clock by the time he finally found someplace suitable enough. He drove through a fast food joint nearby, then finally parked the car. Nudging Cress awake as he exited, he wordlessly passed her the food before heading inside.

Most of the rooms were sold for the night, but they thankfully had one available with two twin beds.

He found Cress devouring her burger like she hadn’t eaten in years. And-

“Hey, fry-stealer!” He chuckled, snatching his bag, “Eat your own!”

She gave him a look with those big blue eyes and something inside him melted. “I already ate mine.”

Thorne rolled his eyes, but passed her a couple more fries anyway. “This means you have to carry your own bag, you know.”

That statement earned him another pout, but he ignored it, instead grabbing his suitcase and the duffel bag containing today’s goods.

He left Cress to her own devices, heading inside the room and grabbing the shower first. His food would be cold, sure, but at least he’d get all the hot water he wanted.

When he came out again, toweling off his hair and rubbing his freshly-shaven face, Cress was inside, passed out on top of her hotel-made bed.

Thorne sighed, but couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. It was exhausting, having so much brainpower all the time.

He tugged off her shoes, placing them neatly by the bed, in case they needed a quick escape. Then, gently, almost reverently, he tucked her under the covers.

He couldn’t resist. Making sure she was fully asleep, he pressed a soft, tiny kiss on top of her perfect golden hair.

“‘Night, Cress.”

He was fast asleep himself before he heard her reply.

“Goodnight.”

~~~~

The pair made an early departure, before other residents rose from their slumber and possibly compromised their location. Since Thorne had driven for so long yesterday, Cress felt it was only fair that she drove. It was a bit strange, she admitted, usually she was the night owl and he the early bird. But yesterday had been hard. It took a lot of planning to pull it off that smoothly.

By the time the sun rose, the pair was at least an hour away from the motel. Cress got them both coffee at a little roadside place, then pulled off to the side so they could enjoy it.

“You always get my order right,” Thorne chuckled, leaning against her as they sat in the open trunk of the car. “I’ve got a very sensitive palette, you know.”

Cress snorted, “You sure do. That’s just pure sugar in a cup right there.” She took a big gulp of her own brew, which was almost pure espresso.

“I don’t know how you can drink literal dirt water!” Thorne protested, “It’s so nasty!”

Cress bumped his shoulder again, still smiling. He grinned right back at her, before turning his eyes back to the early-morning sun.

“You ever think you’d get to see stuff like this? Do stuff like this?”

Cress could think of a thousand different witty remarks to toss back at him, mostly along the lines of “Being a wanted criminal? Absolutely.”, but for whatever reason, she held her tongue, instead replying, “No. Back then I didn’t even know when I’d see the sun next.”

Thorne turned his blue eyes over to her, squeezing her hand in a silent comfort. This close, she noticed that he’d shaved last night. And was letting his roots grow out again. Her heart sped up, just a bit.

In the six months she’d known him, he’d changed his appearance so often she was losing count. He always did after a heist, no matter how big or small. He dyed his hair, let his beard grow out, or sometimes simply donned a pair of glasses. Cress hadn’t changed hers since the very first.

~~~~

“Hey, blondie, where are you headed?” Cress whipped her head around to the voice that sounded. Rumbling up beside her was a car, front window rolled down, to reveal a young man, only a year or so older than her.

“None of your business,” She responded warily, curling in on herself a bit.

“Are you lost?” The guy continued, “I could give you a ride.”

“Like I’d get in a car with a strange man. That’s, like, begging to be killed.”

The guy looked actually offended at that. “What? I don’t kill people!”

Cress just rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the offer, but no.”

She turned away, hitching her backpack higher. She’d chickened out again. Sybil would be home any minute and she needed to get home. Her pace quickened, and the car and the guy rolled off.

Little did she know, that certainly wasn’t the last she’d see of him.

~~~~

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.” Cress pulled the duffel bag of stolen material towards her, beginning to rifle through it while Thorne watched. The late afternoon sun filtered through the window, turning her golden hair into an illusion of fire.

They’d ditched the car yet again, this time nabbing one from a used car parking lot. Now they were in a small town that the highway ran through, alone in a back alley, the only company being an alley cat in the trash and a couple further down that were too caught up in each other to notice anything.

Inside the bag, Cress pulled out treasure after treasure. A lot of cash; Thorne had the employees empty all the registers, and a lot of what Cress needed: Computer parts.

She had an old, run-down laptop, one of the few things taken with her from her previous life in the quiet suburbs. She would have had Thorne steal another laptop, but those were too traceable these days, even if they were brand new.

So manual upgrades it was.

Computers were her specialty, always had been. And now that she was a part of this merry band of two, her computer and her skills were integral parts to everything they did.

As it turned out, the most recent robbery had yielded exactly what she needed, and more. She gave a squeal of delight after unearthing a certain part, hugging it close to her chest.

A little chuckle sounded behind her, and Cress whipped her head around. Thorne was grinning ear-to-ear, the kind of smile that made her face heat up. “Happy, Goldilocks?”

Her face burned, and she twisted her fingers in her shoulder-length locks of hair. But she met his eyes and nodded. “Really happy. This is exactly what I needed.”

Thorne’s smile softened. “Anything for you, Princess.”

And somehow, deep inside her, she knew he was speaking the truth.

~~~~

Cress sprinted along the side of the road, the grass scratching at her bare legs. Her whole head throbbed, and her left wrist was sprained for sure. Every step pulled at the bruising on her stomach, and it was a struggle to keep moving, keep the backpack on her shoulders, keep moving.

“I’m eighteen now, she can’t hurt me anymore. I’m eighteen now, she can’t hurt me anymore,” She murmured over and over to herself, a mantra to keep her sore legs moving. She needed to leave, needed to keep moving.

She risked a glance behind her. Her heart froze.

Car lights were coming up the road. Fast.

Cress started running faster, biting her lip to keep from sobbing, keep from just keeling over and dying right there. She could beat her. She could escape. She just had to keep moving.

It was the middle of the night, there was no way anyone else but Sybil was driving that car. There was nowhere to hide. All she could do was keep going, and hope that maybe she sped right past. It was foolish, but it was all she had.

Her foot slipped into a small dip in the earth, and her whole ankle screamed, sending her toppling into the dirt. Coughing and sputtering, she pushed herself up, stumbling forward. The tears came, fast and hard and unstoppable. The lights were nearly on top of her now.

And that’s when she saw it. Another car, coming towards her. Her last chance.

Cress nearly toppled over herself in her haste, tumbling into the middle of the road, in the path of the incoming car. As expected, it screeched to a stop, the driver slamming on the horn.

“Help!” Cress screamed, as Sybil’s car pulled up behind her, her face illuminated by the other headlights and frozen in fury. “Please help me! She’s going to hurt me!”

“Crescent Moon!” Sybil bellowed, and Cress backed up against the other car. The driver’s door opened. And out stepped the most handsome man Cress had ever seen in her life.

Okay, she was definitely dreaming. She gave herself a tiny pinch.

Maybe not.

The man… he seemed familiar, somehow. She couldn’t quite place it.

“Cress,” Sybil snarled, stomping over, “Get in the car, now.” Her tone left no room for argument. Cress curled in on herself.

“Hey,” The man replied, “Who the hell are you?”

“Her mother.”

“Foster mother,” Cress interjected softly. “And I’m eighteen. You don’t own me anymore.”

If Sybil’s face could get more furious, it did. The man glanced between them, brows creasing as he took in Cress’s limp, her black eye, the way she held her stomach.

“You heard the girl. She doesn’t belong to you, witch.”

Sybil lunged, grabbing Cress’s sprained wrist. She screamed in pain, and the man moved.

And suddenly he was pointing a gun at her foster mother. Everyone froze.

“Let her go.” He said, “Leave her alone.”

Sybil backed away. “I’ll call the police, boy. You can’t threaten me.”

The gun clicked. He armed it. He pointed it straight at Sybil.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s eighteen. And if she comes willingly, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

And Cress really couldn’t say why, exactly, but in that moment she knew that he was truthful. That his words made sense, and more than that, she would go with him.

“I’m going with him, Sybil.” For the first time in her life, Cress Darnel was being brave. And it wasn’t a dream.

The man turned to her, flashing a grin, and Cress recognized him then. The same one who approached her nearly a month earlier.

“Cress, right?” He asked, when Sybil had retreated to her car and driven away, “Nice name. I’m Carswell, but everyone calls me Thorne. Oh, and sorry to scare you like that. This thing isn’t loaded, never has been.”

Cress glanced down the road, at the car growing steadily smaller in the distance. “Thanks for all that, Thorne. You showed up just in time.”

He offered her a hand to shake. “My pleasure, blondie.”

Despite everything, Cress found herself cracking a smile.

~~~~

“So, where to next, milady?” Thorne beamed, spreading a roadmap before them both. They’d finally stopped for the night, and were sitting on some questionable carpet in an even more questionable motel, figuring out their next plan.

“Dunno,” Cress shrugged, “Wherever’s good, I guess.”

“I mean, where you do want to see?” Thorne elaborated. “What’s your dream destination, Cress?”

She gave him a confused look. “Why?”

“You can say Disneyworld. I won’t judge.”

That earned him a snicker and a shove against the shoulder, and he could almost feel his heart swell with affection. She really was adorable, sitting in a tank top and pajama shorts, thick socks rolled around her ankles. He’d do anything to earn that smile again.

“I’m not sure, really. I’ve never had the chance to really think about it.”

“Well surely you must at least know some places. A place you’ve heard, maybe?”

Cress sighed, leaning further against him. “I don’t know, Thorne. What about you? Where do you want to go?”

“Ladies first, Goldilocks.”

“It’s Disneyworld, isn’t it.”

“You could hack their system and get us free tickets! And fast passes for all the rides! It would be great!” He replied enthusiastically.

“I mean in theory, sure, but Disney’s kinda notorious for being fairly unhackable.”

“Damn it.”

Cress yawned, laying nearly in his lap. “Let’s think about it tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Thorne lifted her, bridal style, to her bed, amidst her soft giggles. She sounded like a fairy. “Goodnight, milady. I shall seek thee out in the morning.”

Cress laughed harder, which turned abruptly into a yawn as she tucked herself beneath the covers. “Goodnight, my knight in shining armor.”

~~~~

Over the next few weeks, they travelled to wherever they felt like. The car they had was stolen from a junkyard, so it wasn’t like anyone was looking for it. Sure, it was a piece of crap, but it moved and it did its job.

They moved intermittently between small and big towns, usually only spending a day or two before hitting the road again. Cash was hard to come by, so they mostly resorted to stealing purses and pickpocketing. Cress felt a little bad about it, but hey, they needed to eat.

Things between her and Thorne were… changing. She couldn’t exactly tell how or why, but she knew they were. The change wasn’t bad, but it was different. And strange. And a tiny bit scary.

She’d find her gaze naturally finding his at any given moment, catch herself staring when she shouldn’t. She laughed at his dumb jokes more, focused on the sound of his voice when she should be focusing on the road.

He hadn’t changed his appearance in a long time. His hair was its natural shade of golden brown again, and he kept his face clean-shaven. The dumb glasses had been broken and dumped some time ago.

And it wasn’t just her that was staring, either. She felt his eyes, sometimes saw them too, when he thought she wasn’t looking. He was doing more and more to make her laugh. And he wasn’t being as careful to make sure she was asleep before he kissed her head goodnight.

Cress didn’t really know what to make of these changes. She couldn’t tell if these were good or bad. She wasn’t used to this, these butterflies in her stomach, this heat in her face. Sybil kept her isolated her whole life, and she was just now starting to really experience the world. Was it right to fall for the first guy her age she met?

Because she realized that’s what it was. They were in a moderately sized town, and were walking around the downtown area, looking for a place to eat and also some easy targets to fund said meal.

Sadly, this wasn’t an easy crowd. They had eyes in the backs of their heads, and after nearly an hour, they only had a meager ten dollars to show for it between them.

“Hey, chin up,” Thorne grinned, “We’ll be fine. I think I saw a fast food place up there, follow me.”

He grabbed her hand, and Cress couldn’t stop the dopey grin that found a permanent residence on her face. He’s holding my hand.

Unfortunately, it was a high end fast food place. The kind that had “gourmet” food at a third of the price of a fancy restaurant. Even the cheapest item on the menu really meant one meal to split between them both.

“You should eat, Cress.”

“No,” She protested, “Let’s find somewhere else. We both need to eat.”

He shrugged. “It’s late. Just promise to give me a bite, okay?”

She would have argued more, but she was really hungry. So, begrudgingly, she made her way to the register and bought dinner.

That was when she really realized what they were. He smiled at her the whole time while she ate her fill, head resting on his hands. He took the bite she offered, and refused any more. She knew he was hungry. And yet, he let her eat.

Anything for you, princess.

~~~~

Surprisingly, the guy hadn’t killed her yet. Weird. It had been three days. And he was still being nice to her.

They’d stayed in a motel nearby. Two separate beds. He’d been a perfect gentleman the entire time. He helped her ice her sprains and bruises every day. He made sure she was comfortable.

“Are you sure you really wanna be hanging out with me, Goldilocks?” He asked on the dawn of the fourth day, “There’s nowhere else you’d rather be?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” She responded suspiciously. It’s not like she had anywhere to go, anyway.

“No, no, of course not!” Thorne insisted. “It’s just, weird, I guess. People don’t hang out with me willingly too much.”

“Why?”

He dramatically brushed his hair out of his eyes, “I’m just too good for them I guess.” Then he met her gaze with a serious look. “No, it’s because I’m a criminal.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed.” Also she’d looked him up as soon as she had some time alone. It wasn’t hard to unseal his juvenile record, where she found he’d been arrested several times for theft. And once for grand larceny at seventeen, which was honestly kind of impressive. That also explained where all the money was coming from.

“Oh.”

Cress awkwardly looked away. “I mean, it’s whatever. I don’t care that much how you make money.”

“I promise I don’t steal from old ladies or hobos or anything like that.” Cress blinked at that. How had he known that was worrying her?

He seemed to also understand that, too. “You’re literally an open book, princess. You’re not good at hiding your emotions.”

That was their last interaction for the day. He left around lunchtime with an empty duffel bag, and Cress decided to look the other way, for now. She made herself comfortable the rest of the time, before finally falling asleep around nine o’clock.

She’d barely been asleep thirty minutes, according to the clock on the bedside table, when Thorne burst inside the room with a gasp.

“What’s going on?” Cress grumbled as he flicked on all the lights.

“Get up, we have to go. The police are right on my tail, I won’t lose them for long.”

Well, that was one hell of a wake up call.

Thorne was tossing his stuff haphazardly into his own backpack, shouting at Cress to do the same. The duffel bag on his shoulder was full, and Cress caught a small glimpse of green on the inside. Money.

Being inside the motel for four days, her things were strewn about. She was taking too long. With only her laptop and about half her clothes packed, Thorne decided it was time, and dragged her out of the motel room.

Cress was barely inside the car before he floored it, screeching out of the parking lot. His blue eyes were wide, but nearly as terrified as she expected.

Of course, she realized later, he’s an adrenaline junkie. He lives for these kinds of moments.

But at that moment, all her focus was on the road as Thorne sped through the streets, heading as fast as the car could go for the highway. In minutes, a police car was on their tail. Thorne pressed the pedal harder.

“How did this even happen?” Cress gasped, trying in vain to take her mind off the sirens behind them.

“Someone called 911 before I was done. I didn’t notice the phone until too late. Stupid mistake on my part.”

“You know,” She suggested, the seatbelt holding her tight against the seat as they screamed around a turn, “You could have just bought a signal blocker beforehand, that way nobody could call at all.”

“A what?”

“A signal blocker. They’re super cheap at like, any electronics store. Hell, I could have done it for you. It’s not that hard; it was one of the first hacker-y things I learned.”

Thorne turned to her with a grin. “You can do that?!”

“Yes. Eyes on the road!”

Many terrifying minutes later, they’d shaken off the police tail and made it to the freeway. Thorne’s smile was huge, and his attitude was becoming infectious.

“That was awesome! We totally knocked them off our trail!”

Cress chuckled awkwardly. “Yep. Except now we’re both wanted criminals.”

Thorne raised an eyebrow. “Both?”

Cress flushed. “Yeah, these windows aren’t tinted. They probably all saw me, and now I’m an accomplice to robbery.”

“Well then, Goldilocks, I think it might be time to show you my post-heist ritual.”

Thorne waved off her questions for another half hour, before he deemed it safe enough to get off the freeway and find a gas station. They parked and headed inside, keeping their heads down and both wearing hoodies. (This was the first of many of Thorne’s hoodies Cress stole).

In the abandoned bathroom, Thorne finally showed her what he was talking about. His hair, naturally a golden brown, was dyed black, and the stubble he’d been growing was shaved off as well.

Then it was her turn.

“Cut or dye?” Thorne asked, holding scissors in one hand and a box dye in the other.

She twisted a strand of her long, golden hair around a finger. Goldilocks. He called her Goldilocks. She liked that.

“Cut.”

“Awesome. I’m a great hairstylist. It’s my true calling.”

“So it’s not actually crime you’re called to?” Cress snickered as he began to snip.

“Well, that too. Crime and styling hair.”

“What a combo.”

When he was done, her hair littered the floor of the bathroom. Cress couldn’t stop staring, or running her hands through it.

“Does this make you my official partner, Goldilocks?” Thorne asked with a smile.

“I think it does.”

It was nice to be a part of something.

~~~~

“I’m bored.” Cress complained, splayed out on her bed.

“Uh huh,” Thorne replied, eyes flicking through a magazine he’d snatched that morning.

“I’m tired of pickpocketing.”

“I know you are, princess,” He turned a page, still not looking at her.

“Let’s go rob somewhere.”

That sure got his attention.

“I’m sorry,” Thorne started, “But did I just hallucinate? You want to rob someplace?”

Cress sat up to look him in the eye. “I mean, I don’t want to do the actual robbing. You do that. But I haven’t been your getaway car in weeks, and I’m bored.”

Thorne gave her a thoughtful look. “It has been a while. And I am tired of not being able to afford things.”

“So let’s do it!”

Her partner in crime glanced around the shitty motel room. “Not here. We need to find a better town.”

“Well, duh.” Cress fished around in Thorne’s bag and procured the road map. “It’s gotta be a bigger town than this hole-in-the-wall kind of place.”

So that was how the rest of their night went. Searching for a town nearby that was big enough to have a variety of places to choose from. A quick jog from the freeway, preferably, and with a low rate of crime to ensure police wouldn’t be super prepared for something like this.

It took another day of pickpocketing before they had enough for food and gas money, but they did it. Set out on the road, a plan in motion. Cress almost couldn’t believe it. She was the one who suggested robbery.

That beaten-down girl from the suburbs far away was long gone now. Instead, the new Cress was in her place. The Cress that was confident in her abilities.

And, of course, the Cress who was also hopelessly in love with her best (and only) friend.

They reached the town quickly enough. They’d driven for longer hours before. However, they’d set out later than they wanted, and as such reached their destination much later than they wanted. It was almost one in the morning when they finally pulled up to a motel just outside their chosen city’s limits.

“You got any rooms?” Thorne asked the night manager through a yawn.

“Yeah, just one though.”

“Whatever, we’ll take it.”

The rest of the transaction was quick and wordless. Cress was slumped against Thorne’s side, nearly asleep on her feet. He grabbed the room key and they trudged to the room, both half-asleep.

He unlocked the door. They stepped inside, just like they had dozens of motel rooms.

This one, however, was markedly different.

Instead of their regular two beds, this one only had one.

Taking in the scene, Cress woke up a bit, stiffening slightly.

“Shit,” Thorne mumbled, “This isn’t right.”

“It’s the last room available,” Cress reminded him.

“Right. Okay, I’ll take the floor. Just toss me one of those pillows and I’ll be good.”

Cress snorted. “I’m not doing that. You just drove all day. I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No way. Take the bed, Cress.”

“No, you.”

With a loud groan, Cress finally said, “Fine! We both take the bed! It’s not that big of a deal.”

Thorne’s eyes went a bit wider. Cress could feel her face start to warm. She looked away.

“I- no, that’s-”

“Goddamn it, shut up and sleep in the bed. We’re big kids, you take one half and I’ll take the other.”

And that was that. Neither bothered to change, as tired as they were, instead just slipping their shoes off and climbing into bed.

The first thing Cress noticed about sharing a bed was that it was warm. Really warm. This was fantastic, as she was always cold when she slept.

“Cress, what are you-”

“Shut up,” She sighed, as she curled herself closer to Thorne’s body, “You’re warm.”

“Oh.”

Not only was her whole body warm, but her face was burning. This was a bad idea. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Thorne was stiff in her arms, and she squirmed closer.

“Relax. I can’t sleep if you’re stiff as a board.”

“Sorry,” He whispered. He became a little less tense, which Cress decided was good enough.

In minutes, they were fast asleep.

~~~~

Cress woke up cold. Which totally sucked, because she’d gone to bed nice and warm. When she cracked open her eyes, she noticed that the bed was markedly empty.

Sitting up, she looked around for Thorne, but caught no sight of him. She sat up further, looking over the edge of the bed.

Oh.

He was sleeping on the floor, snoring very quietly. He took the scratchy blanket the motel provided, along with one of the towels and a pillow, and had made himself a place on the floor.

Cress’s face positively burned. Burying her face in her pillow, she let out a silent scream of embarrassment and frustration.

She’d thought into it too much. Of course he didn’t like her like that, why would he? She was just some random girl he’d picked up off the road, the brains of his criminal operation. He wasn’t secretly in love with her. He never was.

It was early. And she was still tired. But just to make sure she didn’t wake him up, Cress slipped into the bathroom to have the cry she so desperately needed, before tiptoeing back to bed and falling asleep once more.

She woke up many hours later, to the sun shining bright into her face. Thorne was awake, she determined by the shadow moving about the room.

“Hey there, Goldilocks,” Thorne chuckled, “Was that bed just right for you?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” She replied, not meeting his gaze. “What time is it?”

He snorted again. “Noon.”

“Damn.”

He tossed her a bag, which she caught quickly. “Lunch. Or, for you, breakfast.”

She couldn’t help the small laugh at that. “Thanks.”

The day passed slowly after that. Cress showered, thankful for the hot water to rinse off the grime and the feelings of the past few days. She and Thorne watched shitty reality TV that was on at three pm, laughing when he got way too into Say Yes to the Dress. Finally, they couldn’t ignore the rumbling of their stomachs anymore, and decided to go find dinner.

Of course, in order to get dinner, they needed money. Something they were in short supply of. Time to work the crowd again.

They had morals about who they pickpocketed. Or, really, Cress did. If she wasn’t around she was sure Thorne would definitely be an old lady purse-snatcher. But he always made sure to only steal from well-off people ever since Cress joined him.

Her gaze followed a man dresses in nice clothes from where they sat on a bench, Thorne’s arm slung over her shoulder in an effort to look casual. She nudged him, pointing at the target with her eyes.

“Nah, that Rolex is fake. He’s only pretending to be rich. But that guy over there-” He pointed out someone else, and Cress started up the act.

“Sir!” She chirped brightly, stepping directly in his path. The man started, taking in the tiny girl before him.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m trying to find my cousin, have you seen him?”

The man glanced around. “What does he look like?”

Cress stood on her tiptoes, gesturing as she spoke, “About this high, same hair and eyes as me. I just saw him, I don’t know how I got lost!”

From behind the man, Thorne gave her a conspiratorial wink as he plucked the wallet from his back pocket. The look was clear. Keep working him.

“I saw him over there last, do you see him? It’s hard to see with this crowd.” She pointed away, keeping his attention elsewhere as Thorne rifled through the wallet, stuffing bills and coins in his own pockets.

“No, I’m really sorry. Maybe try calling him.” The man gave her a smile, and began to walk away. As he retreated, Cress spotted the bulge in his back pocket, where the empty wallet had been replaced.

“Thanks for your help, mister!”

She turned to Thorne as they made their way to a more secluded corner of the street, “How’d we do?”

“Great, actually! That guy had a lot of cash on him. Let’s go eat.”

As they walked, Cress was suddenly aware of Thorne grabbing her hand, holding her close. She glanced up at him, heart pounding.

He just smiled. “Wouldn’t want to lose you for real.”

~~~~

“Drive!” Thorne shouted, slinging his whole body into the car.

“But-” Cress protested.

“DRIVE!”

“Okay, okay, geez!” Cress pressed the gas, but Thorne sat up behind her.

“Faster! Cops will be here any minute!”

Cress’s heart was in her throat as she sped up. “But I blocked the signal.”

“And you said it yourself, it only holds for as long as the satellite is in position, which it will be out of any time! We’ve gotta go! Faster!”

So Cress went faster. At Thorne’s instruction, she did her best to throw off the tail of anyone who could be following. Screaming around turns, suddenly going back the way she just came, tearing through alleyways and side streets. She ran every red light she could, narrowly avoiding accidents multiple times.

“Maybe you should drive,” She suggested after a few minutes, but Thorne shook his head with a smile.

“Nah, you’re pretty good at this. I knew you had it in you.”

Eventually, they made it out of town, a bag full of stolen cash and goods. Thorne took over driving, but only after Cress stopped the car and demanded it.

“So, you hungry?”

“Huh?”

“Are you hungry?” Thorne repeated. “You did great today. You deserve a treat.” After a glance at a sign on the road, he asked, “Does Sonic sound good?”

“I guess. I’ve never had it.”

His jaw dropped. “You’ve never had it? Jesus Christ, your life is sad.”

Cress wrapped her arms around herself, glancing down. Thorne seemed to realize his mistake. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine,” Cress lied, not meeting his eyes. “Let’s get this Sonic thing or whatever.”

“You’re gonna love it, Goldilocks. Promise.”

He was right. She did love it. And as they sat, eating greasy fast food beneath the stars, the earlier argument was forgiven and soon forgotten.

Cress promised herself that night that her life would never be sad, not ever again.

~~~~

“This is literally the worst idea, idiot,” Cress groaned, standing awkwardly outside a place she really didn’t belong: The local liquor store.

“Relax, it’s fine,” Thorne assured her, hauling along a case of White Claws. “You’re eighteen, that’s old enough to have a little drink, I think.”

“You’re not even old enough to legally buy it!” She protested.

He smirked, waving a little card with his other hand. “Fake ID, blondie.”

They made their way back to their motel, still arguing.

“We’re going to be here for a while during the planning part! We can at least have a little fun! It’s not like I’m going to a bar or anything.”

“Yeah, but if the cashier knew it was a fake ID and called the police, everything could be done for!”

His eyes narrowed. “Wait. So you’re not against the principle of underage drinking itself, but rather the fact we could get caught?”

She looked away. “I mean, it’s whatever.”

When the door was locked, Thorne opened up the case and cracked one open. “I like the lime ones the best. You’ll probably like the lemonade one better. Or maybe the raspberry. They’re sweeter.”

Glancing between the curtains and the blinds shut tight, Cress assured herself that nobody was outside, nobody was watching. With a sigh, she opened up a White Claw of her own. “You’ve thoroughly corrupted me, Carswell Thorne.”

“It’s what I do best, sweetheart.”

That was a new one.

They got a little planning done as they drank, but as the night wore on, and they both indulged themselves in another drink, then another, they started caring less and less about the upcoming heist.

Cress noticed she felt different by White Claw number two, but had another, just because she wanted to try all the flavors. Lemonade so far was the best, raspberry a close second. Mango, despite being a good flavor on its own, was actually disgusting. And Thorne had claimed all the limes for himself.

Everything around her was fuzzy. It felt like she was swimming in her own head. And everything was also really funny, too. At one point Thorne burped loudly, and while normally Cress would have groaned and scolded him, this time she began to giggle hysterically.

Thorne shot her a concerned glance. “Okay there, Goldilocks?”

Cress snickered. “You’re funny.”

“Right. And you are drunk. How many-” She noticed his eyes widen at the two empty cans, and the one in her hand. “Shit, Cress, that’s enough.”

He snatched the can from her, and she flopped onto the floor, still laughing. “Everything’s so spinny, Thorne.”

“Yeah, I’m getting you some water. Stay right there.”

“Sir yes sir,” She slurred, then giggled at her own voice.

Water began to run in the little bathroom. What had Thorne said about water again? Curious, she pulled herself up, then stumbled towards the sound.

He doing something at the sink. Cress slipped behind him, then in a sudden burst of immense confidence, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his strong back.

“Cress?” His voice came out almost strangled. “What are you doing?”

“You’re warm,” She mumbled. “I like hugging you.”

Thorne sighed. “Not that I don’t like hugging you too, you need some water, maybe some Advil, and then you need to go to bed.”

He tried to pull away, but Cress held on tighter. “Noooo, don’t leave,” She whined.

Thorne managed to maneuver himself so instead of being wrapped around his back, she was facing him, chest to chest. “C’mon, Goldilocks, drink some water.”

She gave him her infamous puppy dog eyes, but he shoved the glass in her face. “Drink up.”

“You’re mean,” She muttered, but did as he said and drained the glass. She looked up again, her blue eyes meeting his own. “You didn’t wanna be my snuggle partner last night, and I got cold.”

Thorne looked away, and if she wasn’t so buzzed, Cress might have noticed the blush.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay? Can you dress yourself?”

She definitely had too much liquid courage. “You could help me, if you wanted.”

Thorne pulled away. “No thanks. You seem capable enough. He stepped out of the bathroom, and passed her a pair of pajamas from the outside. “Drink some more water while you’re at it.”

When she opened the door again, she instantly latched onto him again. “Cress,” He chuckled awkwardly, “I can’t move.”

“Then you can’t leave,” She murmured. For some reason she felt really sad now, almost to the point of tears. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never, Goldilocks. Let’s get you to bed.”

He tried to move, but Cress held tighter. “You’re gonna have to drag me,” She warned.

“Not a problem.” In one motion, Thorne swept her off her feet, literally. Carrying her bridal style, her arms wrapped over his shoulders, he carried her effortlessly to the bed. The single bed, that they both shared.

She was laid down on the bed gently, but Cress refused to let go. “Don’t leave me,” She whispered, over and over again. With nowhere else to go, Thorne finally gave in and laid down with her, letting the smaller woman curl against him.

“Goodnight, Cress.”

Her eyes were heavy, but she looked at him anyway. “You always kiss my head goodnight.”

His face flushed harder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She unlatched one hand, tapping the top of her own head. “Right here. Almost every night.”

He couldn’t resist the puppy dog eyes again, she knew. With a sigh, he leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss on top of her head. Cress gave a happy sigh, and settled down on the pillow.

Neither of them moved all night.

~~~~

Everything hurt the next morning. Her stomach, her joints, her head.

“What in the fuck happened last night?” She mumbled into the shoulder of the person next to her.

The… person in the bed with her.

Cress shot up violently, instantly regretting it as her head throbbed harder. The person the shoulder belonged to groaned, opening up their eyes. Their familiar eyes.

“I feel like shit,” She sighed, as Thorne sat up next to her.”

He chuckled. “I kinda guessed that you would. You overindulged, princess.”

Things were coming back in bits and pieces, though everything was still fuzzy. “Why’d I have so much?”

“You wanted to try all the flavors.”

Right. “Mango tastes like shit,” She lamented, “I’m never drinking again.”

“Then who’s going to help me finish off the case?” Thorne chuckled.

“I would have helped you with the limes if you didn’t hog them all for yourself.”

“Princess, if I let you have a fourth you would have woken up in the hospital.”

“No, not a fourth, I mean instead of the nasty mango-”

Suddenly, as she leaned closer, Thorne winced, and backed away. “Whoa. Hangover breath. You need a shower.”

Cress’s face flushed. “Yeah. I’ll go do that.”

As she washed off the feeling of last night’s mistakes, more memories came back. But not quite everything. She was still missing a chunk: why she and Thorne had woken up in the same bed, after he’d left her alone the night before.

She got dressed, brushed her teeth, and drank some more water, before stepping out of the bathroom with the towel still wrapped around her dripping hair. Thorne stood up to take his own shower, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Hey, did… anything�� happen, last night? I can’t remember everything, and if I said something weird-”

“Nah,” Thorne replied with a shrug, “You just got giggly, then suddenly weepy and clingy. You were really set on me not leaving you alone.”

She ducked her head, blushing. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Thorne assured her. “I mean, you’ve never been drunk before, it’s not your fault you didn’t know how you’d respond.” With that, he stepped away, into the bathroom, which was soon filled with the sound of running water.

Cress sighed, glancing around the motel room. Last night’s activities had left it trashed. So while she waited, she cleaned up.

About twenty minutes later, they were both back in the car, on their way for some coffee. Thorne had even decided to get black coffee for once, in an effort to ward away the hangover.

“So…” He started awkwardly, and Cress’s heart stopped. What was he going to say? Had she really embarrassed herself last night?

“You wanna talk about why you were so obsessed with me not leaving? I mean, I know before all this your life was pretty shitty, so I get it if you don’t want to talk, but-”

“My dad left when I was seven.” She stated simply.

“Oh.”

They got their coffee, and headed back to the motel. Thorne met her eyes again with another awkward smile. “You also seemed pretty upset that I slept on the floor the other night.”

Heat rushed to her face. “It’s not that big of a deal, it doesn’t matter that much.”

“Drunk Cress had other things to say.”

She didn’t answer.

Back inside the room, Thorne spoke up. “You wanna know why I slept on the floor?”

She shrugged. “It’s whatever. It’s fine if it was too much or something. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His blue eyes got big. “No, no, that’s not what happened. Look, Cress, have you ever slept with anybody before?”

“What?!” Her entire face went red, and Thorne’s did as well, when he realized his words.

“Shit, no, not like that. I mean have you ever shared a bed with somebody before?”

“Oh. No, I haven’t.”

“Listen, Cress.” Thorne leaned in close, and her heartbeat somehow sped up and stopped at the same time. “I liked sleeping in the same bed as you. But…”

Oh no.

“You kick. Like, a lot.”

What?

Cress nearly spat out her coffee. “That’s why you slept on the floor?!”

“Yes!” Thorne laughed. “It was all fine and dandy until you kicked me in the groin at three in the morning!”

Her face fell into her hands. “Oh my God.”

“And I mean, I had to save the boys-”

“Shut up! Stop talking!” Thorne gave a loud cackle, and Cress gave into her own hysterical laughter. “That’s what this was all about?”

Things fell back into place easily after that. In fact, they seemed to fall further into place. They plotted and they schemed, searching out their target and making their plan. They never went in blind, and they weren’t about to start now.

And when they slept, they slept in the same bed. Thorne tucked her into his chest, arms holding her steady, and she never felt cold or alone while she slept. To keep from kicking, Cress twined their legs together.

Neither mentioned the obvious shift in their relationship. But they both knew it was growing deeper by the day. They woke up in each others’ arms. Thorne came up behind her randomly during the day to wrap himself around her waist and rest his head on her shoulder. He kissed her head before they slept each night. Cress was never asleep.

The day came, the day they’d been planning for weeks. They were ready. Whatever happened today, they knew that no matter what, they’d always have each other at the end of the day.

~~~~

“Cress, you read me?”

Sitting in the car, ready and waiting for his voice, Cress replied, “I read you. How’d it go?”

“Without a hitch! Incoming in about three minutes.”

“I got you, captain.”

“Ooh,” Thorne chuckled over the speaker, “I like that.”

Cress rolled her eyes. “Focus on running, doofus. I’ll be there.”

“Mwah!” The line went dead, and Cress tossed the burner phone like she always did. She arrived at the rendezvous in two minutes, eight seconds, leaving the doors unlocked for their quick exit.

Thirty-four seconds later, and the familiar sight of Thorne running for his life arrived. With a wild grin, he threw himself and the bag inside, and Cress sped away. At this point, she was an expert at losing the police.

“How much?”

“Close to five thousand!” He beamed. “It’s gonna last us a long time!”

“You’re fantastic,” She grinned back.

“Nah, sweetheart, it’s all you. I’d totally be in jail by now if I hadn’t met you.”

“I mean,” Cress giggled as she sped out to the freeway, “Prison’s always still on the table.”

“Then don’t get us caught, blondie.”

“You wanna stop at a gas station and change your look?”

Thorne glanced in the mirror, seeing they weren’t being followed. “No, I think the ski mask was enough. Plus, I wore the lifts in my shoes just like you said, so they can’t see my real height.”

“Cool. So, where to now?”

Thorne leaned back in his seat. “Wherever your heart desires, milady.”

Cress smiled softly, finding his hand over the center console. “Okay. Let’s go.”

~~~~

They switched cars that night, then kept driving. The adrenaline was keeping Cress going, even as Thorne finally dozed off. She’d forgotten how good that rush felt. Thorne had fully turned her into an adrenaline junkie, the same as him.

During the planning phase, they plotted their escape route thoroughly. There were multiple directions to exit, and they scoped each one out to see what worked the best. In the process, she’d looked extensively at the road map. And for whatever reason, the tiny, blip-on-the-map town called Farafrah was calling to her.

So that was where she went. It wasn’t too far away, but far enough that they’d be safe from the police of the other city. They could lay low for a bit before continuing on. There were so many other places to go. Cress wanted to see it all.

This time, it was Cress who drove through and got dinner. Cress who rented the motel room for the night. And it was Cress who urged Thorne out of the car and inside. Where the single bed was waiting.

They had their routine down pat. They rinsed off, even though it was eleven o’clock, changed into pajamas, and settled down for the night. Cress curled into Thorne’s side, her safe place.

“Goodnight.” Tonight, his kiss was on her forehead. And tonight, it lingered. Cress was smiling as she fell asleep.

Many hours later, she was woken up by another gentle kiss to her head. “C’mon princess, you’ve had enough beauty sleep.”

She rolled over, a contented smile on her face, even if she had to squint at the light coming in through the curtains. “Morning,” she whispered, voice raspy from sleep.

“I’ve found a nice brunch spot. I think you deserve something nice after everything yesterday.”

Cress sat up, scrubbing the sleep from her eyes. “You spoil me.”

“You know it, Goldilocks. I bet this place is gonna be just right.”

That earned him a pillow to the face, Cress rolling her eyes. “You doofus.”

“OH! I’ve been mortally wounded by my dear lady!” Thorne groaned from the floor. Cress peered over at him, only to have the pillow chucked back at her head.

“You don’t know what you’ve just started,” She warned with a smile. Within seconds they were in a full on pillow fight, flinging pillows bath and forth as they screamed with laughter.

After a few minutes Thorne managed to get the upper hand, smacking her right across the face with a pillow. Cress was knocked down on the bed, and he pinned her down with a laugh. A moment later his fingers found purchase under her arms, and he tickled her until she squealed.

“Stop! Stop! I forfeit!” Cress giggled, squirming away. Thorne was panting with laughter, still sitting on top of her.

“Learned your lesson, princess?”

She smacked his face with another pillow and escaped to the bathroom with her clothes.

Finally, nearly half an hour after she woke up- a new low for the duo who could get up and out in three minutes- they made their way to a little brunch spot in the middle of the littler town.

Their waitress was a woman about their age with a prosthetic hand named Cinder. She had a lot of personality, and had enough sarcasm to rival each of Thorne’s witty remarks.

About halfway through the meal (which was delicious), a little idea began to form in Cress’s mind. When Cinder came back to refill their drinks, Cress decided to ask her a question.

“How’d you end up here?”

The waitress shrugged. “Car broke down. Stayed to get it fixed, ended up making some friends and decided to stay. I could ask the same of you two.”

Thorne and Cress glanced at each other, before Cress replied simply, “Travelling through.”

Later, when she came back to deliver the check, Cress asked another question: “If you could do anything with your life, what would it be?”

Both Thorne and the waitress gave her a quizzical look. Thankfully, neither asked for elaboration. Instead, Cinder donned a slightly puzzled look as she thought.

Finally, she responded, “I want to open up a mechanical repair shop. For all kinds of machines.” Her dark eyes lit up as she began to ramble a little bit, about all the kinds of things she could do, what she could learn. But after a minute, her voice took on a slightly somber tone. “But, that’s not gonna happen. I’m always worrying about rent nowadays, I don’t have enough to save for anything.”

“How much is your rent?” Cress continued. The waitress stiffened.

“Why do you want to know?” She asked suspiciously.

Cress squeaked, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, but…” She scrambled for a quick lie.

Thankfully, Thorne picked it up for her. “We’re thinking of moving here. We just wanted to know how much rent was.”

Cinder relaxed. “Oh. Well, it’s about $600 a month.”

Cress smiled, taking the check from their waitress. “Thanks, Cinder. It was great. We’ll fill this out in a minute.”

Clearly dismissed, the woman offered them a smile before departing. When they were alone again, Thorne turned a questioning gaze over to her. “What was that all about?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. I just… wanted to know. She seemed nice.”

“I agree. I’ll give her a good tip.”

Cress’s smile got big. “Wait, let me run back to the car real quick. I want to give her a big tip.”

She came back just two minutes later, her pockets stuffed. Thorne’s eyes got big. “How big a tip do you mean?!”

Cress methodically smoothed the $50 bills out, keeping them out of sight below the table. She tied the stack with a hairtie she kept on her wrist, and stuck it inside the little checkbook left on the table. Just to make sure they were really clear, she scribbled out on the receipt, “The money is for the meal. The rest is for you. Good luck.”

Primly, Cress stood up, brushing her leggings off. She offered her hand to the man sitting next to her, whose jaw was pretty much on the floor. Almost in a daze, he took it, and she led him out to the car.

Finally, back in the motel, Thorne rounded on her. “What the hell, Cress?! How much money did you give her? A thousand? Two?”

“Two thousand.”

“What the fuck! Why?!”

“Because,” Cress took his hand, looking deep into his blue eyes, “She needed it. More than we do, really. Thorne, whenever we run low on money we pickpocket and we steal and we rob. That girl, she’s too good for any of that. And if something like that didn’t happen, she was going to spend the rest of her life stuck in that restaurant, in this town in the middle of nowhere where she’d never grow.”

Thorne sighed heavily, rubbing the back of her hand with her thumb. “I wish you’d at least told me before you did it.”

“Why?”

That gave him pause. “I guess… we’ve been so in sync for months now. I feel like I know you, Cress, more than I’ve ever known anyone. And yet, I had no idea you were nice enough to just give away two thousand dollars to a stranger.”

She smiled up at him. “You’re that nice too, Thorne.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

Cress gave his hand a little squeeze. “If you weren’t that nice, you’d have taken the money back. You like to pretend you’re this big bad hardened criminal, but you’re still good, deep down. You show me that every day.”

At that, he pulled her in for a hug. “It’s because of you, Cress. Blondie. Goldilocks. Princess. Every day, you remind me that there’s still good in the world. Even if it’s not us doing the good. But you… you make me want to be good.”

Cress might have been crying. Thorne was definitely crying, his tears falling into her golden hair. “You saved me. Carswell Thorne, you saved my life that night. I always dreamed when I was little that someday I’d be saved. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

Thorne pulled away, still holding her, still sniffling. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Cress. I hope you know that.”

“I hope you know you’re the same to me.”

~~~~

They decided to stick around in Farafrah for a few more days. They had a bit more money to burn on fun before they got moving again and needed to get back in the swing of their criminal ways. The pair spent the day exploring the little down, taking in the sights. And at night, they cuddled in bed, watching whatever happened to be on TV until they got so tired their eyes were falling closed.

It was the morning of their second day when the objective suddenly changed.

Thorne came into the room, bringing coffee and croissants with him. As well, he’d managed to procure a local newspaper, which he handed to Cress alongside her breakfast.

The pair sat in comfortable silence for about twenty minutes, simply basking in the other’s presence as they ate. When she finished with her croissant, Cress opened up the paper.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

“Cress?” Thorne glanced over when he heard the soft gasp. “What’s wrong?”

Wordlessly, she passed him the paper, pointing out an article. It wasn’t hard to miss, in big, bold letter along the top: LOCAL ANIMAL SHELTER UNDER INVESTIGATION DUE TO CLAIMS OF ABUSE AND NEGLIGENCE.

“Shit,” Thorne muttered, “That’s awful.”

“Those poor animals,” Cress lamented with a sad sigh. “I wish we could do something about it.”

For Thorne, he thought that was the end of it. He headed out to go explore some more, but Cress opted to stay behind. He didn’t think too much of it; she was a fairly antisocial personality and had done a whole lot of talking to strangers the past few days. She probably just needed a day to herself to recharge.

What he didn’t expect, however, was to come back several hours later to find empty coffee cups and a couple RedBull cans strewn about, and Cress hunched over her laptop looking nearly frantic.

“Whoa, what’s all this?” She glanced up, and Thorne took a step back. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot.

“Thorne. I’ve got it! I know how we can do something! We can save all those animals! Come here!”

Cautiously, he took a few steps closer. Cress grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him over. She was surprising strong for someone so petite.

And what he saw pulled up on her screen…

HOW TO MAKE A HOMEMADE BOMB

“Whoa! Cress, slow down!”

“But I figured it out! Sit down, I’ll go over it with you!”

He yanked his arm away. “Cress. Look at me. Listen to me. We cannot blow people up because they might be abusing some shelter animals.”

Her blue eyes hardened. “Well, that isn’t the plan. We’re not blowing up people. Even if they deserve it.”

“When did you get so violent all of a sudden?” He took another glance around the room. “I’m never letting you have a RedBull ever again.”

“But-”

“No. No bombs. The police will take care of whatever’s going on with the shelter.”

Cress gestured around the room, almost violently. “How can we trust that?! The police haven’t caught us yet.”

Thorne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. What the hell. Tell me your plan.”

She almost squealed with delight, but he cut in- “That doesn’t mean we’ll do it though. And if you go solo and get caught, I’m not bailing you out for your own mistakes. We don’t bomb. We rob.”

“Okayokayokay, listen up. Here’s how it goes…”

~~~~

It was exactly two months since they’d met, and the new duo had just completed their third heist. They’d robbed a fast food joint after it closed. Cress was really good at finessing the alarms so they didn’t sound as they emptied the registers.

Now, they were still driving. It was late, and Thorne was beginning to doze off. He needed to find a rest stop soon, or risk running them right off the road.

As for Cress, she was quickly headed in the same direction. Her head would tilt forward as she fell asleep, just for a few seconds, then rapidly jerk back, and she’d go back to fighting sleep.

“You can sleep, you know, blondie,” Thorne offered. “I’m looking for a rest stop so we can sleep for a bit.”

“But you’re driving,” She protested through a yawn, “I don’t want you to be alone.”

He cracked a smile at that. “I’m not alone. I’ve got you now.”

“No, but-” Another yawn- “You won’t have anyone to talk to. I’ve gotta keep you awake so you don’t kill us both.”

“I’m not gonna kill us both.”

Her eyes flicked up, out the windshield. “You’re drifting.”

“Shit.” She was right. He rubbed at his eyes, wishing they’d stopped at that gas station a few miles back to grab an energy drink. The rest stop was about two miles ahead, but Thorne was really beginning to struggle.

“Can’t fall asleep…” Cress mumbled, just as her head tilted forward again. Thorne snorted when, once again, she jerked up with a groan of frustration.

“Just sleep, Cress,” Thorne urged gently. “We’re almost there, I promise.”

She gave a cursory glance out the car, seeming to check and make sure he was still driving correctly. Finally, after another long minute, her head titled. She was falling asleep again.

This time, however, she dozed off with her head against his shoulder.

Maybe it was the time of night. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. But for whatever reason, having Cress against his shoulder, safe and sleeping, felt right. More right than anything else had in his nineteen years of life.

They made it to the rest stop ten minutes later. Thorne pulled off to the side and put the car in park before turning it off. Cress snoozed on.

Finally, he could relax. Thorne leaned back with a contented sigh, smiling a bit to himself as Cress nestled further against him.

He wrapped an arm over her shoulder, keeping her close by. And, for whatever reason, that felt right too.

Maybe it was the same reason that caused him to plant a tiny, barely-there kiss to the top of her golden head.

Yeah. It was just the sleep deprivation, for sure.

~~~~

They were doing this. They were actually doing this. Thorne was going crazy. Why had he agreed to this again, exactly? He shot a glance at the blonde woman at his side.

Right. Her. Since when had his judgement been so addled around her?

Always, idiot, his brain reminded him.

Shut up, brain.

They were inside the largely-contested Farafrah Animal Shelter. The same one that was under investigation for abuse and negligence.

Holding his hand, Cress smiled brightly at the man leading them among the cages. Her other hand gripped the straps of her purse. To everyone else, the smile was genuine, but to Thorne, who knew her best, it was as fake as could possibly be.

“And these are all of our felines we have at the moment. Do any of them possibly interest you?”

Cress shot Thorne a smile, this one a bit more real. “Let’s look around, darling, shall we?”

“Of course, my dear.” He gave her his best impression of an adoring look. Little did he know it was about as real as it could get.

“I’ll give you two a moment. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

Cress squeezed his hand harder and dragged him to the farthest cage in the room. As they passed cage after cage, they saw the same things they had with the dogs: matted fur, frightened animals, some so scrawny their ribs were evident even from a distance. Neglect. It was bad. They reached the end of the room, and Cress took a glance inside the cage they stood next to.

Instantly, her face lit up as she took in the cat. It was a black and white thing, scrawny really, the nametag reading “Boots”.

“He’s so cute!”

“No.”

“But-”

“That’s not why we came,” Thorne sighed, making sure the man was really gone.

Cress sighed. “But he’s so cute. And wouldn’t it be nice to have a little companion?”

“A cat? As a roadtrip companion?”

“A cat is better to your criminal look, you know. So you can turn around in a chair dramatically while stroking his fur and say ‘I’ve been expecting you’.”

Thorne rolled his eyes. “Life’s not a TV drama, princess.”

“Life is its own drama! Make it your own!”

“How would we even take care of a cat on the road?”

Cress dragged him closer to the cage. “Just look at him. Look at his sad little face. He’d be the perfect roadtrip cat. I just know it.”

Thorne opened his mouth to protest again, but then the black and white furball gave a plaintive mewl and all the thoughts left his brain.

“Okay… he’s kind of cute… I guess.”

Cress nearly squealed with delight. “He is! Besides, think about it; we need a plan to get into the office. It’s the perfect ruse!”

Boots the cat meowed again. “You wanna go commit crimes with us, buddy?” Thorne asked.

“Meow!”

“He says yes,” Cress whispered conspiratorially in his ear. “Let’s get him.”

As they walked to the office, Thorne hung his head in defeat. “I can’t believe I just let you talk me into getting a crime cat.”

The blonde had a bounce in her step, swinging their joined hands delightedly. “You’re fully at my disposal.” Oh, she didn’t know how right she was.

It took a few minutes to reach the office from the kennels, but they both knew that. Cress had hacked the blueprints for the building several days ago, and they’d both memorized them from top to bottom. The offices were the furthest away from the kennels, likely to keep the noise down.

Finally, they reached their destination. Cress knocked politely on the door, bringing out her most innocent look. The one that always served the perfect distraction while Thorne expertly stole their wallet.

The man answered the door after one knock. “Have you made a decision?”

Cress and Thorne locked eyes, then turned back an nodded in unison. “We have.”

The paperwork was extensive, and Thorne was sure he had to sign his name at least a hundred times. He made sure to read carefully, though; Cress had warned him about possible legal traps. By law, animals shelters were required to vaccinate all their animals before adoption, and strongly push the idea of neutering. But in the paperwork, vaccines were of no mention. The entire time, the man simply sat silently with a small serpentine smile.

Finally, after the paperwork was signed and handed back, the man stood, offering Thorne a hand to shake, which he took reluctantly. “I’ll go pick up your new lovebug, okay?”

“May I come with you? Please?” Cress employed the puppy dog eyes. They were about eighty percent effective on Thorne, and that was after he spent months working to resist them. The man stood no chance.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

“I can’t wait! Darling, hold my purse; I want to hold the precious kitty.”

The man herded Cress out of the room, leaving Thorne to sit quietly by himself.

Or so he thought.

When he was sure they were gone, the young man sprung into action. Inside Cress’s purse was a small package, hardly bigger than his hand. A homemade bomb she’d spent days researching. It was activated by a remote control, so it could be jostled as much as he desired and still wouldn’t explode.

It was important it was planted in the office. They would detonate it after hours, so no people would be injured, and it was far enough away to keep the animals unharmed. Their only goal was to make the place unusable, which would then force the animals to be relocated to other shelters where they’d hopefully receive better care.

Thorne moved quickly and efficiently, like he always did with his missions. There was a reason he was such a successful robber; he didn’t get distracted, and he always got the job done. After a minute of rifling around the room, he settle on hiding the bomb in a bookshelf on the far wall. This office’s wall was also an outside wall, so it was nowhere near another living soul. Perfect.

Five minutes later, the pair returned, Cress carrying a new cat carrier. “Here he is, darling! The newest member of the family!”

The goodbyes were quick after that. They made it to the petshop part, where they bought some food and the most important part: a cat leash. They walked out with their new charge, both of them pretending to ignore the front desk lady’s comment of “such of cute couple!”.

“Phase one, complete!” Cress said with a smile, still holding his hand. In the cage, the cat, Boots, seemed to give them almost a grateful look. Almost like he was saying thanks for getting me out of there.

Thorne gave a glance behind him, to the retreating animal shelter. “Phase two in t-minus eleven hours.”

Cress leaned against him as she walked. “Aye aye, captain.”

~~~~

Phase two of their master plan commenced, as said, eleven hours later. The duo spent the next several hours getting acquainted with their new cat, whom they hadn’t even intended on buying. As it turned out, Boots was a fantastic cat. Affectionate and sweet, he warmed up to both of them instantly. And he didn’t seem to mind the car either, one of the most important factors.

Later in the evening, they packed up. Their motel room was paid for another whole day, but that was just a countermeasure. They already had a secondary vehicle in waiting, and would abandon their current one in the motel parking lot. As always, they had everything planned down to the last detail.

Now for the big finale, and the most difficult part, too. Sneak close enough to detonate the bomb, then get away fast enough to not get injured in the blast and not caught up in the investigation.

The sneaking part was easy enough. They’d done that plenty of times. Sure, Thorne had to boost her over a few fences, and they had to do some real super-spy action in a tree to get over a sleeping dog’s head, but they made it without a hitch.

The concrete walls of the animals shelter loomed before them. They tracked around it once, scanning for anyone who could get in their way, and came up empty. Time for the moment of truth.

Cress and Thorne met up at the point, the spot Cress had calculated earlier to give them the best chance of success based on the bomb’s location.

She took a deep breath. Now or never.

Silently, Thorne’s hand laced with her own. Cress held the detonator out in front of her.

And she pressed it.

~~~~

Smoke. Smoke and fire. Smoke and fire and haze and blood and pain-

“Thorne-” Cress gasped, throat rasping, “Something went wrong!”

There was no answer.

Cress suddenly became aware that she was alone. She was lying in the dirt, still gripping the detonator. And Thorne wasn’t with her.

A massive section of the wall was complete dust. Fire and smoke billowed out, clearly originating from the point where the bomb must have been. A few stray papers fluttered about, before they were quickly seized by the flames.

“Thorne?” Her voice was quiet.

“Thorne!” Louder.

“THORNE!” Cress shoved herself up, testing each limb. Everything was in working order. Despite that, she knew something was wrong, so wrong.

The explosion shouldn’t have been that big. She calculated it over and over again, even explained the math to Thorne so he could do it himself. They both got the same answer.

This was not their answer. The fire was spreading quickly. Alarms went off inside, but the spray of water was doing little to quell it.

Nearly robotically, Cress pulled her burner phone from her pocket. She and Thorne had gotten them in case of emergency. They hadn’t expected to use it.

“911 what is your emergency?”

“There was an explosion at the animal shelter. There’s a huge fire. Hurry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Don’t let anyone get hurt. Please.”

She hung up before the operator could speak again. With all her might, she hurled the phone into the fire. By the time they found it, it would just be an unusable hunk of metal.

And then she ran.

All the scheming, all the plotting, all the plans went out the window. It was the dead of night, and Cress ran. She didn’t dare yell for Thorne; she had that much sense left. But with every step she felt it.

Something had gone horribly wrong, somehow. She must have forgotten something in her calculations. Maybe her information was wrong.

If both of them got out unscathed and unarrested, it would be a miracle, she knew it.

So lost in her own thoughts, she nearly ran face-first into someone who had stepped out onto the sidewalk. With a scream, Cress came to a screeching stop, standing and panting as she assessed the situation before her.

The woman was young, with dark hair and eyes and tan skin. And her hand… it was strange. A flash of recognition appeared in her eyes.

“Cinder…” Cress breathed. The other woman startled.

“Oh my God. It’s you.”

“I- it’s not what it looks like-” She followed Cinder’s gaze. Right to the detonator still in her hand.

“I swear, nobody was supposed to get hurt. I already called the fire department, if they get there in time they’ll save the animals-”

“Cress,” Cinder whispered, “Stop talking. Just go. If I see police I’ll cover for you. I promise.”

She stood still. Flabbergasted. “W-why would you do that?”

Cinder shrugged. “Because I know you’re a good person. Maybe you’ve got a convoluted way of showing it, but you’re good. Besides,” she cracked a tiny smile, “It’s thanks to you I might have a shot at my dreams.”

Then her voice took on a note of sudden seriousness. “Get out of here. The Farafrah police are no joke. Take the back alleys.”

Cress nodded numbly. “I will, I just have to find Thorne first.”

Cinder stepped closer, pulling her into a sudden hug. “Thank you. Both you and your dummy boyfriend.”

Cress found herself blushing, despite the situation. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

The other woman smirked. “He should be. He’s madly in love with you. He’d move the heavens and earth for you. Maybe consider telling him how you feel. Of course, after you’ve gotten out of here.”

“Right.” Cress chuckled. “Bye, Cinder. It was lovely meeting you.”

With that final goodbye, Cress began to sprint. Just as Cinder suggested, she took the back alleys. Thorne would be okay. He had to be. He’s okay. He has to be.

By the time she made it to the abandoned parking lot, the rendezvous point, police sirens had joined the firetrucks. The stolen red car… it was on! Idling in one place, waiting for her.

“Cress!” Thorne shouted, flinging the door open and throwing himself at her. He pulled her into his strong arms, pressing his face against her soot-stained hair. “God, I was so worried. I couldn’t see you in the dark so I headed back here. I was just about to go searching.”

Cress didn’t want to let go of him. Not now, not ever. But… “We’ve gotta go.”

“I know,” Thorne breathed, “But I was just so worried. It made me think… what if I lost you?”

She pulled back, just slightly, just enough to see his face in the dark. “What do you mean.”

“I mean, I started to think about you, Cress. How much I’d miss you. And how much I’d regret it if I lost you, and I hadn’t even done this…”

His voice trailed off, and Cress was about to ask what on earth he meant, when suddenly his lips were on hers.

Carswell Thorne is kissing me. Kissing. Me.

Her brain might have short-circuited, just a bit. But after a moment of frozen hesitation, she was kissing him back with just as much fervor, taking his face in her hands to pull them impossibly closer.

Thorne’s head tilted, and their lips fit together like they were always meant that way. His hands stroked at her golden hair, the hair he loved to much. What the hell; the girl he loved so much.

He might have told her as much when they finally came up for air, and she might have said it back. But all words were forgotten moments later, when they both spotted the flashing lights in their peripherals.

A police car, heading to the scene. If they were seen…

“Hey,” Cress whispered, beaming so wide her face hurt as she tugged on Thorne’s sleeve, “How about you be my getaway car for a change?”

“Yeah?”

She stood on her tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Risky, in their situation. “Yeah.”

Thorne brought her hand, so small and delicate, to his lips. “For you, Cress, you know I’d do anything. Crime for the sake of crime. Crime for the sake of justice. Whatever it is, wherever life takes us, just know that you’ll always have me. I promise I’ll never let you feel alone, ever again.”

He stroked a stray tear from her face. “C’mon, Goldilocks. It’s time to make our grand exit.”

She made herself comfortable in the passenger seat, glancing where she knew the gun lay, tucked inside the glovebox, just for show, never loaded. The gun that saved her life.

Thorne tore out of the parking lot, speeding down the streets of the tiny town at three am, just begging to be chased as they passed the animal shelter. The fire was nearly out, animals being evacuated by the second.

She caught his gaze with her own. Blue on blue. “Police chase, huh?”

He smiled, gripping her hand in his own. “You know I like to show off.”

Sirens blared behind them. Cress’s grin grew. “Then let’s give them a show.”

Thorne leaned down and kissed her over the center console. “I thought you’d never ask.”

~~~~

a/n: Oh my gosh. I cannot believe I just wrote that. All that. I haven't written in a month and this felt fantastic!!! I hope y'all enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are so appreciated! <3

#mal's fics #the lunar chronicles #tlc #marissa meyer #cress darnel #carswell thorne #cresswell #cress x thorne #tlc au #tlc ship weeks 2021 #tlc ship weeks

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pufflocks · 4 years ago

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Summary: You and Aran go to a smoke circle with some friends in matching outfits. During the 13th pass or so, someone brings up the mention of kinks.

Warnings: NSFW • drugs mentioned { Weed } • proof read

Cast: Top!M!Reader x Bottom!Aran

○��○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

"You trying to hit up the twins for a circle tonight ?" You ask. Scrolling through your feed, you see Atsumu and Osamu post a tag list of people on their shared account. They had been the ones who sold you and Aran's weed in highschool.

You chuckle at those memories until you a see Aran appear in your peripheral vision. With a slight grunt he sits next to you with some chinese food in his hands. Body leaning into yours as he scoots his well built form close to yours while slipping your phone out of your hands. Reading the invite in the post directed to the people tagged, he says, "Can we match with the clothes you bought last month ?" He says. Stuffing his face with a spoonful of rice.

You nod. Chuckling slightly at the thought of you and him matching during a smoke session, with friends you might add. He caught on to your entertained noises as he cocked and eyebrow. Swallowing down his food, he looked at you. "What ? Embarrassed to go out matching ?" He asked.

Rolling your eyes you lightly push him, in move of getting up. Stretching your limbs before you started to head to the kitchen.

"Where you goin' ?" Aran hollers from the living room, homebody boyfriend. You say you were going to go get your chinese, since he already ate his. He probably thought you weren't going to eat your food so he could, greedy for your food. Not this time, can never smoke on an empty stomach.

You zipped up your jeans. "Ow-! Fuck !" You look behind you to see that your boyfriend was tearing out the tag from the hoodie the both of you were wearing. Your hand moved to your neck on where he gripped to take the tag off. "You need to stop surprising me, I swear to god." You mumble. You hear a light chuckle as he throws it away before coming back to kick the side of your neck.

"Sorry, sorry. You would have forgotten it and or stuffed it in your hood," He says. Your phone started to buzz on your bedroom bed. Aran grabbed it because you were busy touching up your clothes in the mirror. "Hello," He answers. A gruff hum was heard on the other side of the phone as Aran's face scrunched up in question. "Hellleer-"

"Aran ? Why you got Y/N phone ?" Osamu says across the line.

Aran laughed a bit as he says, "That's because he fixing his clothes in the mirror. Did you guys start already or sum' ?" Static and slight car noises could be heard a bit until he spoke again.

"Um- Dang. Well, we going over to Kiyoko's house because she said she wanted to roll this time." A hum of acknowledgment was given. You finished up picking leftover lint and whatnot from your outfit. Aran gave phone back to you as he went to go brush his teeth. You eyed him a bit before a short 'hello' got your attention.

"Hey 'Samu, what's up," You say. Not even getting an answer had hung up on you. "Wow, okay."

Aran spat out his toothpaste before turning back at you from the bathroom. "He said we are going to Kiyoko's house this time," Rinsing his mouth out and cleaning up the sink dutifully. "They suck at rolling is what they said." You nod at his words as he come your direction. Checking your phone you see it's 1:45.

You hum a small tune as your hands make way to your boyfriends waist. "You trying to be good for me today," Rocking back in forth in the middle of your guys' room, he nods as his head rests on your chest. "You get frustrated when high so if anything happens we can leave. Even though we've been 'round these people for a long time." You say.

He giggles a bit and breaks from your grasp. "Yeah, and you aren't any better than me. If you get like how we are in private, I'm going to personally choke you," He says. "Come on so we can get there early. Her house is far." You laugh following him to the car outside.

This day will get messy either or.

"Look, it's gay and gayer ! What's good ?" Tanaka greeted you and Aran. He meant no harm, but you people in the room cringed at his welcoming to the both of you.

Tanaka looked down and he saw your matching outfits. "Oh okay," he started hyping the both of you up, making and "Ouuu" noise. "I need me a girl or sum to match with." He pouted. Aran laughed in his face before Atsumu came over for a hello.

The smell of multiple alcohols and body fragrance was enough for you to realize it was gonna be a chill smoke sesh.

"So why yall matching like two twins at a birthday party ?" Kiyoko snickered lightly. Drinking her sure enough expensive wine in a cup. She hated wasting dishes for events like these.

Aran looked up from his phone to check if she was talking to you or him. "What," Kiyoko shook her head, taking another gulp of her velvet liquid. She fiddled with her tongue piercing before eyeing the actual twins in the room as she got up. "Don't fuck up my house. My parents get home literally tomorrow. Goodnight everyone." And with that she retired to her room.

Apparently this was cue for the twins to take initiative. Osamu brung out the speaker from his back pack as he turned on some music. Obviously nothing too loud, or everybody was going to sleep.

"You already know she don't like music playing. If you gonna play some, might aswell turn it down." Aran says. He was right. You chuckled. Snatching Osamus phone out of his hand.

"Hey, I was about to play something." You rolled your eyes. He had a bad thing with never actually picking a song. Osamu would play a dead or unwitting song just so he can say he did in fact play a song. Meanwhile he is watching some big booty hoe on live. Many occasions the audio switched to whatever porn his screen was on.

"I don't want shit to seem like a whore house Samu. Realize we in a different setting." You scoffed at him as he visibly ignored you.

Atsumu got up heading to the kitchen. You picked a decent song by a familiar artist to the room { Preferably SkiMask The Slump God }. Your body took after it's own conscience by your hand smoothing over Arans natural waves. He hums in appreciation to the contact as his own body ushers closer to you.

So touch starved he seemed to be in public spaces. A smile crept on your face. Tanaka sulked with his red cup in hand at the sight of the only official couple in the room.

You could say that Noya was in it with Yachi, but that man fucks with everyone. Last "official couple" was you and Aran, and it will probably stay that way until college graduation or even later than that.

You and Aran were close before college, but one day you just had to not act like what you two were doing was not gay. Going on casual walks like two girl bestfriends in a mall hand in hand like lovers. He thought it was skin-ship, which it was but you honestly piked how he idly leaned closer to your side to avoid the street.

All beside the flashbacks, you set Osamu's phone down and raised your voice. The twins always brung the appliances for the specific occasion in one of their backpacks.

"Hey, A-ron can you get that bagback ?" You said. Aran immediately shot you a face. He didn't liked being called that so he didn't move. Continuing to do what he was doing on his phone.

You groaned. "I can't get it," you tried reaching for the bag on the other side of him. "See ?"

"Yes you can." Aran scoffed.

You groaned boisterously until he finally grabbed the back pack and handed to you. "It's not called bag pack by the way." He said. You hummed as you took out the paper and weed. Holding it between you and Aran.

"So, who's rolling ?"

After Aran rolled, everyone including yourself, sat in somewhat of a circle. By circle I mean some people sat on some pillows and or closer to walls. Chips and any other snacks like skittles were laying throughout the living space. You would remember to clean up along with Tanaka since he brought majority of it.

"Have you guys been into anything freaky ?" Kyotani asked the room. A few necks craned his way as he continued to pick at the black polish on his thumb.

"No. If I did I would probably go to jail because I would tie'er up too tie, and they'll think I was trying murder her." Tanaka said.

Aran put his hand up in Tanakas direction. A signal for him not to finish nor entertain the thought anymore. "You are right however I don't believe you ever fucked anyone before,"

You chuckled. Tanaka shrugged laughing anyway. Osamu perked up afterwards saying he was intrigued by a few, but most didn't feel right with him. A mello and vanilla guy. You secretly hoped he found someone to match him perfectly.

"Let's ask the only two who have actually had sex then !" Tanaka shouted. Kiyoko banged on the walls from her bedroom, warning him to pipe down.

You and Aran are the only ones who have had intercourse and have been in a relationship. Aran shrugged. "It's that ugly ass cut on top of ya head, G." He said. Taking an inhale of the blunt before holding it up to you. He was a bit "loose" now and when he was, he was literally in a different world, and clingly while at it.

You did the same before passing it on to Tanaka in the midst of him physically blowing steam out of his ears before taking the hit.

"Shut up, 'Naka. You too loud. And Aran is right by the way." Atsumu says. Eating a bag of hot fries as he manages the music which was now playing Ocean Frank.

"Anyways," You chuckled. Looking down in your lap was Aran. Eyes lidded as he was playing with one of the strings on his hoodie. You thought he was cute as you backed his head in your chest, as he was laying on his back, legs sprawled in front of him.

"Aran looks faded as hell." Atsumu laughed. You nodded slowly since you were a bit faded aswell. Aran groaned as he got up from his original spot to curl himself in your lap. No reaction was given from the group since everyone didn't really care.

"'M fucking horny." He mumbled. You jolted a bit, but kept cool. Instead you patted his back and rubbing it with a rythym as he hummed. It was unoriginal or anything, but the way he said nearly brung you out of your high.

{ hours went by and eventually you guys got kicked out sooner or later. Kiyoko found half the group dead asleep or still barely snacking on leftovers over candy. You and Aran were probably the main reason though since you both just ended up kissing on her mom's couch.

"Just get fuck out." She calmly said after kicking the others bodies around the room. Opening windows to un-hotbox the room.

"Take care of him by the way. Bye Y/N." She said before shutting her house door in front of your face.

It was 11 AM so you just called an uber and layed Aran down in bed before going to sleep yourself. }

#aran smut #aran ojiro x reader #aran x male reader #aran ojiro x male reader #haikyuu smut #aran ojiro smut #bottom aran ojiro #top male reader #smoking #smoking smut #ZensFics-☆

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thesunshinydays · 3 years ago

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alright i promised a rant and im gonna deliver:

its genshin vision analysis applied to blaseball time i hope youre all ready

(under the cut because im a merciful poster haha no im not im maintagging this)

SO in genshin impact the only people who can naturally wield elemental magic are people called vision holders. a vision is a small gem that serves as a focus for elemental power, but more than that its a literal manifestation of a persons goals, ambitions, determination, etc and if someones vision is taken away it actually also causes significant damage to them mentally because a lot of their motivation and even sometimes their memories go with it. it is quite literally their vision for themselves.

each vision holder controls only one element and there are enough characters that have been released now to notice trends among what types of people can control which element. in genshin there are seven: anemo (wind), geo (earth), electro (lightning), hydro (water), pyro (fire), cryo (ice), and dendro (plants, though i wont be talking about dendro bc we dont have any dendro characters yet)

so here are what i think a vision holders element says about them as people:

(note if you dont play genshin you can skip the parentheticals its genshin character talk)

anemo: cannot be stopped in pursuit of their ambitions, even by themselves (see: jean insisting on going into a domain even though shes so sick that she passed out, sucrose being so possessed by curiosity that she cant stop investigating until she answers her questions, sayu’s endless game of cat and mouse w the shrine maiden, xiao being the last yaksha to hold out against the karmic debt)

geo: incredibly dependable and/or known to keep their word (see: noelle’s constant help to everyone around her, albedo taking care of klee while remaining dedicated to his research, ningguang sacrificing the jade chamber)

electro: girlbosses and their adopted teenage sons (kidding). people who are integral to the functioning of a community (see: lisa as a force of nature in her care for her library and its patrons, sara as a general, razor and the wolves, yae as head priestess, keqing as the yuheng of the qixing, fischl as the princess of her (imaginary) kingdom)

hydro: they know how to put on one hell of a show, some aspect of their identity is based around performance or facade. (see: barbara aka mondstadts idol, mona’s whole enlightened astrologist demeanor even though shes very broke, xingqius idolization and imitation of martial art book protagonists, sangonomiya having to put on a brave face for her troops, childes gladiatorial love of combat but also lying about it to his younger siblings)

pyro: they press on or even thrive in the face of adversity and/or social stigma (see: xinyan using rock n roll to fight prejudice, xianglings insistence on culinary experimentation even when others think its a bad idea, ambers pride in being the last outrider and also getting her gliding license revoked like once a month for sick tricks, benny’s luck, dilucs vigilanteism, klee being a 5yo w explosives, i could go on theres so many pyro holders)

cryo: their job/sense of purpose is tied very tightly to their identity, often antagonistically (see: every single rosaria voiceline, chongyuns ability to exorcise ghosts just by being to close to them, dionas job as a bartender and her hatred of alcohol, the interactions between eulas lineage and her job as a knight, literally everything about ganyu, etc)

so anyway now im going to assign visions to some blaseball players for fun

mike townsend (has a pyro vision): weve all heard the disappointment song this guy just kept pitching in spite of all the people who wanted him dead good for him

jaylen hotdogfingers, cryo vision: this woman is the face of the discipline era, she was tied so tightly to the game that she was the first to kill for it.

tillman henderson, hydro vision: points to the original “im the guy who sucks” tshirt fanart (hi marn). he took being awful at the game and turned it into performance art

wyatt mason/NaN, electro vision: all of the tacos were him for a while and also he facilitated the god killing with the mic and also there were like ten of him and there are still like two more and NaNs been on like every team and and and anyway name a character more integral to the blaseball community you cant

esme ramsey, anemo vision: if i think too hard about esme ramsey never missing a game ill start to lose my mind the woman is unstoppable. maybe this should actually count as geo i dont know. but she deserves a vision

edric tosser, pyro or geo vision: really stuck on this one tbh. pyro for thematic consistency and the being from an arson team but having been put on the firefighting team or geo for being the person who burns things for the guys in the trench. both iconoclastic and dependable we are all love edric tosser

chorby soul cryo vision: [insert jaws theme] the ritual scape goat can have a little ice magic, as a treat

declan suzanne geo vision: you can always depend on declan suzanne to be a great fire fighter and a terrible blaseball player, tumblr user socksmaybe has convinced me of this

jessica telephone, hydro vision: you dont get that popular without an inherent charisma and sense of performance, regardless of which version of jt you subscribe to

tiana takahashi electro or cryo vision: sometimes you make an incredibly popular trading card game out of cards for a blood splort and gain a fan following on the internet then start playing that splort irl and thats valid

bonus round: i think albedo would start on the hellmouth sunbeams and get feedbacked to the philly pies as a part of the always sunny friendship trades

#blaseball #genshin impact #*impact font on hypnosis background* you want to read my combination blaseball and genshin meta you want to read it SO bad

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ajeepgirl · 3 years ago

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Hold On

Premise: Lena is severely wounded in a battle.

Inspired by the songs Hold On by Chord Overstreet and The Other Side by Ruelle

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32889202

Kara always thought that the moment she looked back from her pod as a young adolescent girl and saw her own planet exploding would be the memory that always felt like time stood still. She remembers feeling so frozen, so helpless, so alone, in that moment as she realized that everyone she has ever known and loved, she would never see again. She remembers the chill that ran through her entire body, as the reality of her situation dawned on her, turning to face the endless void of space in front of her. She recalls the sudden shock she felt when moments later she was rocketed into the phantom zone by debris from her own planet.

She would question it, for years, really. Why her. Why would the chaos of the universe or Rao itself decide that she be destined to spend the next twenty years in stasis in her pod, endlessly floating as she was half asleep, half unconscious, because of the pod. But still, be awake enough to replay the destruction of her world, over and over again. And even more so, why her cousin would be gifted the ability to arrive safely on Earth, without her. Of course, Kara never voiced these thoughts to anyone when she finally arrived on the planet herself, so lost in her own anger and grief that she never quite got to process losing her family, her people, and her planet. And when she arrived on Earth, she was full of more anger over the fact that she couldn’t do what her parents had asked her to do. She failed them and their dying wish for her. All because Kal was now an adult. Not only that, but he was the Champion of Earth. A Superhero. Superman. And here she was, being tucked away, far away, from the only person she remembers only as a baby. She has no idea who this man was before her. He can’t speak their language, not fluently like her. He reminds Kara of Daxamites who would come visit in efforts to broker piece between their planets, never quite understanding how the language is supposed to flow. It is chunky and hard to hear. Which is why Kara quickly learns English and never speaks Kryptonese with Kal ever again.

But here she is now, once again feeling like she is watching herself, watching what is happening from somewhere else, from above. Because this, much like the destruction of her own planet, this cannot be happening. For the second time in her life, Kara feels like time is frozen as she looks down at Lena’s motionless body. And here she is again... frozen, helpless, and so, so alone.

There is blood everywhere.

Too much blood.

Kara knows it.

Her own heart is pounding in her ears. She is too afraid to even attempt to use her own superhearing to see if Lena’s heart is beating. She is too afraid to know the answer.

“You can’t be dead,” she finds herself saying out loud, instead.

Over and over again. It starts out slow, drawn out, almost a whisper, like she is trying to convince herself first, and then Lena herself. The more she says it though, the quicker it starts to come out and the louder she starts to say it. Like she is trying to will Lena awake just with her words.

“YOU CAN’T BE DEAD!”

Lena doesn’t move.

“Kara, Kara, can you hear me? Did you find her?” It’s Alex, coming over the comes, apparently whatever issue they were having with communication has been fixed.

Hearing her sister’s voice, Kara is finally spurred into action. She reaches down gingerly, her hands shaking as they brush back dark, bloody hair from Lena’s face. She reaches under her and gently lifts her up.

“I’m bringing her to the Tower,” is all Kara says in response.

Alex and Brainy work on Lena for hours.

Kara paces outside the room the entire time, the image of Lena laying in the rubble seared into her brain. She doesn’t notice Nia approaching.

“Kara, how is she?”

Kara, eyes glassy, finally looks over to Nia. She is walking with a limp; her suit is torn, and her arm is in a sling. She clearly didn’t come away from this battle unscathed either.

“There was so much blood,” Kara says, the image still at the forefront of her mind.

Nia nods as she takes Kara’s arm and guides her over to a couch to sit down. “She is a fighter, Kara.”

“She wasn’t supposed to be out there.” Kara says it as she rocks a little bit back and forth, her arms wrapping around her stomach.

Nia puts an arm around Kara’s shoulders. “You and I both know that Lena was never going to stay behind. Aren’t you the one that told me she literally told you she isn’t some ‘damsel in distress’?”

Kara’s lip turns up at the memory before she shakes her head. “Yeah but… but she knew… she knew this was too much of a risk. I was supposed to do it.”

“She did know the risk, Kara. But she wasn’t ever going to let you face it alone.”

“But why, I just…”

“She loves you, Kara.”

Nia says it bluntly. Everyone knows exactly why Lena used her watch and showed up in the middle of the battle, right where Kara was, to use some weapon she just finished designing, to save Kara. And it did, it saved Kara’s life. However, Lena also knew it was supposed to be wielded by Kara because it had too much energy in it. Too much for a human to manage. That’s why Kara was supposed to be the one who used it. She could withstand the energy output.

Kara had been knocked down. She was severely beaten and bloody by the time Lena arrived. And when Lena looked around for anyone else who might be able to wield the weapon, she didn’t see anyone. And she had lost contact with the others. When she tried to reach them, all she got was static. She didn’t have time to do anything else. They were going to kill Kara if she didn’t act. So, Lena took aim, and fired.

Kara remembers her head falling to the side, as she laid on the ground, breathing raggedly, trying to find the strength to get up. Her vision was blurry. She thought she was dreaming, really, when she saw Lena, at first.

But then she saw the weapon. She had just enough time for her brain to register what was about to happen and for her mouth to form the words.

“Lena. No.”

And then all hell broke loose.

The weapon fired. And everything around Kara exploded in a massive burst of energy. Debris and dust flew into the air like a tiny bomb had gone off. In reality, it kind of did. The alien that had nearly killed her was laying several dozens of yards away now, incapacitated. But Kara wasn’t concerned about that now. As she gathered her strength to stand, she used what remained of her powers to use her x-ray vision to search through the dust, unable to see otherwise. She was looking for Lena.

“No no no… where are you…”

Kara hadn’t registered the silence on her comms, which had been cut off from her several minutes ago when she was still being thrashed by the enemy.

It takes another minute before her vision allows her to see Lena’s warm body laying on the ground. She had been thrown a good fifty yards from where she had fired the weapon. Her powers nearly depleted now, she stumbled and crawled across the debris as she makes her way over to Lena.

J’onn, Brainy, and M’gann had to meet them and help Kara fly Lena back to the Tower, with her powers all but gone when she was only halfway back. Kara refused to let any of them take Lena out of her arms though. Instead, they all helped carry Kara, holding onto her in what might be awkward ways, if it wasn’t for the urgency of getting them back to save Lena’s life.

Kara collapsed from exhaustion once they had returned, but of course she refused to sit under a yellow sun lamp. She refused to leave Lena’s side until Alex insisted that she couldn’t be in the room with them, as they worked on her.

Which is why Nia found Kara outside the room, pacing.

“Did you hear me, Kara? Lena loves you.” Nia says it a little softer this time, but with no less conviction. Even Nia, the youngest of the group, is a bit tired of how these two have continued to dance around each other after everything that has happened between them.

Kara’s behavior now, is no less convincing to Nia that they are, indeed, in love with each other.

She nods, her eyes telling Nia that she isn’t really all here with her, that part of her is somewhere else entirely right now.

A few more seconds go by before Kara says softly, “I can’t lose her, Nia. I’m lost without her.”

Nia gently squeezes Kara, letting her know she is here for her, and just holds her as the tears finally come. A sob escapes Kara’s mouth as the reality of the situation finally hits her.

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

Alex and Brainy work on Lena for twelve hours. J’onn and M’gann make several trips to the blood bank.

Lena’s heart stops beating four times.

Each time, it takes them longer and longer to bring her back. As they get Lena’s heart beating again, a part of Alex’s brain, way in the back, registers that it is a good thing Kara solar flared because otherwise, she would be using her superhearing and she would definitely be freaking out every time Lena codes.

When they finally come out of the room, both Alex and Brainy’s feet drag. Their eyes are sunken in with dark circles beneath them. Nia is still seated nearby, with Kara’s head on her lap. Both are asleep. Brainy looks at Alex, asking without words if they should wake them. Alex shakes her head and turns away from them. Brainy follows her in the opposite direction towards a room down the hallway that has a few spare cots. They both immediately pass out from exhaustion.

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

When Kara wakes up a couple hours later, she sits up slowly, wiping away the grogginess from her eyes. Nia mumbles in her sleep as she sinks further into the couch. Kara half-smiles, thankful for the friendship and bond she has with Nia as she stands up and walks slowly towards the doorway of Lena’s room. As she does, she sees Alex walking out of the room down the hallway in a fresh pair of clothes. She is drying her hair with a towel as she spots Kara.

Kara sees her and immediately looks from the doorway to Alex and then back again.

“Kara, wait.”

Alex lets out a sigh as she watches the doorway close behind her sister. She had wanted to prepare her, had wanted to let her know what she was walking into. Kara has never dealt with this level of injury before. She has never had to see someone in this condition before. It can be quite alarming.

Alex decides to give Kara ten minutes alone with Lena before following her.

Once inside, Kara freezes, taking in the scene before her. There is the constant hum of machinery and the constant beep, telling her that yes, Lena’s heart is still beating. There are all kinds of wires and chords and machines around her. Kara isn’t sure what all of them are for though. She never learned about all the Earthly medical stuff that Alex knows from medical school. She takes a few deep breaths as she slowly approaches, unsure of exactly what to do now that she is here. She swallows as she sits down next to Lena’s bedside. Kara finds herself reaching out and taking Lena’s hand and placing it between her own.

She sits quietly for a few minutes, just listening to the machines tell her over and over again that Lena is alive, that her heart is beating. As the memories from the battle, of her conversation with Nia, and the memories of her entire friendship with Lena flash through her mind, Kara’s eyes fill with tears. She lays her head on her hands as she begins to speak.

“You have to wake up Lena… please… I… I can’t… You can’t leave me here alone without you… not yet… I still need you.”

Alex walks in a few moments later. She stands behind Kara, putting a hand on her back.

“When… when will she wake up Alex?”

Alex doesn’t answer right away. She waits for Kara to look up at her, tears still falling from her eyes.

“I… I don’t know Kara. She took massive amounts of internal damage from… the battle… We were able to repair everything that we could find… but her body needs time to repair and heal itself… right now she is still in a medically induced coma… we will wean her off in the next day to see if her body can handle it… and then see if… when… she wakes up… we won’t know anything for sure because of the brain damage from the skull fracture.”

Alex talks more after that, using more medical jargon that Kara doesn’t hear, as she rests her chin on her hands and stares up at Lena’s face. All she wants to do is sit here with Lena, for now until she wakes up.

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

They end up keeping Lena sedated a few extra days after the first attempt to bring her out of the coma sends her vitals spiking to the point that Alex was sure Kara was about to have a heart attack. On the fifth day, when they try again, the process goes much smoother.

However, Kara is not doing a good job waiting.

“It could be a few hours or a few days, Kara,” Alex reminds her sister, before walking out to meet Kelly for lunch. Kara has barely eaten over the past week, despite everyone trying to convince her that she needs to eat. She continues to insist that she needs to be here, beside Lena, for when she wakes up. She has doubled down with that statement since Lena has been taken out of the coma.

That was 38 hours ago.

When Alex leaves, Kara smiles at Lena. “What does she know anyway, right Lee? I’ve always liked it best when it’s just the two of us. And you’ll wake up when you’re good and ready. For now, I’ll keep reading to you.” Kara continuing to read to Lena from the book she was reading before Alex had come in to check Lena’s vitals. It has become their thing, over the past few days – Kara reading to Lena. Refusing to leave the Tower, barely leaving Lena’s room, she asked Nia to bring her a set of books, a very specific set of books, from her apartment, that she knows Lena likes. And she has been reading them to her every day.

She is getting to the part of the current story, where the protagonist confesses her love for her best friend. It’s a big moment, considering they are on the run and being persecuted for witchcraft by their village. Kara never really understood the appeal of historical fiction. Though, she has been slowly getting it over the past few days. Many of these books, underneath the overarching historical elements that fuel the tragedies in the stories, are telling stories about romance and growth and acceptance. These are aspects of storytelling that she can get behind.

Kara gets to the end of the chapter, where the confession happens and the two characters are immediately torn from one another, because of course they are. She sets the book down and again finds herself reaching out and holding Lena’s hand gently in her own. She intertwines their fingers and finds herself tracing patterns over Lena’s knuckles as she thinks about her own story and what it might look like if it were written by someone. How might someone tell her story? She thinks back, recalls watching the tapes with Mxy, remembers how he summarized her relationship with Lena at that time. She thinks about how someone might write a story if they were telling it form the perspective of her and Lena.

She sighs as she looks back up at Lena’s face before she looks back at their hands, a sad smile forming on her face as she blinks away the tears. “Please wake up Lena… You are my sun. You are my everything. I… I still need you. I don’t want to live this life without you… I don’t know if I can…”

A few seconds of silence go by before Kara suddenly hears, “This might sound a bit anticlimactic after that amazing declaration… but… I love you too, Kara.”

As she says it, Kara’s face shoots up, her eyes zoning in on Lena’s face in disbelief as Lena looks back at her. She is talking. She is responding. She is awake.

“Lena,” she breathes out, still not quite processing the actual words that Lena has said.

Lena smiles. “Hi darling.”

“You’re awake.” Kara’s eyes are full of tears now, free flowing down her cheeks.

“And you’re crying,” Lena responds with just the slightest bit of wit.

“Lena,” she says again, this time more emphatically. “You love me…. You love me?” Lena laughs knowing she is watching Kara process out loud because the first one was a statement and the second one was a question. She nods. Her smile widens as she raises her other arm up and signals for Kara to come closer.

Kara stands excitedly before her mind catches up. “Um… I don’t want to… hurt you… you’re still healing.”

Lena smiles again, softly this time. “We will be gentle. This bed is plenty big enough. Come lay down with me, please?”

Kara nods as she takes the last two steps forward. She helps Lena adjust slightly on the bed, before laying down next to her, immediately engulfing Lena in her arms.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself,” Lena immediately says, sadness in her voice. Now that she has gotten a closer look, she can see the bags under Kara’s eyes and hear the rumble in Kara’s stomach.

Kara shrugs. “I’ll be fine, I can sleep now that I know you’re ok.” Lena lets it go, still too tired to argue with Kara in her current state. She makes a mental note to circle back to this particular issue at a later date.

As they curl up together, Lena smiles into Kara’s chest. “You know, if I had known this was all it would take for you to finally admit you love me…”

“Lena Kieran Luthor.”

“Too soon?”

“Too soon.”

Lena chuckles to herself at her morbid joke, tucking her head further into Kara, relishing the feeling. Despite her own protest to the joke, Kara still turns her head and gives Lena a kiss on the head.

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Always.”

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #they are in love #angst with a happy ending

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mishasminion360 · 4 years ago

Text

Space Age Love Song, Ch. 1

A Mandalorian x O/C Fic

Warning: Language

Notes: I’ve had this idea for awhile now and decided “why the hell not?” It’s been quite some time since I’ve written a full fledged fic, but I’m going to try to remain committed and complete this one. I already have a good idea of where I want it to go, so that’s a plus. Readers, you’re in for plenty of Mando romance, fluff, angst, action, and suspense. I hope you enjoy!

He crashed into her life like a falling star. The brightest star in the cosmos.

Ch. 1: Crash Into Me

The world was always a lonelier place at night. Rural Kansas appeared much more desolate in the dark; the roads and the land seemed to stretch on forever, both leading to nothing. The whistling of the evening breeze was the only voice to be heard for miles.

A half-drunk glass of whiskey in hand, Sara craned her head skyward to gaze at the stars. At most times, it seemed, they were her only friends. At least there were plenty of them to go around.

Her shift at the Hillsboro Community Hospital had been a grueling one this evening. She had just managed to drag her weary bones home a little more than an hour ago and already the night was creeping into day. Though exhausted, she’d suddenly found herself wired the second she’d pulled into her driveway at nearly 3 a.m. Now coming up on 4 in the morning, she downed the rest of her whiskey in hopes of calming herself long enough to drop into dreamland.

She had no reason to be awake so late, or early, rather. Sara had no one to pass the wakefulness with. The last of the only family she’d ever known had vanished from her life nearly a decade ago, leaving her with nothing but an old country house in the middle of nowhere that was far too big for a solitary woman such as herself. That house and memories.

There shouldn’t be any joy in the thought of coming home to an empty house. No happiness at the thought of eating alone, sleeping alone, living alone. But, as it began to happen more frequently, Sara came to realize that this rush of adrenaline she felt upon returning to her solitary homestead night after night was from the hope that she wouldn’t be lonely for long. One night she’d come home and there’d be someone worth coming home to. Someone waiting for her.

For now, though, Sara pulled herself to her feet, blinked the stars from her eyes, and prepared to head inside where she’d climb the stairs to her room and finally sleep the sleep of the dead.

She had just yanked open the finicky screen door when she heard a peculiar thoom! Her tired eyes returned to the sky to see that it was ablaze with light. A star, like a white hot ember, arced through the night, tumbling, tumbling down. So bright. So fast. So BIG.

That is not a star, she thought.

Sara watched the object’s decent with her heart in her throat. What if it was a meteor? Or a guided missile gone astray? Should she take cover? Would there be enough time? Would it even matter? The time she could’ve spent moving was lost to an endless string of “what if’s” playing on a loop inside her head, and by the time her brain managed to squeeze a logical thought about running into the mix, the object was crashing to earth in the field behind her barn.

She felt the impact from her porch; wobbled unsteadily on her feet as a tremor passed through the ground below. She could see the glow of flames in the distance. With the threat of a wildfire from space igniting the field beyond, with her house and all its memories in danger, she sprang into action.

Sara darted inside and made a beeline for the kitchen, retrieving the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Then, opting to take the back door, she darted back out into the chilly pre-dawn and ran as fast as her legs would carry her toward what she could only assume was Fox Mulder’s wet dream.

***

So, it definitely wasn’t a star. It wasn’t a meteor or a missile either. Nothing in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for what she was seeing. It was in pieces and it was on fire, but even partially destroyed Sara could positively identify (having watched enough cheesy sci-fi movies with her gramps to do so) an alien ship when she saw one.

“What kind of Superman origin story bullshit is this?” she wondered out loud.

The flames licking at the wreckage weren’t too big, and the small extinguisher did the trick for the most part. The dented silver exterior was still smoldering in some places by the time the canister was empty. Tossing the empty red cylinder aside, she stood and stared at the UFO in a mix of wonder and fear as another round of incessant questions bombarded her brain. Should she call someone about this? Who the hell was she supposed to call anyway: the cops, a scientist, the news, or all of the above?

With a startling groan of metal and a hiss of pressurized air, a large door at the rear of the ship (or was it the front? She had no fucking clue) descended, assuming a new role as a ramp, or so it appeared. It was almost as if the ship were inviting her inside.

Sara took a moment to peer into the vessel’s dark innards, then shook her head. She’d seen enough Ridley Scott movies to know that going inside was a terrible idea. Blindly investigating a mysterious extraterrestrial ship is how people ended up dead or, at the very least, pregnant with an alien baby. She wanted no part in either one of those scenarios if she could help it.

The rationalist inside of Sara urged her not to take another step farther; practically shouted at her to turn around and run the other way. But the nurse in her wouldn’t, couldn’t allow her to abandon someone who might be aboard and may be hurt, human or...otherwise. Damn. Sometimes she felt like she’d chosen the wrong profession.

Taking a cautious step up onto the ramp, jumping a bit at the echoing of her own footsteps, Sara called out to the darkness.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

When she got only silence for a response, she decided to forge on ahead into the belly of the great metal beast.

“Okay, I’m coming in so please just...don’t eat me and keep your tentacles to yourself.”

The cavernous ship was as black as night. In the distance she could see lights blinking, like stars in the night guiding her way. Sara felt along the walls blindly and inched forward with small, cautious steps.

“If anyone is in here be warned. I do not like surprises and, so help me, if you jump out at me here in the dark I will punch first and ask questions later.”

As she drew closer to the flashing lights, she began to hear noise. What sounded like about five different alarms were blaring, but still nothing resembling a voice.

Suddenly, the floor seemed to rise by a foot and she stumbled at the sudden change in elevation. Her arms flailed dramatically as she desperately reached for something, anything to grab onto. Sara hit the ground hard and loud, her cry of surprise cut short as her head thumped against the cold floor.

Disoriented from the blow, she looked up and took in her surroundings with blurred vision. The alarms screamed at her from every direction, which was doing absolutely nothing to help her gradually building headache, and the lights blinked furiously in sync with the shrieking sirens. She could make out other objects now, what looked like buttons and knobs and levers and screens all illuminated by the incessant flashing of the warning lights. Damn her shit luck. Alone on this alien ship and she’d managed to stumble (literally) into the freaking cockpit. But where was the pilot?

Okay, maybe whatever had been flying this saucer never heard her, had no idea she was here. Maybe it was an unmanned craft. There was still a chance she’d make it out of this incredibly foolhardy endeavor alive. Stiffly and carefully Sara rolled onto her back, glanced up, and immediately screamed.

A face, or at least what she assumed was a face, more like a mask of some sort, peered down at her from above. Stifling another cry, she scrambled up to a sitting position and shinnied away until she felt her back hit wall. Even with that outburst, the creature didn’t appear to stir. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and vigilant observation, it didn’t appear that the alien was conscious.

Before she even realized she was doing it, Sara was on her hands and knees, creeping closer to where the sleeping being was collapsed heavily in what she figured to be the captain’s chair. Upon closer inspection, it looked more like a man than a monster. A man (or a woman) encased from head to toe in a suit of shimmering silver armor. Hell, it could have been a robot.

Through the small t-shaped visor in the dome-like helmet Sara could see no traces of a face. She had no definitive way of knowing if the spaceman was truly slumbering or just waiting for her to get close enough to grab, and for a moment she hesitated to move any closer. But when she saw the small trickle of blood leaking from beneath the helmet and onto the right pauldron, her fear instantly vanished. Definitely not a robot; a living, bleeding person. RN powers activate!

“Hey! Hey, can you hear me?” Sara gave the shiny helmet a light tap, trying to conjure a response. “Come on spaceman, spacewoman, are you with me? Wake up!”

His or her head rolled limply to the side as the blood continued to run. Unconsciousness following a vehicular (or spacecraftular) crash was never a good sign, but Sara couldn’t know for certain until she saw the source of the blood how bad the damage was. Gripping the helmet between her sweating palms she began to slide it upward carefully. Before she could even get it past the wearer’s chin, a hand reached up and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her instantly. She flinched, in surprise rather than pain; their grip was unexpectedly gentle.

“Don’t-don’t take it off,” a very male voice stammered weakly. “You can’t...”

Sara was momentarily stunned. The alien spoke perfect English, and in a voice as soft as their grasp. She shook her head to reorganize her thoughts. This situation called for the utmost professionalism. When you’re a nurse, first impressions are everything. And she wasn’t representing just herself at this moment, but potentially the entire human race.

“Sir, I...it’s going to be alright, sir. I’m a nurse. I can help you, but I’ll need to assess the injury. I need to remove your helmet in order to-“

“Please...”

Sara had entered this ship expecting to find a monster ready to frighten her. What she’d never anticipated was that the monster could be just as frightened as she was. And that’s what she heard in the spaceman’s voice: fear. He was scared. Of her. And that’s when any remaining trace of her own fear vanished. She reached down and found one of his gloved hands and squeezed it gently in her own.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be alright. I’m going to help you. You’re safe.” With her other hand she caressed one side of his helmet and tried to imagine that she were stroking his own cheek. “You’re safe.”

He seemed to relax a bit under her touch, but that may have been from the second wave of sleep overtaking him. Sara released his hand, took a step back, took a deep breath, and began mentally preparing herself for the task ahead.

Dragging a snoozing spaceman all the way to the house was not going to be an easy task, but it was one that had to be done. As a nurse, she’d be damned if she’d let a patient, even an extraterrestrial one, die on her watch.

Sara slid her arms around the limp man’s chest and began the first chore: hoisting him out of the chair.

“Welcome to Earth.”

#the mandalorian #original work #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 25

first time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Drugs and alcohol. Vague reference to Britishguy Funnyname being Smaug. Gen-Z humor. Reader throwing it back. You can pry my headcanon of Sam being a good dancer from my cold, dead hands.

I literally have a playlist titled "party in Stark tower but a Gen-Z is the DJ". It's good for house parties & dancing. Throw it back my ladies theybies and gentlemen ✌🏻😔

As soon as we heard the muted cheering coming from the spot we'd last seen our friends, my and Loki's head minutely turned in that direction, and only centuries of practice on his end prevented us from colliding with another couple dancing nearby.

Stephen Strange was a... Vision. He was something else, for sure, tight black suit with a sophisticated scale pattern shining silver in the candlelight; the same pattern decorating parts of his face and head, convoluting in a set of small, raised grey-white horns. And his eyes - his eyes glowed like the molten embers of an unholy fire, yellow and gold. He looked terrifying and dangerous and delicious.

And he was looking at us, a cocky smirk on his pale lips and a glass of scotch idly held in a black, gloved hand.

Loki cleared his throat.

I averted my gaze, briefly locking my eyes with Loki's - red and wide. So I wasn't the only one that felt an indescribable sort of animalistic magnetism when looking at the Sorcerer Supreme. "Magic?" I asked, to take my mind off the awkwardness.

"Indeed," Loki replied curtly, stepping slightly closer to me. "Simplistic, but powerful magic. It seems like you had struck a sensitive spot within the Sorcerer," With a great deal of teasing, Loki grinned his trademark 'I-am-trouble' grin.

I chewed on my lip in thought. Low confidence much, Stephen? "We can both agree he is hot as fuck, a gorgeous piece of man, and continue with our party," I spoke after a brief moment, raising an eyebrow towards Loki, hoping to cut the shit at its roots. The trickster couldn't pretend he was unaffected, I had seen his brain stutter.

"Let's shall," He smiled, for real this time, and led us back to our friends. "Strange," Loki's voice was, perhaps, a tad more breathy than usual. I wouldn't blame him for shooting his shot if Stephen actually swung that way.

"Doctor Wizard," Game face: ON, I made my biggest, most innocent eyes and fluttered my wings for the dramatic effect as I made my way back to Bruce. Tony was gone and so was his glass of whiskey - I assumed he had went to schmooze. Bruce patted his lap and I obediently sat down, placing myself nearly face-to-face with the sorcerer.

"Good evening," It took my brain a moment to register that the deep, guttural voice was coming indeed from Stephen himself. "Forgive my tardiness, I was held up at the Sanctum." He stared right at me, flashing those unbelievable eyes in what seemed like amusement. I couldn't tell.

"Smaug," My brain blurted out for some reason. I mean, the eyes, the scales, the voice...

"Touchè," He nodded, saluting me with his glass and taking a hefty swig. "I can't say I'm very trendy," The way he said the word was obviously meant to insult current fashions, "But for an old man like me, I clean up nicely." The little shit-eating grin just about killed me on the spot. Bruce chuckled behind me.

"I won't disagree," I twirled the straw of a drink Bruce had passed me, faking coyness and trying to gather my thoughts in some resemblance of an order. "The eyes are impressive."

"Thank you," Stephen chuckled. "That, and the voice, took some time and patience."

So, he noticed. I was fucked. So, so fucked. I needed more alcohol. "Where's Wanda?" I asked nobody in particular.

"She's dancing with Natasha," Bruce answered, watching me and Stephen with a knowing smirk. The green in his eyes didn't intensify and I took the brief moment to softly touch my lips to his, so quickly it might have been mistaken for a trick of the eye by any peeping stranger. Stephen's close vicinity did something to me. "Wanna go dance with the girls, Princess?" Bruce leaned away slightly, the brown of his irises flashing a glowing green. Oh, he was affected, too.

Stephen Strange, you sly, sly bastard.

"Yes, daddy," I whispered into his ear - just to watch him shudder all over and the hand on my bare thigh briefly turn green, grabbing my flesh possessively... As well as hear Stephen's sharp inhale, the brightening of his eyes. I sashayed off, satisfied with my small act of revenge.

I approached Natasha and Wanda carefully, taking care not to startle them.

"Finally," The witch sighed, moving slowly and precisely to the music with Natasha by her side. "I thought I would find you and Loki in the supply closet." She sounded... Slightly jealous, to be honest.

"Nah, we were thirsting over Strange," I rebuffed the implications firmly.

Natasha whistled. "I can see why."

"I know, right? Almost got Brucie to drag me out of here caveman style with that voodoo shit," I laughed soundly, looking around for the DJ booth. The music was... Nice, but definitely not for solo or group dancing. "You wanna go with me or stay here? I'll bribe the DJ into playing something more... Dancy," I said, reaching into my bra to pull out a fat roll of cash.

"Oh, I want to see that," Natasha proclaimed, pulling me towards our destination by the hand. Wanda followed obediently and curiously. In ten minutes I spent making puppy eyes, Natasha was giving DJ her best murder face and Wanda blankly stared at the array of electronics, I became $300 poorer but the tunes playing overhead slowly turned away from dark rock and into club bass territory.

When a particular song began playing, I pulled out my two girls behind me without a twitch, snagging and downing two shots from a tray standing on the bar. "Tuesday on mind, think about you all the time..." I sang along, body falling into the familiar rhythm of bopping to house music. Natasha joined quickly whereas Wanda was a little confused... But still, she had the spirit.

Few more songs and few more shots in, I was feeling myself. Wanda was tipsy, too, as she had followed in my footsteps upon Natasha's amused urging. Slowly but surely, we danced and drank our way back to our table.

Tony and Stephen were engaged in a staring contest - which was quite funny to me in my state. Tony didn't flinch, didn't blink, just traced his thumb along his jawline just like every time he was deep in thought.

"Loki!" Wanda happily exclaimed, disrupting the tense silence with a fit of drunken giggling. "She bribed the DJ, that was so cool!" The witch snorted as me and Natasha let out slightly embarrassed laughs. Technically, Wanda was still underage and - unsurprisingly - a total lightweight.

"Let's get some fresh air, darling," Loki approached the situation courteously, holding the girl steady and gently steering her towards the patio.

I took the empty chair immediately, plopping with little grace, throwing a leg over the other and leaning back in my chair, exposing the sparkling skin of my legs.

"You're responsible for this noise?" Stephen gestured to the people dancing, now much more closely and loosely, all over the room.

"Baby girl, if you keep dancing like that, I won't mind the terrible noise," Tony winked at me salaciously, evidently having seen me throwing it back like a pro despite my heels and fancy dress. "Where'd you learn that?"

"I just had lots of practice... " I trailed off insinuatingly, eyeing each man for a moment longer than necessary. The darkness in their eyes answered all my questions, the alcohol on my blood making me much bolder in my leering towards them both. I wasn't hiding my eyes as they lazily ran over Stephen's and then Tony's form. The latter knew what it meant, usually his pants were undone in mere minutes after I looked at him like that.

Today, I was a Fae. I was supposed to be playful and I was going to play. My eyes averted before they reached Tony's, focusing instead on Natasha and being all but thrown around by an overly excited Thor. The spy took it like a champ, I doubt I could survive the space-lambada or whatever the fuck it was that the inebriated Asgardian was doing.

A somber silence hung over us, each person eyeing the others with secretive looks. Despite the situation having the full potential to be hot, it was starting to get a little bit unsettling. If I was honest with myself I had completely no idea how to party with old people. Bruce didn't seem to be the dancing kind, Strange looked way too unapproachable and Tony was well on his way to getting shitfaced. I hid behind my drink as I scouted the dance floor for Clint or Sam figuring that they probably wouldn't refuse me a dance or three.

Bingo. Sam caught my eyes quickly and made way to our table in response to the dejected look I gave him. "Sup, baby?" The Falcon-turned-Greek-demigod asked me as he promptly downed a glass of water. The sheen of sweat covering his face indicated he wasn't the one to sit around with a phat beat in the background. "Wanna bust some moves?'

"Sure do," I replied, taking hold of his outstretched hand. "Tony and Stephen are way too busy flirting to dance with me." I pouted, ignoring Tony's indignant shrieking and Sam's laughter. We found ourselves a cozy little spot between all the grinding, writhing sweaty bodies, just barely in direct eyesight of the pouting men we'd left at the table.

"Are you making moves on me now?" Sam laughed as our bodies slid close and moved to the rhythm in perfect sync. The man met all my expectations, he had all the prerequisites for being a good dancer and he did not disappoint.

"Nah, Bird, you've been friend zoned," I snarked, alcohol loosening my lips. "I already have my hands full with my geniuses, sorry man." I was twirled and spun, my hands promptly landing back on his chest. It wasn't that much different than dancing dirty during one of the house parties I used to frequent. Just a lot less pelvic thrusting...

Sam threw his head back, baring his pearly whites in mirth. "At least spare this man a good dance?" The bass dipped lower and I found myself turned around, facing Tony, Bruce and Stephen. Their smirks were dark and nearly identical as they watched me slot and sway my hips in rhythm with the man behind me. "I know you got some moves, baby, don't be shy," Sam teased me.

Who was I to deny such a polite request?Alcohol was fueling my bravery and all but evaporating my sense of shame. Aw, yiss. In short, I was throwing ass like crazy and Sam - Sam was catching it, expertly. My dress wasn't deterring me in the slightest bit, adding an extra flair to my movements. In a moment, my worries were forgotten and replaced by a rush of endorphins coming from the pure joy brought on by dancing.

We danced until my feet hurt. At some point Sam was swished away by a tall, beautiful woman and I traded places with some other girl, landing in the arms of a bulky blonde man dressed as Aquaman. In my drunken haze, Jason Momoa had nothing on him. I threw it back like there was no tomorrow, downing a drink that was given to me with little regard.

Tony's eyes met mine. He was watching me like a hawk, taking tantalising little sips of his whiskey and licking his lips every now and then, diverting his attention only to absentmindedly nod in Strange's direction or smile at a person who wanted a piece of his spotlight. I consumed all of Tony's free attention span. It made me feel powerful, invincible.

I danced a bit more before the booze got to me, making me feel a little too woozy for comfort. Eyes on the table, I stumbled my way to Tony, noisily plopping down in his lap.

His mouth was set in a firm line. "Having fun, Princess?"

"Yeah," I moaned, hugging him around the neck. My body was heating up rapidly, my heart raced. Wait a minute... "Shit," I came to a conclusion as quickly as Stephen's eyebrows rose when he took a look at my face.

"Are you high?" The sorcerer asked me with a deal of concern.

"Prolly," I spoke, sighing. Did I pop X at some point? My memory was hazy. "I'm good tho. Give me some water and I'll be good," I knew my drugs, okay? A little bit of extasy didn't hurt anybody now and then. I had stayed mostly clean ever since my and Tony's and Bruce's relationship started.

To my surprise, Tony chuckled. "I really have no place to judge, Princess, but a warning would have been nice. I hope you had the common sense to get that shit tested, at least." He spoke, slowly stroking my damp hair and allowing me to all but rub myself on him. He smelled so good.

"Tony, please," Stephen rolled his eyes, evidently preparing for a lecture.

I stopped him in his tracks. "Don't act like you're a saint, seventy percent of college students I know do Adderall and coke just to keep up with the curriculum. I call bullshit."

Tony snorted as Stephen rolled his eyes, looking away. Predictable. For all that Strange wanted to appear high and mighty, he wasn't shit. I'd googled him and asked around about him shortly after we'd first met. The sorcerer was no stranger to the lifestyles of the rich and famous. He had more than a few invitation-only parties behind his back. I couldn't wait to tear the self-satisfied, smug smirk off the bastard's face.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

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softboywriting · 5 years ago

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Go The Fuck To Sleep | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn make some big decisions. [established friend/relationship] [non au]

Word Count: 1.7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The second day of Shawn being home from tour you show up at his apartment. You're a good friend, well, better than good. You and Shawn have history, a long history. On and off dating, deciding to be friends, hooking up, both wanting more but never finding the right time. Things are complicated. It's just after eight and you've got a bag in hand with a wrapped present for him. You knock twice and wait. He's awake. You didn't text him before you showed up, but you know how he is.

"Hello?" Shawn asks, opening the door to see you standing there. He grins. "About time you showed up."

"I've got things to do that are better than babysit you."

"Babysit? I'm a baby now?"

"You've always been a baby." You shove his chest playfully and he backs up to let you inside. You pass him the gift from your bag and he turns it over in his hands curiously. "Open it."

"What did you get me?" He mumbles, tearing off the paper and revealing a copy of Go The Fuck To Sleep. "Wh-"

"You need to sleep." You look him over and then grab his jaw in your hand. "It looks like you haven't been getting any rest and frankly you look like shit. You look old."

Shawn's face drops and he stares at you, hurt in his eyes. "Take that back."

"No. You just don't want the truth."

"I'm fine."

"You're exhausted. When did you last eat a full square meal? When did you last eat three meals a day and snacks? Shawn, you're killing yourself."

He walks past you and into the living area. "I didn't think you'd show up and berate me."

"Well someone oughta because you obviously aren't doing shit about it yourself."

"You think I don't know?!" He rounds on you, walking back angrily and meeting you halfway. "You think I have no idea that I've lost ten pounds? That I forget to eat because I'm too busy and I'm stressed out? Do you really think I don't notice that I'm not getting enough sleep? Because trust me I know." His voice falters and he clenches his jaw, trying to hold himself together.

You lay your hand on his chest and his heart is pounding wildly. "I'm here to help you."

"How?" He sighs tiredly.

"By staying with you and making sure you're okay." You slide your hand up to cup his cheek. "You're home now, you don't have to work or stress about anything. Your only obligation is you."

"I'm so tired," he says brokenly. "I'm so, so tired."

"I know. Why don't you go lay down and close your eyes? I'll make some food for you to eat for the next few days."

"But I don't have anything."

"I'll order groceries for delivery." You push him toward the couch. "Relax. I swear I'll handle everything."

Shawn grabs your hand as you move to turn away to raid his kitchen. You raise your eyebrows and he pulls you toward him. "I don't know what I'd do without you." He says, hugging you tight.

"You'd survive. Just barely."

"Yeah, just barely."

_____________________

Three hours later and you've got Shawn's fridge and freezer stuffed with everything from a veggie tray to muffins and chicken tortilla soup, a specialty of yours. You've even portioned everything out, knowing he usually follows a pretty controlled diet. He's passed out on the couch when you go to check up on him. He's so cute, mouth hanging open, plush lips a little dry. You wonder how long it's been since he slept this hard.

Another half an hour passes and you keep busy by tidying up a bit. You don't want to turn the TV on lest you wake him and you definitely don't want to run the vacuum or anything. In the end it doesn't matter because just as you settle down at the other end of the couch he sits bolt upright and looks around as if he has been punched.

"Whoa, hey, are you alright?" You lay your hand on his foot and he jerks it away.

A second passes as he gains his bearings. "Where...h- oh. I'm home." He flops back and slaps a hand over his heart. "I was having a nightmare that I was still on the bus and we crashed. I saw my apartment and for a second I thought I died and ended up here or something."

You chuckle softly. "No, you're not dead."

"How long was I out?"

"A few hours. I made food, probably enough for the week." You scoot over and take his feet onto your lap. "I'll stay the night if you want."

"Please? I've missed you. When you're around I feel normal, like I don't have to be someone that people expect me to be."

"Being on tour is that bad?"

He shrugs. "It gets to you after a while. Most days I'm fine, things are great. But then I start to shut down and spiral. It's...hard."

You pat his legs and sigh. "Well the tour is over. It's done and you're home and it's time to be Shawn again." You mutter softly to yourself. "My Shawn."

He sits up and smiles shyly. "Your Shawn? Are you trying to tell me something?"

"No, what, well...I guess?"

He pulls his feet off your lap and shifts around so he's sitting beside you, thigh pressed against yours. "You know that I'm down literally whenever you are. I'm off tour now and I've got some time we could...y'know...finally do this."

"I know...I just...I-"

"You're nervous."

"No, well yes, but that's not it." You let out a shaky breath. "I want to tell you something."

Shawn slides his hand over yours and threads your fingers together. "Anything."

You squeeze his hand tight, closing your eyes as if bracing for an impact. "I got the job."

"The job?"

"Think about it."

He pauses and suddenly it hits him. "The job! The producer gig! You're producing for Big Box records! When do you move out to LA? Are you gonna move? Oh my God I'm so proud of you!"

You grin big. "I actually have a proposal, um, you know how you got that place out there last year in Teddy's neighborhood?"

"Yeah, yes oh my God yeah you can stay there."

"Thank you, actually I mean that was part of my proposal but it wasn't all of it." You shake your head. "I shouldn't even bring this up. I wasn't going to say anything and it sort of came out. Nevermind. It's fine, thank you, I'd love to stay at your place out there."

"No no no no, hey, what's up? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing, it's fine we'll talk tomorrow. You should sleep."

"I'm not going to sleep when you have my brain going a mile a minute now. Tell me, whatever it is, I can handle it."

You sigh. "I got the job because...because I said I could get you to consider signing with Big Box. They want you really bad and I know your contract is up in a few months and so do they. I'm sorry and I understand if you hate me, I just wanted this job so badly I used your name and I shouldn't have."

"No...no actually uh, I've been thinking about signing with a new label." He runs a hand over his hair and yawns. "There's been some things going on that I'm not comfortable with, some ideas being tossed around. I'd like to get out before it's too late, yknow?"

"Shawn you can't be serious."

"I am, I'm so serious. We've always been on the same wavelength. I'm not mad that you used my name to get a job, I told you that you could ages ago. I didn't expect this but it's fine. It's time, like I said I've got some concerns right now and I've voiced them and things aren't being done to change anything. Five years is enough, I've got ideas and a vision for my music and if I can find that in Big Box Records I will."

You pull your hand away from his. "This isn't a spur of the moment decision! You can't just jump in head first! What if-"

Shawn grabs your face and kisses you, lips pressed hard to yours. "I'll go wherever you go. I'm so tired of being alone it's killing me and you're the only person who I've ever loved that wasn't family. This is our moment, we've waited for three years for the right time. If this isn't it then I don't know what is. I promise I'll meet with the execs and I'll do the whole song and dance and jump through the hoops. If it works out then it works out with the label, if not then I'll do everything I can to help you find another job."

"Shawn..." You press your forehead to his and his eyes roll back for a moment as if he's fighting sleep. "What if we're not right for each other? What if this is a mistake?"

"Three years has been plenty of time for making mistakes. If we were going to fall apart it would have happened by now. If you're ready, I'm ready. Let's make this happen."

"It's a big deal...are you sure? Are you even awake enough?"

He cups your face in his callused hands and focuses on you as best he can. "I've been sure about two things in my life. Playing music and wanting to wake up with you every day. So I'm asking outright, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yeah," you laugh softly. "Yeah I will."

Shawn wraps his arms around you and pulls you on top of him as he lays back. "God I've waited forever for this."

"Not forever, only a few years." You fluff his hair. "You really need to get some more sleep. I know we're making big decisions here but you are going to lose your mind if you keep yourself awake any longer."

He closes his eyes and smiles. "I think I can finally rest."

"Mmm. Good." You kiss his nose and he scrunches it up before his face relaxes and you're sure he's passed out. "I love you bud, now go the fuck to sleep."

End

——————–

Thank you so much for reading. Please reblog and share if you read/enjoyed it. -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes words #shawn mendes fluff #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes writing

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spurgie-cousin · 4 years ago

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WHW Royals Edition 👑 Part 1: Anne, Queen of Great Britain

Born: February 6th, 1665 at St James's Palace, Westminster, Middlesex, England Died: August 1st, 1714 (age 49) at Kensington Palace, Middlesex Reign: March 8th, 1702 - August 1st, 1714

I thought I’d give you guys a little intro to Anne, Queen of Great Britain as a start for my series on weirdo royals. I got big into her after seeing the Yorgos Lanthimos film The Favourite (can’t recommend enough) and that resulted in endless hours of internet wormholes about her bizarre and interesting life. I’ve read about a lot of fucked up royals in my life (truly there’s many) but it was only when I was reading about Anne that I kind of had an ‘a-ha’ moment about how really drastically the monarchial system can fuck a person up.

Queen Anne fits this bill for me for a lot of reason; she was a surprise Queen who was woefully underprepared for ruling, which led to people pushing their political agendas on her under the guise of genuine affection. It’s hard to know if the relationships that define her legacy and life in popular culture were genuine, or if they would’ve existed at all had she not been a royal. Her legacy is muddied by the traditional, patriarchal writers of history of course and it sometimes is hard to get a clear picture of who she really was, but here are a few tidbits about her life and rule:

Anne’s signature

1. Queen Anne was born Anne Stuart, daughter of James II and Anne Hyde and raised in the traditional way for aristocratic girls, with an education that emphasized on arts, language, and music. This eventually proved to suck dick for her big time later on in life when she became queen. Traditionally, girls were purposefully taught nothing useful about politics or history because it was assumed they would never rule (cough) and this left Anne very much lacking in the political discourse department as a monarch; all of her future speeches and even remarks made around political figures would have to be scripted by advisors. If she found herself off script and not knowing what to say, it’s said that she’d sometimes “move only her lips and make as if she said something when in truth no words were uttered.”

2. 8 year old Anne first met friend Sarah Jennings (Churchill) when she was a lady in waiting at just 5 years old. As you’ll see later on, Sarah goes on to be one of the (if not the most) influential person in the Queen’s life, becoming a trusted friend and political advisor.

3. Anne was what we would probably refer to today as a ‘hot mess express’. The poor gal had a myriad of health issues, both mentally and physically, all of which only got worse as she aged. She suffered from gout and an undefined auto-immune disorder (we think) as well as a bizarre eye-watering disorder and poor vision. It’s also pretty evident that she didn’t have the best relationship with alcohol or food and most likely developed a binge eating disorder later in her life (she was very large at the time of her death and there are a few accounts of her eating to the point of puking in front of other people).

4. Besides her relationships with Sarah and Abigail Masham, Queen Anne is also known mostly known for the tragic loss of her 17 pregnancies. Of all her births she had only 5 live babies, only one of which survived beyond infancy. Her son William was also afflicted with various illnesses all of his life and died at the age of 11.

Prince William, Anne’s longest surviving child

5. Anne became queen by accident, after her Catholic father was ousted as king by her protestant brother in-law. He and her sister ruled for a short time before dying of pneumonia and smallpox respectively with no heir in place, so Anne, who supported the protestant reformation, was crowned Queen.

6. Over the years Anne and Sarah Churchill became extremely close friends, and most accounts agree that Sarah had an incredible amount of influence over Anne’s political decisions. Sarah is said to have had a more natural affinity for politics, and to have had a completely opposite disposition than Anne. Some think that Sarah may have maintained the relationship only to keep her political control.

7. A lot of people that believe that Anne and Sarah were so close because they were lovers. The pair at one time wrote each other 4 letters a day, that included things like “I had rather live in a cottage with you than reign empress of the world without you,” “Oh come to me as soon as you can that I may cleave myself to you,” one of Queen Anne’s “I can’t go to bed without seeing you… If you knew in what condition you have made me, I am sure you would pity.” I don’t think I necessarily share that opinion, for reasons you’ll see below.

8. Sarah was the only person under Anne that was allowed to speak to her without using a title. The two often used their nicknames for each other: Mrs. Morley (Anne) and Mrs. Freeman (Sarah).

Sarah Churchill, 1702

9. A lot of scholars disagree with the notion that Anne had any gay affairs with anyone, including Sarah, for a few reasons; first because, at the time, it was just apparently normal to act hella gay with your friends, particularly for royals, so excessive touching or writing wouldn’t have raised any alarms. Most historians attribute this to the extreme separation of the sexes, particularly in upper class households. Most people spent 90% of their time exclusively with people of their own gender, so it was a means to have your emotional needs met within the confines of your station. If an aristocrat started ‘friend flirting’ with you, it was also seen as rude to not reciprocate.

10. A few other reasons Anne was probably not lesbian: she had a pretty good relationship with her husband (Prince George of Denmark), and the 17 pregnancies thing suggests that they weren’t having any problems in the bedroom department. Also, when Anne later became close friends with Sarah’s cousin Abigail, Sarah became jealous and began to spread rumors that the two were gay lovers (more on that below). This rumor probably stuck and carried over into other areas of her life. Or maybe Anne was bi and both things were true, who knows.

Anne circa 1685. All physical descriptions of Anne, especially in her later years, don’t describe her in the most glowing terms, which is insane to think about when I see portraits like this.

11. Anne began to grow distant from Sarah after her husband’s death in 1708, which all sources agree flung the queen into a huge depression. She was said to have sat by and kissed his dead body long after his death. Sarah took a tough love approach to try and snap the queen out of it, which backfired. This was when Anne began to get close to Abigail Masham, which infuriated Sarah.

12. Sarah was so mad at Anne for this that she literally wrote a song about her and Abigail being gay together, printed it out on a pamphlet, and passed it around court Mean Girls-style. The pamphlet read: “When as Queen Anne of great renown / Great Britain’s sceptre swayed / Beside the Church she dearly loved / A dirty chambermaid O Abigail that was her name / She starched and stitched full well / But how she pierced this royal heart / No mortal man can tell However for sweet service done / And causes of great weight / Her royal mistress made her, Oh! / A minister of state Her secretary she was not / Because she could not write / But had the conduct and the care / Of some dark deeds at night.”

13. Besides Sarah, a lot of people took Anne’s relative political ignorance as an invitation to push their own political agendas. It didn’t help that her reign coincided with a rapid development of a 2 party parliamentary system, as the gap between the protestant Whigs and the Catholic Tories began to widen.

14. One of Anne’s crowning political achievements was the 1707 Act of Union uniting England and Scotland under the banner of Great Britain (she had good ideas sometimes, although it’s hard to tell if they came from her or her many influential advisors). Consequently, she was the first ruler to ever rule over united Great Britain.

15. After a series of pretty horrible strokes, poor Anne died at the age of 49 in August of 1714 with no heirs and without reconciling with Sarah Churchill. To her credit, it’s said that despite her failing health she continued to attend cabinet meetings as often as possible until her death. She is buried beside her husband and children in the Henry VII Chapel on the South Aisle of Westminster Abbey.

#weird history wednesday

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ilovereadingandilovebreathing · 4 years ago

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One Spider-Man and a Baby

A/N: This was supposed to be part of a 5+1 in response to an ask prompt, but I’ve been stuck for...honestly I have no idea how long at this point, and I really want this one to see the light of day, so I’m posting it.

Summary: Peter is definitely out past his bedtime, but to be fair, babies are also definitely not supposed to be out in the dead of night...or in dark, spooky alleys.

It’s a slow night on patrol.

Peter is sitting atop a Subway, his legs hanging over the edge, and he’s just finished munching on a complimentary six-inch. He stands, stretches, and shoots his balled up trash in to the large silver can below him before hopping to the ground, opting to walk in the shadows instead of webbing so that his food can settle.

It’s very early in the morning (or late at night, depending on how you look at it); it’s low traffic hours, so for once, Peter is able to navigate his own city as Spider-Man with ease. Every once in a while, he passes a pair or a group of partygoers, slurred exclamations of “Spider-Bro!” and “Wow, Spider-Man!” making his cheeks burn with pride. He’s just fist-bumping an especially enthusiastic passerby when a new sound reaches his ears.

The cries of a baby definitely aren’t novel sounds to Peter, especially around bedtime in New York, but something about these cries are wrong, aside from the fact that it’s almost 1 in the morning. They seem raw, desperate, even.

Following his ears, Peter comes to the mouth of an alleyway. He listens for a moment more before slowly inching his way into the darkness.

“Hey, Karen,” Peter mumbles. “Do we have night vision?”

“Of course, Peter.”

Instantly, the small space is lit up in a strange, fluorescent green that Peter has seen on numerous ghost-hunting shows.

“Seriously? Green? I feel like I’m on ‘Ghost Hunters.’”

“I believe that was the intended effect. Mr. Stark was aware of your television preferences.”

Peter smiles a bit, but it melts when he realizes where the cries are coming from. Peter carefully steps toward a large dumpster and hoists himself up; a dark blue infant car seat sits on top of a pile of full black garbage bags. Peter quickly dives over the edge of the large bin and wades toward the source of the continuous cries until he’s able to lift the blanket draped over the handle; the smallest baby Peter has ever seen lays swaddled inside. The tiny human’s face is so wrinkly and pinched that even Peter can tell it’s the closest to a newborn you can get without being in a hospital. Peter feels his stomach turn over when reality sets in: someone probably abandoned this baby here. The night vision just picks up the tear tracks on the baby’s cheeks, and Peter’s heart clenches.

“Karen, can you scan the baby for injuries?”

“She appears to be unharmed, Peter, but her body temperature is low. Considering she is a newborn, I suggest skin-to-skin contact if possible.”

“Oh....” Peter considers for a moment. “I have my Midtown hoodie. It’s pretty thick.” He knows his backpack is webbed up behind the aforementioned Subway, about fifteen minutes away, but he knows he can’t leave the baby behind. “You said skin-to-skin, right, Karen?”

“Yes, Peter.”

“Okay, Babygirl, we’re gonna get you warm.” Peter hits the spider logo in the center of his suit, and it becomes lose all around him. He slips out of the top half of his uniform and reaches into the car seat; he carefully brings the squirming infant against his chest and grits his teeth when she cries louder at the movement and harsh cold. He holds the surprisingly light little body with one arm and then the other as he slips them back into his sleeves. He presses the little spider again, and the suit becomes form-fitting around them. “Hey, Karen, can you loosen the suit around Babygirl?”

Immediately, the pressure against his chest lessens, and he cradles the little one there, shivering at how cold she is against his warm skin.

“Can you put the heater on low, Karen? Don’t want to hurt her.”

His suit is instantly less warm than normal, and Peter hugs Babygirl close. She’s still crying, so he tries to bounce her a bit, like he’d seen on countless T.V. shows.

“She’s probably hungry, huh, Karen?”

“Most likely.”

“Mmmhmm...Is there like a shelter or something nearby?”

“May I suggest a hospital?”

Peter smacks his forehead. “Duh. Get me directions to the closest one with a 24 hour emergency room.”

“Done. Directions starting.”

Peter grabs the carrier and sets off under Karen’s direction. It’s an hour journey on foot, but Peter would rather not risk upsetting the baby more than has already been done.

As they’re walking, Peter tries to keep Babygirl as steady as possible, running a hand over her head over and over, cupping the infant to him as he silently pleads for her to calm down.

“Karen, what calms babies down?”

“Top results include: feeding.”

“Can’t do that.”

“Diaper changes.”

“Also can’t do that.”

“Pacifiers.”

“Didn’t see one.”

“Rocking.”

“Limited ability right now.”

“And singing.”

“If I do that, she’ll scream.” Peter snorts.

“Why is that, Peter?”

“Let’s just say I’m not the best singer.”

May may not be his biological aunt, but he definitely inherited his tone deafness from her by proxy.

“You don’t have to be. Just the sound of a voice can be comforting. Studies show that babies are calmed by hearing familiar voices talking, but singing has been shown to be even more effective.”

“What about humming?”

“Close enough.”

“Hmmm...this is weird, Karen, but I have ‘Bella Notte’ from Lady and the Tramp stuck in my head right now.”

“I can play that quietly for you, if you want.”

“That works.”

The opening accordion notes of the Disney classic play quietly around them, and Peter smiles. “I’ve always loved this song. There’s just something about it.”

“Are you going to sing along, Peter?”

“I already told you I’m awful, Karen.”

“You can still hum. The vibrations might be soothing for Babygirl.”

“I guess-hey, Bella. I’ll call her Bella. That’s nicer than Babygirl.”

“Bella is a nice name. It means ‘beautiful.’”

“I like it. Bella Notte...” Peter takes a deep breath and silently resigns himself to humming for Bella’s sake.

The baby has quieted down quite a bit by the time the hospital comes into view, and Peter has literally memorized “Bella Notte” as it plays for the 20th time.

The ER only has a few scattered patrons when they arrive, and thankfully, none of them really acknowledge the strange pair. “Karen, voice disguise.” Peter whispers as he crosses into the reception area.

“Uh, hi. I’m, uh-”

“Carrying a baby in your shirt?” The receptionist is terse but smiling just a bit as Peter fumbles with the carrier.

“Uh, yeah. I found her abandoned in an alley.”

“Oh, dear.” The woman clicks her tongue and picks up her phone. “Katie,” She sighs after a few moments. “Can you come to my desk please? An infant. Yup. Thank you.” She smiles softly at him this time. “One of our pediatric nurses is coming. There is a single bathroom back here if you you want to take her out...privately.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” Peter tentatively rounds the desk and nods when the receptionist, Patricia, her nametag says, lets him in the locked door.

In the privacy of the one-person restroom, Peter rips off his mask and sags against the wall, breathing deeply and unevenly as he tries to get his bearings. He can’t believe he walked all the way here with a tiny baby in his suit. He presses the logo and carefully extracts her, immediately bundling her in the blanket he’d found her under. He realizes in the light that she’s only wearing a dirty white onesie, and he feels tears spring to his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Bella.” Peter coos softly, his voice breaking as he really looks over her scrunched up face for the first time. “You’re safe now.”

Before he can think, he places a featherlight kiss on her little forehead, and his heart flutters. He clenches his eyes against the tears welling there as she whimpers in his arms, exhausted from crying for who knows how long. The boy stares at the baby for a few more moments before sighing deeply and pulling his mask back over his tired features.

Peter keeps the baby cradled to him with one arm and carries the car seat with the other; he carefully opens the bathroom door and inches out into the employee area behind the reception desk. A young woman with a brown ponytail and soft hazel eyes catches his gaze and gives him a small wave; she pushes off of the table she’s leaned against and meets him halfway.

“Hi, Spider-Man.” Her voice is like tinkling bells. “Pat says you have a visitor for me?”

“Yeah....I don’t know her name, so I’ve been calling her Bella.”

“That works for now.” Katie smiles and reaches out. “Mind if I take her off your hands?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Peter hesitates and looks down at Bella, his eyes filling again, and he feels himself blush. He looks back up at Katie but subconsciously pulls the baby closer.

“You can hug her good-bye if you want,” Katie offers softly, gently pulling the carrier from his arm. “I’ll be right out front with Pat when you’re ready.”

“Okay. Thank you, Katie.”

The young nurse smiles and leaves quietly.

Peter looks down at Bella, his view of her distorted through tears. “You’re gonna be okay now, Bella. Katie and Pat will take good care of you.” Peter swallows thickly and places her laterally against his chest, bouncing her gently to comfort both of them, if he’s honest. He squeezes her against him and brings his head to rest on top of hers. “This is so weird. I only met you like an hour ago, but...I love you so much, Bella.” Peter sighs and sniffs before straightening up; he continues slightly rocking Bella as he walks toward Katie and Pat, the former continually smiling at him as he hands the tiny bundle over.

“She’ll be okay. Thank you for bringing her to us.” Katie pats his shoulder and holds an arm out. Peter is taken aback for a second until he really looks at her, sees the lines in her face and bags under her eyes. She suddenly reminds him of May, the desire to help and love so evident in every part of her, and he steps into her embrace. Katie squeezes him lightly and rubs a hand over his back. Peter breathes shakily, and she squeezes again before pulling away. “You’ll both be okay,” Katie promises.

“Why...was she abandoned?”

Katie’s eyes turn down at the corners. “Any number of scenarios for why, but Pat told me you found her in an alley.”

“In...a dumpster.” Peter chokes out.

“Sadly, not the first time we’ve heard of that, but she’s definitely better off now that she’s here. Our social worker specializes in infant care, so she’ll find a good foster family for her.” Katie pats his back one more time before holding Bella close to her; she runs a finger over her forehead.

“She was so cold when I found her,” Peter whispers. “But I think I helped warm her.”

“I’d say so; she doesn’t feel too cold at all. You did good, Spider-Man.” Katie turns back toward the door he came through, and Peter holds it open for her. “You’re welcome to stay here until we’re done looking her over and getting her settled, if you want.”

“I...I want to...” Peter sighs and rubs his arm. “But I already said good-bye. I should go home. Someone is waiting for me. Plus, I trust you guys.”

“Well, thanks.” Pat laughs and rubs his arm. “This is what we do, baby. She’ll be just fine. You did good.”

Peter nods, puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder as he passes, and heads out of the emergency room before he can break down.

It’s after 3am when Peter finally climbs in his window. He shouldn’t be surprised to find May asleep on his bed, but his vision, physical and otherwise, is a little hazy thanks to his senses being on alert ever since he left the hospital. It wasn’t like the normal shriek of danger but a buzz at the base of his neck, like the area there has somehow fallen asleep.

Peter shakes his head when he finds himself still sitting on the windowsill. He crosses to May silently and gently rubs her shoulder. “May?”

May stirs and squints up at him; her eyes widen before she sighs and laughs, slightly delirious. “Oh, shit, Peter. I always forget about you under there.” She sits up and stretches. “Why didn’t you call me? Way past curfew.” She yawns into her hand.

Peter hits the spider logo and strips out of the suit, exhaustion flooding his bones and tears in his eyes at her comment. “I’m sorry, May. Crazy night.”

“Yeah?”

Peter slips into a t-shirt and sweatpants and turns to face his aunt.

May’s expression falls when she really sees Peter’s face.

“Oh, baby, what happened?”

Peter bites his lip and blinks, releasing a few of the tears he wouldn’t let fall in the hospital. “That’s exactly it. I...I found a baby.”

“Oh my god.” She’s across the room and hugging him before he can blink again. She pulls him back toward the bed and hugs him close as he begins trembling.

May hugs him against her cups the back of his head; she looks down at him and murmurs, “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve helped you, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never had a baby, May.” Peter says between shuddering breaths. “And I was six when you got me.”

“Touché.” May brushes some bunched up hair form his forehead. “But I had cousins growing up. I know how to deal with babies.”

“I just....didn’t think to. I took care of her, though. Took her to an emergency room. I had it handled.”

“Good thinking, kiddo.”

“It was Karen’s idea.”

“Well good on Karen, then.”

Peter nods mutely, staring blankly at the floor.

May wipes the stray tears from his cheeks and just lets them sit in silence for a few minutes, letting Peter get himself together before a yawn shudders through her. They both laugh a bit, and May asks, “Good?”

Peter nods.

“Good.” May carefully detaches herself and picks up his bedside water glass. “I’ll fill this for you, then bed time.” She goes and returns swiftly, kissing him tenderly on the brow while whispering, “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. The hero with a heart of gold.”

Peter’s smile is wobbly, but he forces it up for her.

When she leaves, he lays on top of his covers for a little while, staring at his ceiling. Even with his windows and doors closed and locked tight, Peter can’t seem to shake that buzz in his senses.

It’s a little after 5am when his eyes finally fall closed, though the threat was long gone.

Stories below him and hours before, a hooded figure had slipped off into the night, having been at the right place at the right time for his own gain.

#spiderman fic #spiderman fanfic #peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #mcufanfic #mine #spiderbabyfanfic #may parker

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spell-cleaver · 4 years ago

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DAY 22: WHUMPTOBER: Do These Tacos Taste Funny To You? - Poisoned @whumptober2020

DAY 23: WHUMPTOBER: What’s A Whumpee Gotta Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here? - Exhaustion

DAY 28: WHUMPTOBER: Such Wow. Many Normal. Much Oops. - Accidents

DAY 10: ANGSTOBER: Poisoning @angstober

As you can see, this one covers several prompts, I was being thrifty with this, but here we are.

“You,” his partner told him, “are an excellent dancer.”

Luke smiled at her. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he told her, spinning her around again—and it was true. Leia had the poise to her that he would never been able to achieve, twenty years raised as his father’s heir or not, and she always made him look better when they danced together.

Which was just another reason to dance with her, as if the opportunity for clandestine discussion it offered wasn’t good enough.

The song ended and they bowed to each other, Luke smiling at her and about to ask for another one when he caught a glimpse of something over her shoulder—his father, watching him. He inclined his helmet ever so slightly and Luke took his leave of Leia to move towards him, gracefully turning down another courtier who tried to talk to him, picking up the drink he’d put aside for the dancing and taking another sip from it.

“How badly are you suffering, Father?” he asked, stifling a yawn now that he was away from the public eye. It was past midnight, he’d been here since sundown, and he was tired.

“Terribly,” came the response. “Every new moment in this ballroom is an agony.”

Luke laughed to himself, though his heart twinged at the fact he knew it was true, in a much more literal sense.

But that wasn’t exactly something he could help.

Vader eyed the glass in Luke’s hand judgementally and Luke took another sip, almost defensively. “Did you call me over here as a favour because you could tell how exhausted I was? Or was there something you wanted to talk about?”

Vader folded his arms behind his back and started walking—slowly, so Luke could keep up with his massive strides—towards and through the side corridor that led off from the ballroom. Luke hurried after him, frowning, very aware that Leia’s gaze was burning into his back.

“Father?” he called after him, then repeated when he’d caught up and was walking by his side. “Where are we going?”

“The Emperor has requested your presence,” Vader said. “Something about your composure at this ball.”

Luke frowned. “I was under the impression I was doing well—that was why he left me to my own devices.” Palpatine had sat and watched over the room for much of the night, at first, before he’d retired, claiming that it was time for the youths to have their fun. Luke had no idea what he’d meant by that, but he hadn’t partaken in anything near as fun as His Majesty seemed to have been expecting.

“And you were,” Vader said. “Perhaps that is what he wishes to speak to you about.”

Luke nodded. He was already tired—trying to untangle Palpatine’s machinations now was making him feel dizzy. He had a headache.

“That’s plausible, I suppose— Oh.” He blinked, and suddenly he was on the floor staring. The glass that had been in his hand was in pieces on the floor, his drink seeped across and between the flagstones, mingling with something red. He glanced at his hand and winced. Blood and shards, embedded in his palm.

He glanced at his other arm and found that had not been spared either—minor cuts grazed it all the way down.

“Oh,” he said, blinking slowly. “That…”

His father was watching him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah… It was just an accident.” Luke blinked again, then gingerly pushed himself to his feet, wincing. The poor servants would have to see that and clean it up; he should probably go to the medbay to get the glass in his hands taken out, get some bandages…

But no excuse would satisfy his father’s master. Not if he was late. So when his father started walking again, he kept pace, and when they reached the grand double doors of the throne room he strode in without hesitation, hands still seeping blood.

Even when he noticed that no royal guards were in attendance.

He strode right in.

Palpatine was on his throne, though the shadows seemed darker and longer today than they usually did—Luke didn’t take a moment to dwell on why. Nor did he want to think about why he was suddenly so… weak, bowing and kneeling before his Emperor, his legs trembling, feeling like he was about to throw up.

He had nothing to fear.

He had nothing to fear, did he?

“Luke,” Palpatine said warmly, “how are you finding the celebrations?”

Luke kept his head bowed and respectful, knee still to the floor. “As spectacular as ever, Your Majesty. Though I grow more and more tired as the evening drags on.”

“Ah, yes,” Palpatine said, rising from his throne. “I imagine you had a busy day, committing treason.”

For a moment those words didn’t compute—then Luke jerked his head up in shock, mouth agape as he stared. “What? Your Majesty, I—ah!”

There were tight hands—solid, durasteel hands—around his wrists, constricting, digging the glass further in. He cried out.

His father did not release his grip.

“Do you deny it?” Palpatine continued, coming down the steps with a thud, thud, thud of his cape. “I am aware that the moment I left the ballroom, you were passing intelligence to the Princess Leia. Did you think you could get it past me?”

Luke coughed, head spinning now, pain clouding everything crimson. “Master— Father—”

“Do you deny it?” Vader rumbled, right in his ear. He sounded angry.

No, Father, no, I never meant to betray you, it wasn’t you I turned my back on, no—

He opened his mouth—to say what, he didn’t know—

“I have the princess in custody as well. Whatever you say, she will be searched—and if you are found to be lying, in whatever you say, she will be killed. I am certain that she is carrying smuggled information on her person, but if I am found to be mistaken, then the both of you will live. If you tell the truth, and you were both Rebels… I can promise her amnesty. Only if you cooperate.”

Luke swallowed.

There wasn’t any choice to make there.

“Yes,” he confessed. “I passed information to her.”

Vader constricted his grip and Luke cried out, blood running in rivulets down his wrists.

Palpatine raised an eyebrow at it as it dripped onto his polished floor. “Had a little accident, did we? My my, you don’t appear to be in your right mind—perhaps that is as good an explanation for treason against the men who gave you everything as any.”

Luke wasn’t in his right mind—he could see that now; or rather, he couldn’t see. Everything blurred in a cackling of colours and no matter how much he blinked, it would not clear.

But still, the realisation filtered through the haze.

“Poison,” he choked out.

“Yes. I never expected Lord Vader to be so talented at subtlety, but here we are.” Palpatine stepped ever closer, until his robes brushed Luke’s knees, towering over him. “We agreed that if I was wrong, we would give you the antidote. But if I was correct…”

His foot lashed out, then, and pain exploded in Luke side; he was shoved hard onto the floor, head hitting and ringing. He spat blood.

“Well, it would be wrong to give an antidote to a traitor. So enjoy your last few moments of life, dear Luke—I know you have been the Fulcrum agent in our midst for years. I know you have actively worked against us. I am sure your death with be painful enough to make up for all of that.”

Palpatine bent down to stare him in the eye, those sickly irises like searchlights.

Then there was a flash of red.

Luke shouted, yanking back as heat burned against his face, and— and—

Palpatine fell back with a wheeze.

There was something cold at Luke’s lips—he spat and choked and struggled, but then something cold was in his mouth and down his throat and in his head.

“What!?” He coughed, sitting up—when had Vader released him—and glaring. Everything still spun, but he was fairly sure that black blob was his father. “What— what are you— you poisoned me—”

“And you betrayed me,” Vader snapped, and Luke flinched. There was an entire maelstrom of fury there, just under the surface, and he couldn’t… “But you are alive. You had the antidote. The Emperor is dead.”

Luke, with his slowly clearing vision, glanced at Palpatine—and flinched at the body he saw there. “You…”

“Stabbed him. Yes.”

“Why?”

“He was going to kill you. You’re a traitor.”

“What? I don’t understand—”

“I poisoned you,” his father declared, and his words were a thunderclap, “to save your life.”

#whumptober2020 #whumptober #angstober #angstober2020 #luke skywalker #darth vader #for darkness shows the stars #sheev palpatine #my writing #random words on a page #flash fiction #flash fiction: star wars

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heroprose · 5 years ago

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the regular;

a/n. well what do u know.... turns out i WILL be writing for jojo on this blog...... @jojosmilktea, that is!! hi jojo i was ur bnha spring event anon! and i’m SOOO sorry this is late RIP!!!

ship. shoto todoroki x reader

summary. bubble tea shop au. it’s true that he knows your order by heart, but he wishes he knew a little more.

to be quite honest, you didn’t know this bubble tea shop even existed in this part of the city.

it certainly didn’t look the part, all pristine with white stone walls and flower boxes hooked onto the closed glass windows. no, in fact it looked a little too bougie for this gray high rise district and you suspect that if it were not for the current downpour, wherein great big rivulets of water are endlessly streaming down the streets, hipsters would populate this cafe’s space in no time.

you cannot blame them, of course. it’s certainly a nice building and totally instagram-worthy. but what attracts you to it is not the vintage stone walls nor the massive poster plastered on the inside of the glass window, with vibrant letters that spell out NEW SEASONAL FLAVORS! but instead, it’s the generous pink awning in front that’s saving you from the insidious downpour.

you were supposed to do a little grocery shopping before heading home, damn it. technically, though, you could brave the rain for a while and shop for bread and eggs while sopping wet, but it’s a deeply unappealing idea. it doesn’t help that your go-to grocer with the terrific deals is three train stops away either and that your phone is dead, drained from too many rounds of crossy road on your commute long before the rain even began.

restless, you squint through the window of the shop inconspicuously and gape in horror as you realize it is just as cute inside as it is outside. from what you can tell, it’s set up like a little garden party, with metal outdoor chairs and circular tables and the tiles even have flower smiley face stickers on them. oh no.

it is something of a relief you’ve only discovered this bubble tea shop now because any earlier would have you blowing your bank account on extra boba and grass jelly. and in this economy? not ideal.

still, your eyes waver to the poster again. rose milk tea? peach iced tea? the prices aren’t listed anywhere so you presume they must be absolutely monstrous. completely insane, probably, and jacked up immensely to compensate for the expenses gone in the decor alone and--

“we’re open, you know. you can come in.”

you pull away from the window hastily, letting your back bump into the metal back of chair. biting back a cry of pain, you eye the speaker head-to-toe before letting your shoulders slack. the black apron tied at his waist screams barista. actually, everything about this dude screams barista, from the rolled up sleeves to the vaguely disheveled collar. even the watch on his wrist-- woah. is that a limited edition tag heuer watch? you blanch a little.

he grips the broom with both hands and gestures with the jerk of his chin to the door. “you can come in,” he repeats. his bangs flutter about his forehead thanks to the gusts of wind and it’s a bit mesmerizing to see the red and white flutter like that.

“oh,” you say, desperate to recompose yourself as you pretend you weren’t wringing out droplets of water from your clothing just minutes before. “it’s okay, thank you. i’m just waiting for the rain to pass.”

the barista opens his mouth but before he can speak, a loud clap of thunder zips through you and goosebumps erupt across the expanse of your skin. with ears ringing, you wince and the tag heuer-wearing fellow only watches. you purse your lips, glancing from him. to the onslaught of rain, to finally the door.

well. so much for staying outside. wordlessly, he pulls the door open for you and you oblige quietly, mumbling a small word of thanks as you pass him.

unsurprisingly, the shop is wholly vacant, save for him, the boy who follows you in, and another barista behind the counter, who leans against the table behind him with arms crossed. the radio is on but it’s turned down so low that it might as well be off.

it would be painful to loiter in this shop for an hour or so without buying anything, so begrudgingly, you pull out your wallet and pray to whatever higher deity up there that you won’t get hooked on their drinks and subsequently, their freakish prices. you’ve got a budget, for goodness sake.

when you step to the counter, the barista that met you outside sets his broom aside to meet you on the other side. “what would you like?” he asks automatically, with the tilt of his head. you glance over the menu above his head despite knowing your answer deep inside your heart.

“taro milk tea, please,” you say, bringing your gaze back to him. a trickle of rainwater slides down the curve of his cheek and you have to tear your gaze away. “medium, with boba. and extra sugar too.”

“will that be it?”

“yes,” you reply with your eyes downcast, carefully deciding on whether to use cash or credit. maybe you can use some of your spare coins this time.

his gold name tag says “shoto,” and it gleams even in your peripheral vision as he nods and turns to the other barista with the spiky hair who stands a few ways’ away and glowers a bit.

“katsuki,” says shoto. “one medium taro milk tea with--”

“yeah, yeah,” says the other barista snappishly. “i heard. i’m literally right here.” he pulls away from the table and exits to the back forcefully and you two watch him in relative silence. a guitar-heavy shawn mendes song plays in the background; played too softly for you to determine which one though.

shoto’s gaze swivels back to you, undisturbed by the attitude his coworker just presented and so you do your best to remain indifferent as well. it is similarly pure irony to have such a gentle cafe hosted by such personalities.

“name?” he simply asks and you tell him, not bothering to question why that was still necessary if you were the only customer in the entire shop.

and it is equally strange that after katsuki returns with your drink, about to hand it to you, shoto acts to intercepts with an extended hand to take the cup away.

“what are you doing?” says katsuki incredulously, drawing back.

shoto presents the sticker with the order printed on it in the air. “i need to put this on.”

“seriously? it’s not like you could hand it to the wrong person,” he mutters, but lets shoto tease it out of his hand before promptly returning to the kitchen again, letting the doors swing behind him. you refrain from smiling too wide as shoto carefully presses the sticker onto the cup behind the counter with an unexpectedly concentrated expression on his face.

when he utters your name to catch your attention, shoto slides your drink over to you, not letting go until your fingers accidentally brush over his. “here you go.”

“thank you,” you say brightly, shaking it for good measure. the ice clinks distract you momentarily from the noise of rain hitting concrete. the cream and purple taro swirl together brilliantly.

he nods, turning away to take a cleaning rag into his hands. shoto wipes at the counter meticulously, every once in a while swiping a smudge with his fingertips to evaluate his work. the quiet is only periodically punctured by the clap of thunder and when shawn mendes starts belting out the background adlibs via the radio.

“when do you think the rain will let up?” you muse absentmindedly, fingers drumming the raised counter as you push along your bubble tea and dig around the container for a straw of your favorite color. “not for long, i hope.”

shoto blinks, glancing up. “i heard it’ll last all through the night.”

steely dread pools at the bottom of your stomach. “no!” you gasp, confronting shoto. “really? i don’t have an umbrella or anything.” you didn’t hear anything of the sort, but then again, you haven’t checked the forecast since this morning. maybe you can wave down a cab or something. you let out a brief laugh of disbelief that rapidly devolves into a groan. “man. that stinks.”

he looks at you sympathetically, watching you deftly pierce the plastic seal top of your milk tea with more force than necessary.

you bring the straw to your mouth, sipping quietly as you think of your next line of action. the richness is disturbingly good and you’re saddened to know that you’ll be returning in the future, rain or no rain.

taking a seat in a metal chair, you finally give the shop a thorough glance over. with all the bright lights and pale wallpaper plastered with colorful stickers. above you, the ceiling vents buzz quietly. the whole shop is just--

“dazzling,” you murmur after several minutes, submitting to its glamour. “everything’s so pretty here.” the interior designer really went ham here and it shows. you fish your phone out of your slightly damp pocket and wipe at the screen with a sigh. you’d even take a photo if you could.

unbeknownst to you, shoto had left the counter upfront and is wiping down a table nearby as you speak. “thank you,” he says and you jolt, head snapping towards his direction. “we do our best to be presentable and comfortable.”

“full marks on both then,” you say breezily and a ghost of a smile teases at his lips before he walks away to the backroom.

he’s amused. did he think you were funny? your ears start to warm up a little and you drain your milk tea faster. in any case, it’s best that you brave the storm sooner than later.

there’s little doubt that the rain won’t be stopping any time soon and it would really be the icing on the cake if you not only got stuck in a thunderstorm but fell ill as well. you’ve realized, from all your years of life, that people don’t appreciate their functional nostrils until they get stuffed.

and you don’t know how much time passes in that cafe with the absence of clocks and your phone, but after catching yourself glancing over at shoto for the fifth time, wondering if you can make him smile like that again, you finally think that enough is enough. your chewing speeds up.

then you stand up, careful to not let the metal feet scrape the tiles. should you just book it, through the rain? or should you stand under the awning a little longer, hoping the rare cab will notice your helpless self and save you? as you mull these thoughts over, you toss the cup into the bin and wipe your hands with a spare napkin, getting rid of the condensation.

“wait.”

shoto’s calm voice makes you whirl around yet again.

as he walks closer, you notice that he’s gripping something in his hand and you can only bring yourself to stare as he presents it to you.

“take it,” he says. “this is my umbrella.”

your heart stutters for a second. “huh? no, i couldn’t,” you say hastily, dismissing him with a wave. “that’s really kind of you though, thank you.”

“but you said you didn’t have one.”

you give him a quizzical look. “but if i take yours, then you don’t have one.”

“katsuki-- um, the other person who works here-- lives near me. we commute together sometimes. so please,” he says, gesturing the closed umbrella. you wrap your fingers around the clear plastic gingerly to his coaxing. “take it.”

tears nearly prick your eyes as you lean over to pat him on the arm graciously. he’s more alarmed than anything else as you do, silently wide-eyed, and is it only then that you notice his eyes are different colors. “thanks, shoto. i’ll be back tomorrow to return it then. i promise!”

he gives you a quick nod. “i don’t work tomorrow. i’ll be here all weekend though.”

“alright, shoto. i’ll see you on the weekend.”

“stay safe.”

you’re already turning away and pushing open the door before you see the flicker of a smile pass over his visage again.

“you gave away your umbrella?” says katsuki after the cafe closes later that evening. his eyes narrow down at his fellow coworker sharply. “to a damn customer?”

“it’ll get returned,” assures shoto. his upper arm is warm where you had touched him, and his hand hovers over it for a second before he shrugs on his jacket.

“that’s not the point,” his coworker seethes, angrily hanging up his apron. “my car is two blocks over and i was relying on you to do your part in bringing the umbrella. idiot!”

ah.

you come back that sunny weekend, with shoto’s trusty transparent umbrella in hand... as well as the weekend after. and the weekend after that. sans the excuse of the umbrella, of course.

when it is katsuki that greets you at the counter, he does little to hide his disapproval of your order; grunting when you greet him with a cheerful “hi katsuki!” and grimacing each time when you smile and add, “with extra sugar!” to your order.

“you’re aware of how much sugar is already in this stuff, right?” he tells you.

“i’m here for a good time, not a long time,” you reply. “and are you really supposed to be asking me that? as someone who works here?”

katsuki scoffs and wordlessly punches your order in anyway. his brew, however, is immaculate without fail so you don’t question his tactics.

but when it is shoto... he greets you warmly, stretching the conversation by asking about how you are and about your day.

“the regular?” he eventually asks after several weeks of you making the same order as the last.

you smile. “the regular.”

sometimes, you loiter near the counter when it’s not busy. you learn, with some semblance of glee, that shoto is a student like yourself and he only works part-time-- the rainy afternoon you met him on had been a shift he was covering for someone else. other times all you can do is take your drink and wave him goodbye.

even on the extremely busy days where you cannot even find a vacant seat, there are brief seconds where you think of leaning against the wall and enjoying the atmosphere. it is a startling realization, how desperate you want to linger in his presence.

your affection is making you ill. ugh, and being bloated is not a good look on you either.

drinking taro milk tea at competitor bubble tea shops don’t even sate you. it’s always too watery, too thin; the flavors rounding off as bitter, over brewed tea. but you drink them to wean yourself off. you should probably stop drinking them altogether though.

some time passes before you can find it in yourself to return. the storefront is as pretty as it always is whenever you pass it by on your commute.

“hey, how are you? have you been alright?” asks shoto right off the bat, dropping his washrag haphazardly beside the sink when you find yourself at the counter again after the weeks of hearty self-restraint.

his concern is so vivid it unnerves you. it’s a funny and ill-placed nervous look on his face, eyebrows pulled tense. “i’m fine,” you say, “how have you been?”

“i’m well,” shoto says. “and... that’s good. it’s been a while. i thought you might have started getting your milk tea fix from somewhere else.” he pauses. “have you?”

his sincerity makes you throw your head back and laugh, but your stomach gurgles at the recollection of drinking so many subpar taro milk teas. “never,” you tell him finally. “i like this place too much. and the people here too.”

“i see.” shoto’s smile is bright this time, eyes so soft even as he speaks. “the regular then?”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, your own gaze crinkling up. “you know me so well, shoto.”

“quit freakin’ flirting at the counter,” snaps katsuki, mopping the floor vigorously. “do that shit when you’re not at work, icy-hot. it’s disgusting that i have to stand here and listen to you two.”

shoto frowns. “it’s not flirting. we have to be kind to customers.” he calls from the kitchen.

“kindness is you giving extra napkins, not asking if they’ve been going to other bubble tea shops. as if.”

“we’re... just friends then.”

“just friends, my ass. what, you think that extra sugar ass sweet tooth loser came in every week alone just to get tea? you know what...” katsuki’s peeved grumbles trail off until they’re no longer comprehensible.

shoto just ponders on this as he drains the sink.

“here,” says katsuki one saturday afternoon. “take it. and go.” he pushes the purple drink into your hand and wipes his own hand on his apron. “extra sugar. don’t blame me when your teeth fall out.”

“damn,” you say, although you are hardly taken aback by his crudeness anymore. “but i will. i’ve got a lot to do today, so i can’t stay and chat. bye guys!”

“take care,” says shoto just as katsuki says, “don’t care, didn’t ask.”

(when you wave goodbye, however, you are pleased to see that they both reciprocate kindly.)

by the time you eventually take a sip, you’re already on your way to the rail to get to your favorite grocery store. today, it’s buy one get one free bags of potatoes so you know you’ll be stocking up this time.

mindlessly, you pierce the top with your straw, careful to aim for the center. you give it a stir before taking a sip, the familiar creaminess filling your mouth.

although it’s... different, somehow.

sweeter, you think. did katsuki actually overload it with sugar this time? seemed like a weird prank to pull. perhaps he was teaching you a lesson but considering that he hasn’t been fired yet indicates that this was an infrequent occurrence. hopefully.

chewing the boba thoughtfully, you pull the cup away in order to squint at the dark text printed on the sticker. it’s the same as you always say it: a medium, iced, taro milk tea, with boba and 25% extra--

the word “sugar” is scrawled over with black ink, although not deliberately it seems. it’s just covered up with a slew of numbers and letters written unbelievably neat in spite of being on a cylindrical cup and you nearly hack up a black clump of sugary boba onto the concrete sidewalk.

but nevertheless, you force it down to look at the order again, more closely this time.

they’re numbers, and your heart stutters in your chest at the realization there’s just enough to be a phone number; followed by a name that you only ever saw emblazoned on a gold name tag.

you want to commit the numbers to memory, but it’s undeniably hard to concentrate. not when shoto’s gentle smile is on the forefront of your brain and when big, fat droplets of water are hitting your forehead with incredible force.

you glance up at the swirling, ashen clouds above you, bloated and expecting. an uncomfortable feeling crawls up your spine at the realization that you’ve forgotten your umbrella at home today too.

oh god. not again.

“i can’t believe you actually wrote your number on my cup today... very smooth, shoto.”

there’s a beat before shoto replies, his voice tinny and distant over the phone. “actually, i did that the first day you came in-- when it was raining. i figured you didn’t notice or you were rejecting me.”

“oh. so, wait-- you did it twice then? that day and today?”

“no,” says shoto. “just that day.”

“then who--” you stop yourself.

outside your window, a clap of thunder shakes the sky. and the epiphany that follows renders you both silent.

#shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha spring time #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #ok jojo actually though i nearly wrote u a tiger king au and then i was like hold on....aint nobody but me gonna want this.....

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