#just google book name + author name and cross fingers

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 ꒱ 한동민

summary : would the tides push you closer, or pull you farther away?

genre : angst, taesan x afab!reader tws : language, angst author notes : i thought about making this a happy ending, i really did, i promise word count : 1.6k

“don’t say this, y/n.” 

you stared at the man in front of you blankly, like you had to stay strong. was this was for the better?

he didn’t deserve to carry you through the whirling hurricane, like he promised all those months ago—when you could still say you loved him with hearts in your eyes. it was what you knew you had to do; something you may regret someday, but nonetheless the lesser of two evils. hurt him now instead of when it would really matter is what you convinced yourself a couple nights ago. he could get over you—you weren't anything special—nothing more than borrowed time and stolen moments: the stars during a sunrise, the flowers during fall, the snow in spring. nothing more than roses bound to wilt. nothing more, and nothing better. 

you took in a shaky breath, feeling like your heart could (and would) fall out of your chest at any given moment. “i’m sorry.” 

“what if i can’t live without you, y/n?” 

he said your name so effortlessly—like he knew you—and, that made you violently nauseous. “find a way, taesan.” you spewed out with a venomous tongue, shaking hands masked by your arms being crossed. maybe it was to protect yourself, but you thought that if he could make you the enemy it would hurt him less. anger has always been stronger than sadness, and happiness. 

the tears welled in his eyes as he scoffed off to the side. “how could you?” you knew you had his heart in your hands, but were you really prepared to drop it and watch it scatter like the wind? “i need you.”

“i don’t love you… i never have.”

well it didn’t matter if you were ready, because now it went way past just being hurt. now it was death by a million cuts. a wound you opened and knew could never be stitched closed. you knew it was selfish to hope he could eventually get better just because that’s what you wanted for him. you also knew he’d never forgive you, and it would be stupid to believe anything but—you knew him as well as he knew you, and could you even forgive yourself? 

you knew the answer to that too. the bitter truth that lingered on your tongue. 

and, now it’s been half a year; six months since you said those words. twenty-four weeks since you broke his heart. 186 days since you began no contact. over 262,000 minutes since you’d made the worst mistake of your life. and, all it would take was five seconds for you to make another. 

would closure, even now, still be beneficial? anything for you to realize that taesan hated you. anything to get you to leave it in the past instead of as an open book. anything to get you to move on instead of reread the stupid messages that send you hurdling to the bathroom, retching over the toilet. anything that stops you from googling the symptoms of heartbreak. anything to get you to stop replaying the memories against your eyelids when you're supposed to be sleeping. anything to get you to stop staring at his contact, finger hovering over the call button. maybe if he didn’t pick up that would be enough to deter you. maybe if it said his number was unavailable, that would be enough. maybe—

“fuck.” you panicked. “oh my god.” you repeated it a couple more times as you smashed the red circle at the bottom of your screen. you didn’t even give it enough time to either, let the call go through, or let you know that you could no longer contact him… even if you someday mustered up enough courage to. 

the sky was pouring down with your mood. he was the best, worst mistake you've ever let into your life.

you felt guilty. guilty you swung the door open. guilty you got so far away just to turn the car around. guilty because you had no explanation—you weren’t even drunk. but, guilty for feeling guilty. guilty for wondering if he’d see your contact and remember the cruel words he knew in the back of his mind weren’t true, and you knew that hurt him the most. you knew you were cruel for not giving him a reason to end something that otherwise could’ve been great. cruel to pretend like you wouldn’t wait for him at the bottom in any given life. but, cruel was what you had to be, right?

you couldn’t make him happy, like he made you. you couldn’t make him comfortable in public spaces, like he made you. couldn’t bring him peace of mind, like he could you. couldn’t be the person he could imagine his life with in a two-story house, or apartment with a view. couldn’t be the person he painted in his head, the girl he wanted so badly—you were only so flexible.

you couldn’t ever be enough for someone who so desperately gave you the world. 

it was your fault you let it get so far in the first place. you made him the current—it was your fault you couldn’t let go. it’s not like he kept contacting you, or even tried to see you after the breakup. you were the desperate ex. you were the person who thought it was a mistake but... 

you were the one who ended things. you were the one who lied all those months ago. you were the one who broke his heart, and your own as collateral. and now, you couldn’t convince yourself it was a win-win situation at all. 

you loved him. no, you love him. 

still, he had a tight hold on your heart. even through radio-silence and tormented nights, he had you. and, you never hated it as much as you did now—because you didn't have him in return. you had no clue if he was laying with another girl when your finger hit the call button. was she better? prettier? nicer? did the conversations flow? you had no idea if he had moved on easily like you'd been wishing, underlined by the opposite. you had no idea, and that was the worst part. you could say it was his fault you felt like this, but in reality, it was yours, and you knew that too. 

so, closure—in whatever fucked up form—would never be stronger than the tides pulling you back to him. 

now, you were here, staring at the crash—the wreck—back where it all went haywire. back where you ripped your heart out and threw it into the crashing waves against the shore. was it stupid to believe it wasn't somewhere far out now? 

you heard the risk of jumping into the deep end was drowning, but you held your breath, taking a leap of faith and awaiting the cold water to bring you back from a fantasy that isn't written to come true. he wasn't the wave to your wind, dependent on the ever-changing weather inside you. he wasn't the picnic blankets, fruit baskets and smiling faces. he was the thin line where the sky met the sea. he was the wet sand that people drew poetic lines in. he was the umbrella that got picked up and closed after a good day, ruined by a downpour. the chilled feeling during a heatwave. he was something you knew was too good to be true. something marked with an X you'd spend your whole life searching for—dedicated to a whisper. 

you were swallowed whole, in the belly of a title that you no longer could even call you, spinning with the whirlpool. everything you'd suppressed had come back, crashing against your ankles and shins hard enough to make you lose footing and fall flat on your back. 

it would knock the wind from your lungs, but it wouldn't feel any different than standing completely still. 

"oh," no, he didn't feel any different than standing complexly still. "i guess i should've known better."

"yeah," you replied into a thin breath. "i should've… i really should’ve." 

it was all hanging over your head, the sharp end of the sword readying itself to come down on you. would it hurt any more than seeing taesan back at the spot where you two broke up? 

you couldn't will your head to turn, but the presence was ever-felt. a presence that used to make your heart turn and stomach beat; or maybe it was the other way around?

you were ever confused on how you got a lucky star out of the millions of ordinary ones. you never understood why he, of all people, chose you. you never understood but nonetheless thanked the heavens; the oceans; the gods; the myths; the planets; the creatures; for bringing him to you. 

because you got to love him... once. 

and, now that the humidity had subsided, you could see through the fog… he wasn't there. he wasn't the sunshine that warmed your skin. he wasn't the rain that slicked your hair down. he wasn't the breeze that would turn the pages of your romance book unwillingly. he wasn't the playful screeches of couples tossing each other into the cold depths. he wasn't the cliffs people dared to jump off of. he wasn't the sunset proposals, and i do's. he wasn't a first date spot, or pretty photo-op. 

but, he'd always be the tide that pulled you back to him; he'd always be the tide you wish you could've overturned. the current you'd swim against for a lifetime. and, you’d wait until the oceans dried out to discover the 80% you never got to know.

he was nothing more to you and, definitely, nothing less. 

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— tag list .ᐟ @lilriswife4life @blumisiu @jakeify | send an ask to be added c:

— network tag list .ᐟ @onedoornet

— back to masterlist .ᐟ

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

rules: tag 10 people you want to get to know better!

The lovely @gaybybirth tagged meeeee

Relationship status: as single as the last unreachable pringle in the bottom of the can

Favorite color: black 🤪 but also any muted shade of blue

Favorite Food: pasta of anyyyyyy kind

Song stuck in your head: ummm Colors by Ava Maybee was in my discover weekly today and has been in my head alllllll day

Last thing you googled: pawpaw fruit to show my dad bc I tried one at work yesterday (prior to that was different forms of aftercare for a wip...)

Dream Trip: Greece has been on my list for quite literally a decade now. Italy/Rome ever since I took my Roman Art & Architecture class in college

Last book you read: Currently working through Meet Me at the Museum but actually sat down for 5 hours and beta read for an author friend so technically A Mare’s Nest 

Last book you enjoyed reading: Funeral Girl by Emma K Ohland, I cried over the last four chapters and bought a physical copy directly after I finished the ebook

Last book you hated reading: kinda controversial but Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe...there was so much wrong in that, I actually made a “fruity book rating guide” because of it...

Bonus:

Favorite thing to cook/bake: shortbread cookies!!! most people know my baking bc I’ve perfected my recipe. I make a lemon sage one and a honey lavender one depending on which of my herb plants is flowering

Favorite craft to do in my spare time: if writing counts then that, but if not I do graphic design stuff—like poster design and illustration—and analog collage a lot

Most niche dislike: um idk for this one...probably that I’m very picky with typefaces/fonts and will point out the bad ones. Like papyrus (literally pointed out that the zoo used papyrus for their posters when I went two weekends ago, my friend looked at me like I was crazy)

Opinion of circus(es) now and in history: fuck the circus. Give those poor animals to an accredited zoo to be properly cared for. I will say that I did go to a Barnum & Bailey circus in my teens but I stopped supporting them shortly after when I learned how badly the animals are usually treated. Cirque du Soleil and like college circuses that don’t use animals for entertainment are fine tho

Do you have a sense of direction and if not, what is the worst way you ever got lost: so yes and no lol. Once I take a trip to the same place a few times I’m set. I go by landmarks vs street names tho so don’t ask me what street to turn on lol. I have enough of a sense to not have gotten lost yet tho, fingers crossed I didn’t just jinx myself

EEEEE! This was fun! Thank you for the tag! I’m going to tag @hawkinsroyaloutcast @eddiesmetalfairy and @munsonlover and anyone else who wants to play!!

[foxghost]

Hi. Tangstory has only two novels? do you know of a third party? and where can I read if it exists?

Tangstory has written 3 original novels:

Living to Suffer, Til Death Do Us Part, 滿天風雨下西樓 (untranslated)

and also an absolutely unbelievable amount of fanfic, she's working on a new original novel 長安印 that used to be on JJ, but signed an exclusive with Baixiongread which I'm waiting for her to put back on jj since Baixiong is GONE.

She also goes by 魚香肉絲 and 衣冠禽獸 if Tangstory doesn't turn up where you're looking.

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra. 

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 

But I know those words were written for him all the same. 

Notes: 

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

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[hufflautia]

In Sickness and in Health

Requested by @milk-leaves!​  

Warnings: A very brief and non-explicit sexual implication

Summary: Slytherin catches the flu. Luckily, her husband is there to help. However, her stubborn nature and insistent claim that “she can’t be sick because she’s never been sick in her entire life” makes it a little difficult for Hufflepuff to assist her. Marriage isn’t always easy, but with the proper amount of love and patience, everything works out in the end. 

Slytherin grabs the garbage can just in time to vomit into the basket. When she finishes, she wipes her mouth with a grimace and rests her forehead against the bed. 

“Honey?” 

She looks up and sees Hufflepuff standing by the door, his forehead puckered as he takes in her appearance. Her hair unruly, she’s slumped on the floor of their bedroom, looking tired and pale. 

Usually, Slytherin would be happy to see her husband. However, all she feels is irritation in the wake of his presence, and she leans against the side of the mattress once more. 

“What are you doing here,” she croaks, eyeing him as he approaches her and kneels down. “I thought you had to go to the Ministry today.” 

“It was a minor emergency, so I left early.” He regards her carefully. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Hufflepuff frowns. “But you threw up.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been doing that a lot today,” she murmurs weakly. Noticing his eyes widen, she snorts. “I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re thinking. I got my period today.”  

He gives her a sympathetic look. “I imagine it’s been a very fun day for you.” 

“The best I’ve ever had, actually.” 

Leaning in ever so slightly, that’s when Hufflepuff sees it—the faint flush on her face, the way she folds her arm around herself, the tinge of hoarseness in her voice.  

He reaches out and touches Slytherin’s forehead. Her skin feels hot and cold at the same time. She bats away his hand in annoyance. “What are you doing,” she snaps, scowling at him. Her anger immediately falters when she notices how his eyebrows rise, a look of surprise mixed with hurt spreading onto his face. 

“You have a fever,” he confirms quietly. 

Slytherin resists a frown. “But I never get sick.” 

“Well, it happens to the best of us.” He gets up. “Wait here, I’ll get some medicine.” 

“I don’t need it,” she calls after him but he’s already in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets. He returns with a bottle and a small cup. Taking a seat before pouring red liquid into the cup, he ignores her when she says his name in a tone of indignation, insisting that she isn’t sick.

Hufflepuff hands it to her. “Drink,” he says firmly. When she juts her chin out and pouts, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Honey, I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel better.”

She still doesn’t move. This time, he returns her unyielding stare with one of his own. His tone is hard and demanding as he warns, “I’m not gonna repeat myself.” 

Slytherin grudgingly brings the cup to her lips. If she didn't feel like complete shit right now, she would keep pushing his patience for fun. She’d even be a little turned on by his authoritative voice. Probably both. 

She immediately makes a face as the medicine slides down her throat. “This tastes like ass,” she grumbles, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth and setting the cup down. 

He chuckles. “Medicine tends to taste that way.” He stands and offers his hand. “Come. I’m sure a warm shower sounds perfect right now.”  

A faint smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. “How’d you know,” she asks, taking his hand. A wave of nausea sweeps over her when she gets up, and he quickly plants his hands on either side of her. 

“I’m your husband,” he pulls her closer, “I know these things.” 

Slytherin wraps her arms around him. “Will you carry me to the bathroom,” she mumbles into his sweater. 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head before picking her up bridal-style with care. 

“Do you even have to ask?” 

A couple of hours pass. Feeling drowsy from the medicine, Slytherin took a long nap before waking up to the smell of homemade soup. Hufflepuff cooked something for her while she was sleeping. To her dismay, he also gave her another cup of NyQuil, but she drank it without any resistance. Afterwards, her headache subsided and was diminished to a dull pain, which is nothing compared to before. 

Now, she is laying in bed, feeling comfortable and content as she snuggles with her husband while he reads her favorite book out loud. She’ll probably never openly admit it but she loves when they cuddle. Listening to the smooth drawl of his voice, she catches a few words while dozing in and out of sleep. Her lips curve into a smile. He’s getting to her favorite part where he speaks in a ridiculous voice when reading the dialogue of an ancient wizard. 

Hufflepuff had read the book to her before when they were dating. He used the same wise and raspy voice as he uses now. At that moment, as she attempted to hold in her laughter, she knew he was the one. Funnily enough, he ended up proposing to her a month later. 

Feeling the familiar tug in her heart that can only be classified as complete adoration, Slytherin musters enough strength to pull herself out of the cozy arms of sleep. She shifts around so that she can properly see his face and says his name tenderly. 

“What is it,” he asks, putting the book down. “Is your headache still bothering you?” 

“A little, but...I’m sorry for being mean to you before. I was angry at you for no reason, but it might’ve been because of my period, and you already know how bad my PMS gets sometimes, but I still feel terrible about being so rude because you’re so great and sweet and you were only trying to help but I was being so difficult and I think I’m just not really used to people taking care of me, so I was trying to handle this flu on my own but I still shouldn’t have acted that way—and I literally hit your fucking hand and I hate myself for it because you don’t deserve it at all, you deserve so much more than whatever I have to offer...” Words continue to spill from her mouth as she rambles on and on, not bothering to pause for a breath of air. 

Hufflepuff says her name and she finally stops, staring back at him with a contorted expression as if she were trying to back tears. He cups her cheek, to which she leans into his warm touch. “Please don’t worry about that anymore, honey, it’s okay. Honestly. I’ve been with you long enough to know that there’s no one else I would rather be with but you. Even with your stubbornness, I love you all the same. Maybe even a little more.” He gives her a reassuring smile as she looks back at him with watery eyes. “Just focus on resting for now, okay?”

She nods and tries to smile back, getting a little choked up in the process. His words are laced with so much endearment that she realizes just how lucky she is to have someone like him to spend the rest of her life with. She puts her hand over his. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for loving me as you do.”  

His gaze is so unimaginably soft that, for a split second, Slytherin wonders how it’s even possible. He leans in, and she happily closes the distance. 

One might think that as time passes for a married couple, the love begins to stale. This is not true in their case, for the flutter in her stomach intensifies as they kiss. She can only focus on how soft he feels against her lips, how he invades all her senses in the best way possible. Her fingers grip the front of his shirt while his hand rests against the curve of her neck when they finally pull apart. Their noses brush against each other as they lock eyes. 

“I love you,” she breathes. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “And I love you.” 

“Good. Because we’re stuck with each other forever.” 

“I’d be sad if we weren’t,” he replies with a grin, retrieving the book. “Shall I continue reading?” 

She beams at him before laying her cheek against his chest. “Yes please.” 

Hufflepuff flips to the page he left off from. While he reads, he traces patterns around her stomach, as if he's painting a beautiful masterpiece over her skin. 

A couple of chapters in, Slytherin momentarily closes her eyes as his melodious voice washes over her. 

The sound of his steady heartbeat lulls her to sleep. 

FIN.

~

Check out my masterlist! | Kind comments and reblogs are most appreciated :) 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: 

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It took me a while to come up with an idea for this (also, to the person who requested this, I hope you are satisfied :D). My friend had the idea of “a vacation gone horribly wrong”. It was a fantastic idea - I even made a google doc for it and everything, but I did not write out a sufficient amount of general details for it because nothing solid came to mind. Then, when I was trying to go to sleep, I came up with this idea and I am very happy with how it came out!! 

I modeled Hufflepuff after Steve Rogers to some extent. He has that gentle giant type of vibe. He is kind and loving, but he’ll be stern if he needs to. I have to admit, the thought of making a series about slytherpuff married life has crossed my mind while writing this one-shot. I am still contemplating it. If I do create the series, it won’t be restricted to this couple specifically, but I will consider writing more stories about them because I really do adore their dynamic! Anyways, if I were to write that series, it would be different stories with different couples. It might not even be classified as a series but more as a collection of slytherpuff married life stories. Also, there would probably be at least one nsfw story included in that collection, but I will not be writing any smut until after my birthday, which is in April. *HI THIS IS JESSICA FROM THE NEXT DAY, aka the day that i’m gonna post this and im just going over the fic. while i was sleeping, i just thought of ANOTHER marriage fic so i think im going to make a married life collection of storiessss :D :D :D!!! however, im still wondering about whether i should write it, because the story idea is a little eh. if anyone has any other marriage life ideas, please feel free to let me know! before, i was a little hesitant on making a collection because it was hard for me to think of ideas for this fic when the request came in. hopefully, that will change in the future. also why do i keep coming up with good ideas for stories in my sleep lmao* 

Writing this story was fun. I stayed up until 2 am for four straight days while writing. Lmao how odd is it to see those two sentences right next to each other? In all honestly, I didn’t feel like it was 2 am because I was in the zone. I just kept writing until I told myself to go to bed because the future morning me will regret it--and lemme tell you, she really does. Anyways, I used my own experience with medicine for fevers. I absolutely hate the taste of NyQuil; I remember when my mom would make me drink small cups of it whenever I was sick. Also, when I was writing Sly’s rambling bit, I did not put any periods in the paragraph because I wanted to make it seem like she’s going on and on and isn’t stopping. However, I thought it to be weird and so I put the paragraph into the “translate to english” thing so that I could press the audio icon and hear what it sounds like. I’m happy to report that it was one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard in my entire life because her monotone voice saying all that was very amusing. 

There is no telling what fic I will post next. Last week, I was all over the place and working on several fics, moving from one to another when I got bored of the story. Also, my mental state is not the best at the moment. I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my writing recently, and I’m probably gonna go through another episode of that because this is gonna be the first fic that marks the end of tag lists and so this is probably gonna be an underrated fic because fewer ppl will see it. I came to realize that it’s not me who’s writing bad fics; even though I tag people, there’s a noticeable lack of interaction, so it’s likely that some of my followers just aren’t active anymore. There was a fanfic writer who I really like because their loki fics are amazing. A few weeks ago, I found their other blog that I was not aware of beforehand and they made a post 3 weeks ago saying that they would no longer be writing fics because there were barely any people interacting with them. She seemed really upset, saying stuff like “I guess my fics just aren’t good enough”, “no one can save me anymore” (I know that sounds very ominous but she was insinuating “no nice comments will make me change my mind”), and “I feel like deleting my blog because there’s a sense of failure in just leaving them there”. This made me really sad, and a part of me was afraid that one day, I would adopt a similar mindset. However, I know that there’s a group of people who will always be there to read my stories, so I’m gonna try to hold onto that idea and continue writing to make you happy and myself happy as well. Also I just realized that I always include one part in my author’s note that’s just sad for some reason :’)

ANYWAYS, I remember making a post a longgggg time ago that said “I promise that I will finish the slytherpuff series if it’s the last thing I do”. That has changed; I plan to post all the chapters leading up to their requited love at last (aka the part in which they actually get into a relationship together). After that, there’s still a bunch of chapters but they’re just fluffy bits, i.e. rainy day, they bake together, oop it’s one of their birthdays, etc. In other words, they aren’t essential to the plot. I could turn them into one-shots and stuff, but some of the chapters relate to the characters’ lives. In addition, it’s sweet to see their relationship progress. For those chapters regarding fluffy bits of their relationship, I won’t feel incentive to write them right away because their love is already requited and I also have two big series that I would rather work on. However, I’m not gonna start another series yet because I don’t wanna leave you on a cliffhanger in Chapter 3 and suddenly start writing a whole other series. The plan is to post all the chapters for the slytherpuff series leading up to the moment when they start dating (Chapter 7 or 8 will probably be when they actually get together). That way, there’s no rush to complete it because it’s just easy and sweet since they’re already in a relationship and readers aren’t anxiously waiting to see what happens next. After that, I will probably begin writing the other series, which will be different from the original slytherpuff series. You’ll see why. Once in a while, I will go back to the original series and write for that when I feel like it. 

I’m trying my best to finish writing Chapter 4 :( It is gonna be long - I’ve already written about 7 pages and I am thinking of splitting it into two parts. If I do, I might be posting part 1 soon because it’s kind of already done. Then again, I like the idea of just posting it all at once. We’ll see! I’m gonna try to work on that after this. My desire to write is sporadic, but comments and interactions from readers are very impactful in terms of my motivation to write, so be sure to leave feedback if you can! I’ll see you all again the next time I post a fic. Thanks for reading!

Tags: 

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[talkfastromance4]

Poolside part 3-- It all started in Cabo (c.h)

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

a/n: welp, here it is! This is a prequel to how it all started. Thank you all for your messages about parts 1 and 2 and for being patient while I write this one! Catch up on the others below

Part One || Part Two

Word count: 7.3k (honestly didn’t want to stop writing)

Warnings: casual drinking, an unwarranted attempt at being picked up by a random guy, minor blood (from a scrape), slight voyeurism if you squint, and I think that’s it.

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

You and your best friend, Morgan decided to go on a two-week vacation in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. You’ve heard numerous times how the beaches are beautiful, and the nightlife is always exciting. After a stressful last few month of work, so many changes happening all at once, you were itching to go on your two-week getaway.

With enough saved up you and Morgan were able to rent out a beautiful villa just a little bit off the resort. The amenities included four bedrooms and two baths, a private pool and a small portion of the beach was secluded in the back. To celebrate, you both had a glass of champagne on the flight then slept the rest of the flight so you would have enough energy to go out for dinner and maybe a drink or two.

The taxi arrives at the villa and it’s gorgeous, high ceilings and wide windows with the pool half enclosed and half open to the natural weather. Vibrant green plants were placed around the whole house and you could already smell the fresh salty ocean air.

“This is incredible,” Morgan gushes meeting you back in the kitchen after you explored the area. “Let’s pick our rooms, shower, and head to the resort for some margaritas.”

“Sounds like a great plan to me,” you grin rolling your luggage to a room on the right. It had a large window with a great view of the pool and the ocean beyond, but you paused when you already saw an open suitcase. “Hey, Morgan, did you pick this room already?”

“No? Why, does it seem more like me?” she asks skipping up next to you then she spots the open suitcase. “What--?”

“Who are you?”

An extremely tall man with gold curls and eyes the color of the ocean appears from the bathroom of the room causing you and Morgan to scream at his sudden appearance.

“What are you doing in our villa?!” you exclaim, eyes wide.

“Your villa? This is our villa,” ocean eyes says in confusion.

“Nice, are you maid service? We need extra towels in the bathroom,” another voice says behind you, this one is much deeper.

You and Morgan spin around slowly meeting the eyes of the new unwarranted guest in your vacation home. He’s shirtless with a baseball cap on over dark hair and your eyes glide over the muscles and tattoos on his chest. In the midst of your bewilderment, his words finally register with you and you’re filled with a bitterness.

“We aren’t your maids; this is our villa. I think there’s been a mistake,” you answer him, fingers tightening on the handle of your suitcase.

“Oh, well, we booked this months ago,” the tattoo guy says.

“So, did we. Now get out.”

“I don’t think so,” he grins, “we’ve been waiting for this trip and this was the best villa on the resort. You ladies must have gone to wrong one.”

Scowling, you glare at him for a moment longer before pushing past him into the kitchen. There’s a phone hanging on the wall with a list of numbers for the resort next to it, the front desk was the first one listed.

“What are you doing?” Tattoo man asks standing on the other side of the counter.

“Calling the front desk so they can tell you that this is our villa. You boys must have gone to the wrong one,” you retort, and he smirks while you dial the numbers for the front desk. When the lady picks up you explain the situation quickly and he’s still smirking at you as you listen to her explanation.

Apparently another villa was under repairs and this was the only one that held four bedrooms and could be split between two parties. You were supposed to get an email explaining the situation and offering one of the better suites in the hotel but the deadline for that was a week ago. Unfortunately, you didn’t get such email and there are no other rooms available, but she offered to look at nearby resorts.

“No…no, that’s um, all right. Thank you for clearing that up,” you say dejected. When you hang up the phone, Morgan and ocean eyes joined the rude tattoo guy.

“What’s the verdict?” Morgan asks eying up the tall strangers.

You explain the situation to them with a hint of bitterness.

“So, it seems like we’re going to have to share,” you huff crossing your arms. You were looking forward to having this place to yourself and now you have to worry about two strange men? You’ll need a vacation from this vacation.

“Fine by me,” tattoo guy grins. “I’m Calum, and this is Luke.”

“Y/N,” you respond and point to Morgan, “and she’s Morgan. I don’t really want to share with two guys we don’t know. What if you’re killers and you’ve escaped here on the run from the cops?”

Calum grins cockily, and for some reason his attitude really irritates you.

“We aren’t killers, we’re just two dudes who want a nice trip. We probably won’t be around here much, sweetheart, so you girls can enjoy the amenities. We’ll be out clubbing.” He knocks his knuckles on the countertop then turns to his room.

Morgan gives you a look as you share the same thought.

“Rule number one don’t bring random girls back here,” you follow him into the room next to Luke’s.

“Rules? You can’t tell us what to do, sweetheart,” he shakes his head and pulls on a tank top on from his open suitcase.

“I can if I don’t want strange girls here. I don’t want to see them running around naked while I’m trying to relax. And stop calling me sweetheart,” you add.

“We weren’t even planning on bringing girls back here, don’t worry,” Luke says shooting Calum a look. “We promise to stay on our side of the villa while you’re here and won’t bother you.”

You glance between him and Calum who is now on his phone texting away at someone. You let out a sigh. “Fine, I guess that will work. We’ll do the same.”

“Awesome. Now that’s sorted, we’ve got dinner reservations,” Calum announces to Luke and they head to the front door. You follow him out, ready to rant and rave with Morgan as soon as they’re gone when Calum turns around. “Oh, you should google us, and you’ll see why we wanted this hidden villa in the first place,” he smacks the doorframe then shoots you a wink, “See you later, sweetheart.”

“Google them? What are they, princes or something?” you scoff and find Morgan already pulling out her phone.

“Calum seems to like you,” she gives you a sly smile as she types in their names. You roll your eyes in response and then she gasps. “No way.”

“What? Who are they?”

“They’re famous, like super famous. Look,” she holds her phone up to you and you see they’re in a band.

“And they don’t want to bring girls back? That’s…”

“Kind of sweet.”

“I mean…yeah. But Calum needs to fix his attitude.”

***

The first few days the four of you made sure to steer clear out of each other’s way. The guys would get up early and be out the door before you or Morgan woke up and did your own thing of sunbathing and going into the ocean of your secluded beach.

On the third night, you and Morgan decided to check out the resort party bar where booming music could be heard faintly every night. You decided to put on a blush pink satin halter top with white shorts and silver sandals. Before heading out the two of you took a shot to get your blood flowing.

The party bar was crowded with people dancing, mingling and right off the bat you noticed Calum and Luke off to the side with drinks in their hands. Calum met your gaze smirking as he lifted his glass then took a sip from the straw. His cocky attitude rubbed you the wrong way and you needed another drink pronto.

“Hey! There’s Luke and Calum, we should say hi,” Morgan says pointing but you grab her elbow and lead her away from them.

“We said we’d keep our distance, remember?”

“Yeah, at the villa,” Morgan giggles as you sidle up to the bar. “Calum’s looking at you.”

“I don’t care,” you shake your head but suddenly become very self-conscious of every move you do. The bartender takes your order, making the drinks quickly and the music is exotic mixed with the perfect tempo for dancing.

You and Morgan have two drinks while still at the bar, talking about the excursion you have planned tomorrow of going on a hike in the jungle. A familiar song came on and Morgan was yanking you onto the dancefloor so you can dance. Feeling warm and electric from the alcohol, it’s easy to dance along with everyone else. Calum is completely out of your mind now as you and Morgan twirl around each other. For the first time you’re feeling free and relaxed after such a long time of stress hanging over you. You made a mental note to set up a massage.

Bailando by Enrique Iglesias comes on and you’re really feeling the groove of the music, trying to rotate your hips with the beat when you feel hands on your waist helping to guide you. Looking behind you, you’re met with an attractive guy who smiles at you and you’re feeling yourself, so you let him dance with you. Morgan tells you she’s going to use the restroom and you nod absently knowing she’ll return as soon as she’s finished.

Once you get the hang of it, you’re the one leading his hips with the song, his fingers hook into the loops of your shorts and your arms are in the air letting go. You continue dancing until your throat feels parched and you need a drink.

As you start to walk away, you’re yanked back right against the guy you were dancing with, his other hand slipping over your ass in a possessive way you weren’t a fan of.

“Where’re you goin’ baby?” his voice is slurred, and you can smell the overwhelming amount of tequila in his breath. It was so potent it made your own stomach spin.

“To get a drink,” you try to pull away while also trying to remove his hand from your butt. “Thanks for the dance.”

“C’mon, you can’t dance with me like that and just leave. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

“No.”

Then he has the nerve to try and kiss you but you’re still leaning as far back as you can without falling over—his grip on your wrist is tight. You feel his lips nudge yours before he’s forcefully shoved away, and you stumble with the motion.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” a familiar voice says.

“Calum—”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Doesn’t matter, get out of here,” Calum says then turns to you. Concern is in his dark brown eyes and you’re taken aback. “Are you all right?”

“Hey man, I was dancing with her first. She’s mine.”

“Excuse me? I’m—”

“She’s not your property,” Calum squares his shoulders and uses his height to his advantage. The guy takes a wavering step back. “Now leave or I’ll make you.”

He ends up walking away and Calum turns back to you. In your drunken state you’re embarrassed of the situation and irritated that Calum had to save you from a creep like that. The irritation wins over in emotions.

“Are you okay?” Calum asks.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” you mutter and leave the dancefloor to try and find Morgan. She’s talking with Luke and it looks like they’re having a great time. Not wanting to ruin your best friend’s moment, you avert your course to the trail leading back to your villa.

“Where are you going?” Calum follows you and your irritation grows.

“Back to the villa. You don’t have to come with.”

“Why do you seem pissed?”

“Look, I appreciate you yanking that asshole off me, but I can speak up for myself as well,” you mumble. The more you walk the more you realize how drunk you are, and you’re reminded of how dry your throat is. You need water immediately.

“Are you seriously mad at me for helping you? Who knows what he could have done if I didn’t step in?”

“I just said thank you!” you throw your arms up in the air and your body decides to move with them. The concrete of the pathway swirls in your vision but warm arms wrap around you.

“You can barely walk,” Calum sighs trying to get you standing straight.

“I’m fine,” you grumble trying to shove him off you, but his grip is strong. It doesn’t feel weird like with the guy from the dancefloor, it actually feels really nice.

“Let me help you back, please,” he huffs then adjusts himself, so he only has one arm around your waist. “I don’t need you breaking an ankle.”

You turn your head up to glare at him and groan when the stars are moving in circles. You clutch your head, closing your eyes but that somehow makes it worse.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Shut up,” you grumble.

The more you walk the more your stomach starts to feel uncomfortable and you know this feeling all too well. Through your heavy lids you can see the villa not too far off and you’re filled with relief at being able to go into the bathroom on your own so you can get sick. You will not throw up on Calum’s shoes. Glancing down you see he’s got sandals on and it makes you laugh at the thought of getting puke on his toes.

“You’re an interesting drunk. Angry one minute and now you’re giggling,” Calum sighs but you can hear the humor in his voice.

“Thinking it’d be funny if I puked on your toes,” you giggle.

“Shit, you’re gonna be sick?”

“No. Bathroom first, please, but don’t bring your toes. Does that rhyme? Please, toes…” you laugh some more.

Once you’re finally inside, you stagger your way to the bathroom falling to your knees just in time. You hold the porcelain of the toilet as the alcohol exits your system and someone is rubbing your back.

“Go—”

“I’m not leaving you in here while you’re sick. I’m not a dick,” Calum interrupts you.

When your stomach is empty and you feel a little less drunk, Calum helps you stand up and brush your teeth. He mentions to get water before he leaves, and you stare yourself down in the mirror. Your eyes are bloodshot and there’s a flushed look to your cheeks. What a night this has turned out to be. You wash your face the best you can, making sure to get as much make-up off when Calum returns with a water bottle.

Not knowing your status, he helps you hobble back to your bedroom where you crawl happily onto the bed.

“Anything else you need?”

“Help me change?” you ask, and his eyes go wide, his mouth opening in shock. You snicker at his response and wave him off. “I’m kidding. I got it.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he shakes his head moving to the door.

“Hey Calum,” you call, and he turns around, “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. Now get some sleep, sweetheart. You’re a hot mess.”

You shake your head at his jab and pull off your clothes slipping under the covers. The night replays in your mind and then continues in your dream where Calum appears. His hot, sturdy hands grip your waist and you fall into a perfect rotation with his hips. You link your fingers with his then his lips move to your neck, singing softly to you with whatever song is playing.

You fall into a deep sleep then wake up still feeling the pressure of Calum’s firm but gentle grasp on you.

***

The next day after a long morning of waking up and recovering from a night of drinking, you and Morgan head out for your hike through the jungle. The two of you instantly regretted your decision of drinking last night while trekking through the humid forest. Beads of sweat trickled down your arms and the middle of your back but the view at the top of the hill was well worth it.

From this vantage point you could see the arched formations of El Arco, the ocean water as blue as the sky. You’ll have to find a way to get to the natural rock formation. The descent was much easier, and you and Morgan took plenty of photos while laughing at how unruly your hair was and the dirt that covered your arms and legs in patches.

The thought of the pool at your villa sounded heavenly and you couldn’t wait to take a dip.

Unfortunately, when you returned to the villa, Calum was already in the pool with a can of beer. Despite his helpfulness last night, you felt embarrassed that he had to do all that in the first place, his cocky grin still set your irritation off. Your head was throbbing from the hike and all you wanted to do was jump into the pool.

“Oh, hey,” Luke greets with a smile from the kitchen. “I just made some lunch if you guys want something to eat.”

“I’m starving. Climbing a mountain is hard work,” Morgan says making a bee line to the counter.

“It was a hill and we didn’t climb it,” you giggle but she waves you off already in quiet chatter with Luke.

Sighing, you step down into the pool area, Calum notices making his way to you in the water.

“You look worse than last night, sweetheart,” he grins taking a long pull from his drink.

You roll your eyes with a sigh and cross your arms. “Are you going to be in there long?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs leaning on the ledge with his arms. “It’s big enough for the both of us, great for getting off sweat from…” his eyes linger down your body, “strenuous activities.”

“I’ll just wait until you’re done.”

“Oh, come on, get in here,” he chortles. “I promise I’ll behave. The water’s really nice for a hot day like this. There’s some drinks in the fridge, help yourself.”

Taken aback by his offer of beverages, you’re left frazzled for a moment. The water does look tempting and Calum’s biceps are all too alluring reminding you of the dream you had about him last night. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the recollection.

But you won’t give in no matter how hard you want to. You tell yourself it’s the principle of the thing, an agreement between the four of you that you’d stay out of each other’s way.

“I’ll say yes to the drink,” you smile, “enjoy the pool.”

With that, you turned on your heel and went to take a cool shower instead. Maybe the pool will be open later tonight and you could take a dip.

***

“Good morning ladies,” Calum announces while you and Morgan are having breakfast on your sixth day of vacation. “I hope you don’t have plans today because you’re coming with us to El Arco by the sea cliffs.”

“Really?”

“Well…you and Calum are,” Luke says pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Morgan and I are going to look at all the shops and try the different restaurants.”

You look from Luke to Calum and Morgan who is very interested in the oatmeal in her bowl, avoiding eye contact with you completely. This was all obviously orchestrated but why?

“Are you sure?” you ask Calum who is wearing a black tank top and black swim trunks. He looks

“Yeah I’m sure. Morgan said you were ogling them on your hike, but she thinks they looked scary,” Calum explains.

“I wasn’t ogling them,” you sniff but secretly you’re excited to see them up close. There’s also a beach you heard about near the archway, total seclusion and relaxation. “But I appreciate the invite, when do we leave?”

“As soon as you’re done with breakfast,” Calum grins. “I rented a boat that will be waiting for us at the marina.”

Anticipating a boat full of other people, you were surprised to see it would just be you and Calum on the boat. You were filled with nerves at being alone with him and at the thought of possible getting lost at sea. How did he know where you were going? Does he frequent trips to the cliffs a lot?

Wordlessly, you hand him the two coolers of food and drink then bags of towels and small chairs to stick in the sand. You were the last thing to get into the boat and Calum held out his hand to you. Hesitantly, you took his hand (your dream resurfacing) and he helps you into the boat.

“So…it’s just us, then?” you ask resting your hands on your waist.

“Yup,” he rubs his hands together before untying the ropes of the boat from the dock. He pushes away from the pier, inserts the key and the boat rumbles to life.

“And you know where you’re going?”

“Yes, sweetheart, now sit back and relax. You’re safe with me,” he winks and turns the boat around in the water. You have no choice but to heed his words by sitting down.

You choose to sit at the front of the boat where you can feel the sea spray on your face and let your hand glide through the waves from the movement of the boat in the water. The sun is high and beating down on you in the best way. Calum banks to the right and then you see the cliffs appear, they’re much larger in the water than up on the hill and you’re awestruck at the foundation.

A few other boats are anchored around the small little island, some of the patrons are seated on the beach. Thinking you’ll be anchoring by them; you sit up a little straighter then furrow your brows in confusion when Calum continues on past them.

“Where are you going?” you ask turning around to face him. The wind is blowing his dark curls and his cheeks are a little tinted pink from the sun.

“Somewhere where there isn’t a lot of people. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

Continuing to arch around the cliffs, you catch sight of an even more secluded portion of a beach that is completely void of other people. The sand is white and blinding under the sun with some rocks along the shore. It’s the perfect spot and you’re actually really grateful that Calum chose this secluded area; you didn’t want to be around other people that much either.

Calum brings the boat as close to the shore as he can before dropping anchor. Peering down you can see the water will come up to your knees when you exit so it will be easy to transfer your belongings from the boat to the beach. He hops out of the boat effortlessly then holds out his hands.

“I’ll bring everything onto the beach if you want to hand it to me.”

“I can help too,” you say defiantly but ultimately hand him the heaviest cooler first.

As he’s setting up the chairs, you want to prove yourself to him so you grab the last cooler, setting it on the back of the boat so you can get out safely. You misjudge a step in the ladder making you bump against the boat with your shin. You feel something scrape against your skin and you cry out at the searing pain of the sharp cut and the salt water.

“Are you okay?” Calum asks.

You grab the cooler without responding, pushing through the water to the edge of the beach. At the fresh air hitting your scrape, you let out a hiss in relief and then the following throb after. You drop the cooler next to the other one so you can examine your leg. Sure enough, there is a scrape with fresh blood trickling down onto your foot.

“Damn it,” you mutter.

“Shit. What did you do?”

“Missed a step on the ladder and cut myself on something from the boat.” You grab onto the outer part of the cut trying to see how long it is, but more blood oozes out.

“Sit down, there’s a first aid in the boat,” Calum sighs splashing back into the water.

Again, you sit down in one of the chairs he set up trying to keep your leg in the air so the blood can stop flowing to that spot. He kneels in front of you when he returns, a small white box next to him. He rifles through it until he finds alcohol swabs.

“This is going to sting,” he glances up at you as he rips the paper open.

“I know, I can handle it,” you nod bravely.

He smiles quickly then takes your calf in his large hand, resting your foot on his thigh swiping the alcohol swab down your leg. It stings and pricks at your skin while he cleans the saltwater and sand away from the open cut. When the blood is clear, except for the small bead still rising to the surface, he puckers his lips and blows delicately on your leg.

You watch him as he continues to grab Neosporin and a large bandage. He squirts the clear gel on the band-aid then presses it onto your shin. His fingers press on the adhesive making sure it’s sticking properly. Calum rubs his thumbs on your leg softly. Having him touch you gives you goosebumps and the dream you had of him resurfaces once more.

“Thanks.”

“I told you I’d get everything off the boat,” he snaps the kit shut.

“This isn’t from the cooler,” you scoff, “I missed a step.”

“I knew I’d need this, you’re so clumsy Y/N.” His tone is mocking but the smile he gives you is kind and you can’t help but smile back.

“You aren’t wrong,” you laugh, “I trip over everything.”

“I can carry you back into the boat when we leave so you don’t get any more saltwater on it.”

“I’m still going swimming I hope you know.”

Calum sighs then sits in the chair next to you. “You’re something else.”

“Back at ya,” you sigh.

When the sun became too hot you decided it was time to head into the water. It was calm and so blue as it kissed the shore; you just had to experience it yourself. Standing from your chair, you remove your shorts and tank top stepping through the hot sand and sighing as the water rolls over your feet.

“Be careful,” Calum calls but you wave him off dismissively and venture further. The water is warm as it hits against you and you dunk yourself into the ocean, ignoring the dull throb in your shin because it’s so worth it to be in the water.

“You’re a little adventurer, aren’t you?” Calum’s deep voice startles you when you rise up from the water.

Not expecting him to be so close to you, you let out a small scream tripping on your feet before you steady yourself. You spit out the saltwater you slurped up.

“You don’t creep up on someone like that when they’re underwater!” you scold splashing water at him. You try to keep your gaze on his face rather than on his tattooed muscular chest.

“I thought you saw me,” he laughs then grabs hold of your elbows pulling you with him as he backs up. “You make me nervous out here.”

“Why?”

“A shark could smell your blood and I don’t really feel like fighting a shark today.”

“I’m not even bleeding anymore thanks to your nurse skills. Are these shark infested waters?” you follow him closer to the shore until the water is just below your chest.

“No but knowing your luck one will find you.”

You shake your head at his ridiculousness but are also very flattered that he’s nervous about your safety. His constant mood swings towards you are giving you whiplash.

“Thanks for your concern,” you answer drily walking around him.

The two of you swim silently for about an hour then head back to shore. You’re relaxing in the sunshine, popping grapes into your mouth complimentary of Calum’s snack preparation. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and the wind gusting through the overhang of the cliffs has you in a complete state of bliss.

“How’s your leg?” Calum asks, his voice equally as calming as your surroundings.

“Fine,” you shrug opening your eyes to see him already looking at you. They shine a lighter brown in the sun. “It barely hurts Calum.”

“I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting. I went through a not so good breakup before this trip. It was supposed to be me and her instead of Luke. I guess I was still a little bitter about it and placed that bitterness on the first pretty girl I saw.”

You stare at him in shock, mind reeling at his apology and his pretty comment.

“I’m sorry you went through a bad break-up; those are really tough. I was pretty bitter too but from work. Guess I took it out on the first handsome guy I saw.”

He gives a shy smile then chortles softly holding up his can of White Claw. “Truce?”

“Truce,” you nod knocking your own can of Truly against his. You each take a drink then he sighs.

“Honestly, this little trip of ours to this beach helped calm me. It’s so quite and peaceful out here.”

You finish off the rest of your drink, the bubbly alcohol already taking effect and you feel lighter than air. “You know,” you sigh standing up from your chair. You peer down at him with your hands on your hips, “There are other ways to take out your bitterness.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” his eyes are playful taking you in.

“Other strenuous activities,” you smirk and make your way back into the water. It’s refreshing to the touch after sitting in the sun. You splash some water on your face then Calum is joining you.

“Care to share these types of strenuous activities?” he quirks his eyebrows up as he swims closer to you. His muscles rippling in the best way.

“You’re a smart guy, I think you can figure at least one of them out.” You lower yourself into the water walking backwards as he circles around you. It’s like a dance, he moves forward, and you fall back, circling with the motion of the waves.

“I might need a little bit of help,” he smirks pushing forward.

As you fall back your foot touches something slimy and rubbery at the same time. It catches you off guard and you scream lurching forward right into Calum’s arms. His arms are strong around you holding you up in the water.

“Something touched my leg!” you shriek trying to push him away from where your foot was. He laughs at your reaction, your legs getting tangled together. “It’s not funny! Weren’t you just talking about sharks?”

“I don’t think a shark would come this close to the shore, sweetheart.”

You feel the rumble of his voice against your cheek, his skin warm against yours and you’re reminded of the dream again. When you remove your cheek from his chest, his arms loosen their grip but still circle your body against his. Your eyes meet his and something shifts between you.

He cups your cheek, water droplets glide down your neck and he traces your lips with his thumb inching his face lower and closer to yours. You incline your head to his, eyes falling shut when his lips ghost over yours and he stops. Your heart races.

“Want to help me get rid of my bitterness?” he mumbles, lips brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you exhale.

He captures your top lip between his, he tastes of saltwater and the spiky lime of his beverage making you crave more of him. You let out a huff, opening your lips already meeting his tongue with yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. If you would have known kissing him felt this good you would have done it the first chance you got.

His fingers tickle your lower back before he grips you tighter against him, your bodies are flush against one another as you continue to kiss in this small oasis. Unfortunately, you feel the band-aid on your shin start to peel off from the water and you lift your leg.

Calum hooks his hand under your knee hoisting you upwards with a small grunt. You giggle against his lips, loving where his mind is going but for the wrong reason.

“My band-aid is coming off,” you whisper in between a kiss.

“Yeah it—oh, shit,” he looks down and sees the strip peeling off your leg. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

His lips are on yours once more as he pushes through the water to the shore. You kiss him back eagerly, never wanting to stop until he sets you down on the large towel next to your chairs.

“Sit down, I’ll get the kit,” he says. His hands roam over your back and down your ass, giving you a gentle squeeze then steps away from you.

You fall back onto the towel easily, his kiss made your knees weak and you watch him gather the supplies he needs from the white box. You scoot back a little so he can kneel on the towel. He takes your foot in his hand resting it against his thigh like before and gently peels the bandage off. The cut doesn’t bleed so that’s a good sign, maybe the saltwater helped a little.

“We’ll have to properly clean it when we get back,” he murmurs dabbing at it with the edge of the towel. He opens another band-aid placing the strip over your wound. His thumbs rub the adhesive just like before then to your surprise presses his lips to the bandage. “All better.”

Your breathing becomes shallow as his lips kiss a line up to your knee, your heart jolts as he kisses the knee cap. You wonder if he’ll keep going, you silently beg that he will. Calum shifts on the towel so he’s climbing over you and you lay back easily as he hovers over you. The water falls off his body in cool droplets, his chest pressing against yours.

This time, you drag his lips to yours with your hand on the back of his neck chasing for that saltwater and lime taste of his kiss. Very gently, he lowers his body down until you’re touching every inch. You feel him smile before slipping his tongue in your mouth and you can’t help the moan you make. Your hips lift against his and he grips your knee in his hand hooking it onto his waist.

Your back arches so you’re closer, fingers tangling in his curls and you thrust your hips once more.

“Someone’s eager,” he mumbles then kisses your jaw.

“Can you blame me?” you sigh tilting your head so he can kiss your neck. With his lips and the sun beating down on you, you’re warm all over.

“No,” he smiles against you, his thumb rubs the side of your knee. “I’ve dreamt of doing this since that first day you arrived.”

“Funny, I dreamt of you too.”

“First day?”

“No, third day,” you giggle, and he pinches your waist making you giggle. He leans on his elbow, his leg still poised between yours with his hand running up and down the side of your thigh. When his fingers skim under you’re your suit you grab his wrist stilling his movements.

“I’m sorry. I can—”

“No, I want to but…” you glance around you, “I don’t want to get sand in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs and gives you a quick kiss. “Want to head back?”

“No,” your hands glide down his shoulders and arms, “let’s stay here a while longer.”

You ended up staying until dusk exchanging more kisses. You catch the glorious colors of blazing oranges, bright pinks and flaming reds of the sunset on your boat ride back. Calum carried you to the boat so you wouldn’t get your injured leg in the water again or tripping on something while you carried the coolers or chairs back.

You stood behind him with your arm wrapped across his chest so you could lean down and kiss his cheek or his temple. His skin is hot from laying outside all day and he smells like fresh saltwater and sunscreen.

You’re both quick to bring in everything from the car and find that Luke and Morgan are nowhere in sight. Not having reception on your little beach, you check your phones to see they went out for dinner and dancing and won’t be back until later.

Calum gives you a boyish grin then bites his lower lip as he pulls you against his chest, his fingers lacing with yours.

“We have this whole place to ourselves.”

“I know,” you smile, “what should we do?”

“Wanna go for a dip in the pool? Get all this ocean water off us?”

You’re quick to agree letting him lead you to the pool area. The pool lights cast a cerulean glow from the water and shimmers on yours and Calum’s skin. The water is cool as you descend the steps, fingers still held loosely in Calum’s. It continues to cool your skin, finally feeling the effects from being in the sun all day and you probably got a sunburn but with the way Calum turns around and looks at you? You don’t care.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs cupping your cheek then gives you a deep kiss.

You’re filled with an inescapable desire for him, needing to be closer, needing to feel him on every part of your body. You brush your fingers over his stomach then tug on the waistband of his swim trunks.

“I’m sick of being in this suit, aren’t you?” you ask, fingernails tickling below his waistband. His breath hitches as he watches you untie the top part of your suit. The strings fall over your shoulders and you unclip the fastening against your back then you ball up your top tossing it next to you on the ledge.

Feeling smug about the way Calum’s eyes are practically devouring you, you take the situation in your own hands and press yourself against him nibbling on his lower lip. He groans on your mouth, his hands wandering down to your bottoms. Lips still connected; you help him by stepping out of the bottoms which he tosses next to your abandoned top.

His hands glide up your body cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples and you moan at the touch. He moves his lips from yours to your jaw and he starts to suck lightly on your neck, it sends shivers down your body. Wanting to pleasure him as well, you yank down his trunks and take him in your hand. You stroke him lazily, the moan he leaves against your skin has you smiling in his hair.

“Can I play with you, too?” he whispers kissing your shoulder and you nod. With one hand still cupping your breast he latches his mouth to your nipple, tongue swirling in tantalizing motions and his other hand cups your sex.

You’re moaning against each other, your strokes faltering when he slips a finger into your pussy and his teeth scrape against your hardened bud.

“Fuck, Cal,” you exhale circling your thumb over his slit.

“Wanna feel you,” he sighs lifting his head. He tries to kiss you, but the motions of your hands only make you nudge against one another.

“Please,” you nod.

He takes his finger out then lifts you onto his hips, your back presses against the wall. Your foreheads knock together as he directs himself to your entrance, his tip clips your clit as he inserts himself. Your mouth opens from the stretch the further he pushes; each one ripples a newfound pleasure within you. He tightens his fingers on your hips thrusting all the way in and you groan at finally being filled.

“You feel fuckin’ amazing,” he pants pulling his hips back and then pushes forward.

You meet his thrusts easily and the vigorous motion creates waves within the pool water. Calum leaves sucking kisses all along your chest as you tilt your head back on the ledge in ecstasy. The dull rub of the wooden floor on the back of your head doesn’t compare to how Calum’s making you feel as he fucks into you at a rapid pace.

“Yes! Right there!” you gasp when he hits a certain spot. Calum’s hands grip the edge of the pool as he drills into you, your orgasm is rising, rising, rising until it topples all over you. You swear you see stars and through your eyelids, you can see the moon shining as well. He’s making you feel so good that galaxies are being formed.

Calum’s low grunts and moans spur you on for an even longer orgasm until his body tightens, his thighs clench beneath yours as he fills you with a new type of warmth. He sighs your name on your skin and you can’t help the dazed smile that forms on your lips.

When his body settles against yours you lift your head the same time he does, your fingers stroke his cheek. You’re dazed and blissed out in the best way possible.

“I’m glad we got thrown together in this villa,” he tells you, eyes staring into yours.

“Me too,” you smile fondling with his dark wet curls.

“I don’t…when we get back home…can I take you out?”

“Do you have a secret beach back in LA?”

“No.”

“Hm, well, then I don’t know…” you tease, and he kisses away your giggle. You melt against him, it’s so easy to get lost in his lips and the way he makes you feel. “I guess I’ll make an exception.”

“You’re too kind, sweetheart.”

He pulls out of you slowly, both of you hissing from the loss and then the skin on your arms and shoulders pinches. Your sunburn is starting to appear more.

“I think we should get out, I got sunburnt,” you scrunch your nose at him.

“Of course, you did,” he shakes his head at you adoringly. He pecks your lips. “Come on, we’ll take a shower and I’ll rub some aloe all over you.”

“How sexy,” you laugh.

In the shower, he massages his fingers into your scalp as he washes your hair and you do the same. When you’re both finished you can see how sunburnt you actually are, and Calum lays you on his bed. His hands and fingers are gentle as he rubs aloe and then lotion onto your skin trying to hydrate it. Afterwards, you fall asleep easily, exhausted from the day’s adventures.

Calum’s fingers trail up and down your bare back, calming you. This trip wasn’t what you expected, it was way more, and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your vacation with Calum.

“My paradise just got better because of you, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. You turn your head on his pillow to press your lips to his, a silent agreement.

• • • •

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[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 4.6 K words (yeah yeah its more than usual)

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Warning: None, just some cursing

Author’s note: The next chapter is here and it is in Aisha’s POV!!

I decided to take part in @choicesseptemberchallenge20​ and the prompt is heaven which you will find in bold. 

TERMS THAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

- IIT, Delhi: It’s one of the most premier institute for engineering in India. Delhi campus is said to be the best one in the country. The majority of the Indian CEO’s like Google, at least have a degree of IIT under their belt. 

-ku'uipo: Sweetheart

-'Ae: Yes

- Beta padhai par dhyaan do, dost aate jaate hai: Child, focus on your studies, friends come and go (TBH this is the one line which maximum desi kids have heard while growing up. That's why we can be uh.. awkward in making new friends lol)

-Main kya gadhi hoon: I'm such a dumbass (side note: gadhi (female) actually means donkey in hindi)

-Duniya main maine itna bada gaandu kabhi dekha nahi hai maine: I have not seen a bigger asshole than this guy. (yes I love swearing in hindi and what about it)

Forgive me if i made any errors

10 YEARS AGO- AISHA'S POV

My fingers ran against the spines of the book, my head tilted as I searched for a new book to dive into.

"Found anything of your liking, Aisha?" Tina, the librarian asked, her kind eyes twinkling. The old librarian loved me because I always helped around in sorting the books or with checkout. She suggested that if I were to help her, she would pay me so I decided why not?

But the lack of people coming to the library and their constant need to be fake on social media, flexing about their looks instead of textbooks often left the library empty which consequently resulted in free time.

Not that I minded.

In that free time I would either catch up on my study assignments or I would read the books recently added to the collection be it fiction, politics, history, astronomy... I wasn't picky about the genres.

But lately, my attention is being drawn to medical journals and textbooks. Yes, I'm 16 and that its definitely not people my age do but, to be the person balancing on the tightrope between life and death, the person who stands between existence and heaven... it's just a beautiful paradox that I can't help be captivated by the concept.

That and my strengths are biology and chemistry so its just an added plus. So, I definitely dream of being a world class doctor. 

Not to brag, but I know all the pulse points in the body and can name the bones of the skull in my sleep. My parents don't know that because... let's say there is a reason why I stay out of home for the majority of the day.

Are we again going to go over this? I am sick and tired of your fucking indiscipline. How I wish you could be more like Aditya... Mama's voice rung in my ears which made me close my eyes and take a shuddering breath.

Now is not the time to think about how awful you are. I repeated it in my head like a mantra, making it a point to message my brother and rant about the newest development.

Despite our parents trying to pit me against bhaiya, we were thick as thieves. We always had each other's backs and we're there to cheer each other up. Whenever our parents would scream at any of us, we would wait until they fell asleep to do something to lift the other person up. Midnight feasts, movie binge or just cuddling and imagining a future where we were away from them... That always managed to cheer me up and I knew bhaiya enjoyed it too.

I don't think we fought that much either because we were pretty close in age, with only three and a half years difference. We are pretty like-minded and scientifically inclined only he was interested in computer engineering while I was fascinated by the engineering of the human body.

It sucked that he is in IIT, Delhi while I'm so far away. We still manage to video call irrespective of the time zones but it is not the same as having the comfort of your older brother.

"I think I will take this." I handed her a battered copy of Gray's anatomy.

Tina just gave a knowing smile and I checked out. I headed to the nearby Fleming Beach Park, which is one of the most popular beaches in Maui. It was a five-minute walk from the library and the majority of the school population used to come here to hang out in the evenings.

Not that I was paying any attention to my oblivious classmates.

I headed to Kimo's Beach Shack and the owner gave me a gentle smile.

"What will it be, ku'uipo? The usual?" They asked as they wiped their hand on the dishtowel.

"'Ae." I smiled at them and they started making my favourite drink- Strawberry milkshake.

Precariously balancing my bag, the drink in one hand and my wrist-thick library book under the armpit of my other hand, I headed to the quieter side of the beach, away from the raucous.

I settle down under the shade of the palm trees and lean back against the rocks, taking in the view around me. I could see people from my school roaming around in their swimming suits either playing volleyball or surfing. As I sipped my milkshake (looking like an absolute loner, must I add) my eyes drifted to their happy faces as the joked around, laughing and having fun with their friends.

The two concepts that are so unfamiliar to me.

When I was back in India, I had a good group of friends who I would hang out with and play basketball with. It was good but shifting to a new place can strain those relationships. I do follow them on social media but seeing them enjoying and doing the things which we used to do together, it causes my heart to ache.

And I never really tried making friends here in Maui because a) The people here didn't consider me as one of them and b) My parents kept on saying it is temporary so there was no point focusing on that. Beta padhai par dhyaan do, dost aate jaate hai. My dad told me the one night I decided to express my excessive loneliness.

Thanks papa, real helpful. I shook my head, sipping my drink as I carefully opened my library book.

"You look sad." A childish voice spoke up breaking me out from my melancholy. I looked up and saw a four-year-old girl, her doe-like eyes staring down at me. She was wearing a pink summer dress and a cute bow hairband, taming her light brown hair.

"Huh?"

"You look sad... and lonely."

"I am okay, keiki... Don't worry."

The kid's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "How did you know my name?"

My eyes widened. In the two years in Hawaii, I had learnt a little bit of Hawaiian and spoke in bits and pieces. And I'm pretty sure keiki meant 'child' in Hawaiian so you could imagine the shock I felt when her name was the literal translation of child.

Who the fuck names their child... child?

"A lucky guess. It is nice to meet you Keiki." She moved her hand forward and Keiki's hand clutched my big hand with her small ones shaking it. Her hand was as big as my palm.

"What's your name?" Keikie asked as she sat down next to me.

"I'm Aisha. And, what are you doing here all alone?"

"I came with my elder brother but he and his friends were playing and he forgot his promise to build a sandcastle with me. So I just went walking." She huffed and crossed her short arms across her chest.

"Well, your brother would be worried about you, won't he?" I asked as her eyes scan the crowd, looking for a guy who remotely looks like my little companion.

"Well, I think that's a go-good puni-shi-ment for him." She struggled with the big word.

Aisha chuckled and soon Keiki's giggles joined hers.

"You remind me of the times when I used to bother my elder brother like that. He would get so mad."

"Where is he now?" She asked as her hands fisted the sand, her eyes moving to look at the brunette.

"Well, he is in university, in a completely different country."

"Do you miss him?"

"A lot." I sighed. Her puppy eyes met mine and she reached to hold my elbow. I smiled down at her, appreciating the gesture. She opened her mouth to ask me more questions when we heard a commotion.

"KEIKI!! There you are!" A shout wafted towards us, interrupting Keiki. I saw a tall guy jogging towards us and when my eyes landed on him, I immediately recognized him.

Bryce Lahela. The golden boy of my school, with girls and guys falling for him, left, right, centre. And right now, he was approaching me completely shirtless, his abs glistening in the evening sun. He had a Polynesian tattoo wrapping around his left bicep and ending a little below his collarbone which had me feeling... uh thirsty?

Cool, cool, cool, just act like yourself.

Yeah as if that's helped you deal with your awkwardness. Her conscience snarked at her.

“Shut up.” I muttered to myself. But, I wasn’t subtle enough and Bryce turned towards me, a weird look in his eyes.

Off to a great start, Aisha. Keep up the good work. I mentally groaned as I went back to reading my library book. 

"Thank god Keiki you are okay... I was so worried." He kneeled and hugged her, immediately forgetting my weird mumblings. I could feel the body heat emanating from him and suddenly, the anatomy of the kidney seemed more interesting than the hot guy beside me.

"Its okay Bryce. I was talking to my new friend." Keiki squeaked as she pulled away from the hug, two sets of hazel eyes staring at me now.

My eyes widened and I subconsciously reached to push my glasses up my nose, feeling the back of my neck heating up.

"Well, thank you so much." His voice reverberated and I swear I felt as if I would combust at the spot.

I looked up and shot a tiny smile. "No worries. Keiki here makes a nice study buddy."

I internally smacked my head. Study buddy? Really? Who uses that term now?

"Of course. Daddy says that I'm a beauty with brains." She said with a smug smile.

"Well, that's the one thing that I agree with dad," Bryce said as he settled down on her other side. The one feet distance enabled my mind to resume working.

I smiled down at Keiki and I found that Bryce was looking at me intently.

O... okay?

"Wait... You go to my school right? Lahainaluna High School?"

I nodded my head. I was about to introduce myself when his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He was snapping his fingers when his face lightened up with recognition. "You are Aisha, right? The newbie who joined us last year I was in your chemistry class last year."

The drink almost fell from my hand and I had to clutch it tighter to prevent myself from making a bigger mess. Clearing my throat I smiled nervously. "Yeah, that's me. You are Bryce, right? You are on the basketball team, right?"

"You know me?" He asked, shocked and I could hardly stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Duh?! You are Mr. Popular with really good looks and either people love you or hate you." I rambled off.

A small smile played on his lips. "And which category would you belong too? The love or hate category?"

I gave a shy smile. "Let's just say I'm on neutral grounds. Give me a good reason why I should like you."

"Because of my dashing looks? My tattoo?" He stretched his hands wide, gesturing towards himself. His hair caught the evening light, making it look like a halo. His hazel eyes had flecks of gold which threatened to drown me but before I could get lost in his sheer beauty, I shook my head to snap out of the daze of his presence and gave a mocking sigh.

"Aaaannnndd, he is just like other dumb jocks who is overly obsessed with his looks. Why are they all the same?"

Keiki put her hand sympathetically on my lap. "Don't worry Ash. I don't like Bryce when he talks about his looks either."

Bryce gasped. "Keiki you are breaking my heart."

"Good."

He reached for her and started tickling her which made her squeal with laughter. I had to get up so that the sand doesn't get on me, laughing at the sight. "Brryyccee!! Stopp!!"

"Not until you tell me I'm the best brother in the world."

Gasping for breath with tears in her eyes, Keiki breathed out in defeat. "Okay, okay. You are the best... brother in... the world."

Bryce pulled back a grin playing on his lips.

"Good."

My phone rang and I saw Mama's name flash on the screen which made me sigh.

"Your mom?" Bryce asked.

"Yep. should reach home before she turns into momzilla." We chuckled as I put my book into my bag.

"Bye Keiki, it was nice talking to you."

"Bye Ash. I like you. Can we make sandcastles next time?" I laughed and nodded, "Sure sweetie."

"Where is my goodbye?" Bryce pouted.

I rolled her eyes. "Bye Bryce. See you around."

And with that, I turned on her heel, and walked home, feeling much better.

PRESENT

Aisha felt like banging her head against the wall of the hospital out of utter embarrassment. In the span of 7 hours, she had pissed off her superior, met her ex from ten years ago, got stuck with a partner who hardly did anything and now managed to embarrass herself yet again in front of her role model.

Rookie... Are you hiding from me? The way Dr. Ramsey had an eyebrow raised, as if to question why she was hiding behind another intern and the appalled expression as she stumbled over her words were forever imprinted in her mind.

Not my brightest moment. Aisha recollected as she sighed at the way she stuttered and finally came up with an excuse.

I'm doing charts. She mocked herself as she shook her head. There was a table right next to me!! I could have come up with anything but that weak ass excuse.

And she had always dreamed that if she were to meet Bryce in real life, she would definitely insult the fuck out of him and then for the finishing stroke, she would probably punch him in his handsome face or kick him in the crown jewels.

But sadly, you seldom get the things you wish for.

I don't have time for this - Main kya gadhi hoon. She mentally groaned as she tried to shut off the part of her brain which was so hell-bent on making her feel humiliated.

She entered Annie's room to find her curled up in her bed, playing idly with her phone. She perked up a little when she saw Aisha, forcing a smile on her face.

"Oh. Hi, Dr. Khurrana."

"I just came by to see how you're feeling Annie."

Annie shrugged. "The same. The nurse came by and gave me some medication a little while ago.."

Opening Annie's chart she checked. "Yeah, antibiotics. It's too soon to see any improvement yet, but hopefully, we'll see some results soon."

Aisha was about to turn on her heel and leave when she heard Annie's small voice. "hey, could you stay awhile? It's... kinda lonely, being here all on my own."

Aisha gave an empathetic smile and reached to sit down on the chair near her bed. "Of course I can."

"Thank you once again doc."

"No, thank you. I haven't been off my feet since I got out of bed this morning. So Annie," Aisha leaned forward, "what are you studying?"

Annie blinked as if she was confused by the question. She took a couple of heavy breaths before attempting to answer.

"My master's is in... English... but my... my..." She swayed, her voice woozy as she tried to finish her sentence.

Aisha was on alert. "Annie, are you feeling okay?" She asked as she felt her pulse which was dropping before Annie passed out.

The heart rate monitor sounded a long, flat tone as her heart stopped.

"OH MY GOD!! Code blue, I need some help here!!" Aisha shouted, pressing the button near her bed.

"C'mon Annie stay with me." As Aisha stood on the nearby stool, performing CPR as she waited for the code team to arrive.

"Aisha?!" Jackie's shocked voice made her lookup.

"Jackie, where is the code team?"

"Room 502 called a code blue just before you. Just keep up with CPR. They'll get to you when they can!"

Aisha's eyes flashed. "That could be too late!! Help me, Jackie we are losing her fast."

"What were her symptoms?" Jackie asked as she snapped on the latex gloves and moved towards the bed.

"Symptoms were headache and nausea. Started during her vacation to Indonesia. Aurora and I did a blood workup and gave her cefpodoxime." Aisha opened the gown and Jackie's eyes narrowed in on the rash rapidly spreading on the side of the body.

"She is breaking in hives. She is in anaphylactic shock!"

"Now that I think about it, it may be because of her allergy to the antibiotics I gave... I had fucking asked her, dammit." Guilt made her chest heavy.

Jackie's face turned into a scowl as she wheeled the defibrillator cart closer. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is. This girl needs you now! We have to get her heart started ourselves."

Aisha nodded as she opened Annie's gown, baring her chest. She took a steadying breath. You have done this numerous times in AIIMS, you can do this.

Taking the paddles, she placed one paddle on the right side, beneath her collarbone and the other paddle on the left side, just beneath her armpit.

A small impressive smile made its way on Jackie's lips. "Good, now set the charge."

"Charging to 300 volts... Clear!"

Annie's body spasmed as the paddles discharged. Keeping them aside, Aisha resumed her compressions on Annie's chest.

C'mon Annie... You can do this... Come back to me. Aisha prayed.

The monitor beeped twice before Annie's heartbeat returned, accelerated but constant.

She let out a sigh of breath as she bent over the bed. Jackie clapped her back. "You are soooo lucky."

"Shut up. Now just give her an epinephrine injection and intubate while I maintain compression."

Jackie nodded her head and Aisha shot a grateful smile as she continued her compressions, her hands aching.

"What the hell is going on in here, Rookie?"

Yikes. Aisha winced at the tone and looked up to find Dr. Ramsey glaring from the doorway.

Time to own up, buddy. She sighed and spoke up. "Dr. Ramsey, she was allergic to the antibiotics I prescribed.

She couldn't gauge his reaction from so far away. "Well... at least you are taking responsibility. Sometimes patients don't know about their own allergies. That's why you always have to be cautious."

Jackie injected the epinephrine pen into Annie's tight. Still unconscious, Annie took a shuddering gasp of air.

"And now we intubate."

"Excellent work, Doctor...?"

A self-satisfied smile made its way on Jackie's face. "Varma."

"You were assigned to this case?"

"No, I was passing and I hear Dr. Khurrana calling a code blue."

A smile made its way on his face which shocked Aisha. This man voluntarily uses his facial muscles to smile? I wouldn't have known. "The patient's very lucky you were here. I'm not confident Dr. Khurrana could have handled this alone."

Now, wait a damn minute... Aisha clenched her jaw. This wasn't her first time she was getting insulted and yeah it was called for but it didn't help her feel any better either.

Jackie bit her lip and glanced at Aisha, which Aisha pointedly ignored. Watch her jump at the opportunity in 3...2...1

"Thank you. Just doing my job, Dr. Ramsey."

There it is.

Gulping down her annoyance, Aisha spoke up. "Dr. Varma really bailed me out." Aisha turned towards Jackie and nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Dr. Varma."

Jackie tried to read her, guilt swimming in her eyes.

She should be guilty, she took the credit of the save when I was the one calling the shots.

"...Anytime."

Fuck you. She narrowed her eyes slightly which made Jackie wince.

Luckily, Dr. Ramsey gave Jackie an out. "Dr. Varma, you should return to your patients."

A relieved smile made its way on her face. "Yes, Doctor." Throwing a backward glance towards Aisha, she walked out.

Dr. Ramsey swivelled towards Aisha, his face drawn tight with annoyance. "And you... you need to have a long hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here. It doesn't matter that it's your first day, or that you're still learning. Whether this girl lives or dies is on you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, Dr. Ramsey."

"You still have no idea what's wrong with her, and your first attempt nearly killed her. This is the real world. No room for mista--"

"Hi, Dr. Ramsey? Sorry to interrupt." A short Asian intern interrupted him and Aisha let out a small sigh of relief.

This guy would give my parents a run for their money. Why do I meet assholes everywhere I go?

"For the love of God, what now?"

"One of the nurses told me... that one of the other interns told them... that one of the doctors said..."

Dr. Ramsey certainly didn't enjoy beating around the bush. With a biting voice, sharp enough to make both Aisha and the intern to flinch, he commanded. "Skip to the point."

"Dr. Toussaint needs to see you urgently." She rushed.

Dr. Ramsey pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered something about 'interns' under his breath.

Straightening his coat, who gave pointedly glanced at Aisha. "Remember what I said, Rookie. Next time I see you, you'd better have solved the case." He turned on his feet and stormed out making the petite intern jump.  

Aisha stepped out into the hall with the intern, leaned against the wall and let out a sigh.

"Thank god for Dr. Toussaint. I swear if he wouldn't have called, Dr. Ramsey would have burst a vein or something."

The intern leaned against the wall adjacent to Aisha. "Yeah... Too bad he doesn't actually need to see Dr. Ramsey."

Aisha's eyes widened and she turned to stare at the other intern. "Huh?"

"I made it up! I could hear Ramsey chewing you out halfway down the hall, I figured you might need a save."

Oh my god, that is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me.

Aisha smiled brightly. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. But you could get in serious trouble if he realizes it."

She shrugged with a cheeky grin. "If. Besides, I'm tougher than I look. I'm Sienna by the way. Or Dr. Trinh. Whichever floats your boat."

"I'm Aisha Khurrana. Thanks again." Aisha's pager beeped and she looked down and sighed. "As fun as our little adventure was, I need to get back to work. Nice talking to you Sienna and once again, thanks for the save."

"Bye, hope you solve the case. Also, wait! I heard all the doctors hang out at this bar called Donahue's. I think, just down the street. Apparently, it's like the place to go and decompress after a long shift. Wanna come?"

"Sure!! If only I survive my first shift."

Sienna gave a brilliant smile. "Assuming you live through the next few hours, I'll meet you in the atrium after we clock out."

And Aisha got back to work, tending to her other patients but Annie's unconscious face kept on flashing behind her eyelids and Ramsey's words echoed in her head, like a broken tape recorder.

You need to have a long hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here.

She took a shuddering breath, doubt slipping into her mind, making her question everything she did. Every patient she treated and every prescription she signed.

Am I really cut out for this?

She tried to stop the rising anxiety but it still continued to swell in her like a balloon. Her throat began to dry up and it felt as if the weight on her chest didn't allow her to breathe.

Oh god, it's happening.

Feeling like she was on the verge of a breakdown, she ducked into a dark supply closet so nobody could see her while she tried to pull herself together.

It's okay. You worked your way through med school to get here. You are worthy. She chanted, taking in gulps of air.

It had hardly been a minute when the door suddenly opened and she heard footsteps.

Aisha internally groaned in annoyance. "Get in or get out. Just quit holding the door." She turned around and saw Bryce.

Oh fuck.

He nervously cleared his throat and walked towards her, maintaining his distance. "I feel like I'm interrupting something. Are... are you okay?"

Thanks to the dark, he couldn't see her tear rimmed eyes. Sighing loudly she untied her hair and ran her fingers through it, something she often did when she felt like her life was on the verge of falling apart.

"Nothing. I'm just looking for something." She tried to speak in a sharp tone but it just sounded like her voice was cracking.

She knew that Bryce had definitely heard how close she was to crying. Concern laced his voice. "Hey, I know when we met I was nothing but a dumb, self-obsessed jock but it's different now. I... I know you are not okay. Want to talk about it? Or vent?"

Goddamit Bryce. "Fine! I almost killed my first patient and I fucking swear to god I saw my career flash before my eyes. But it was lowkey my fault. I should have checked for allergies. But I tried fixing my error by calling the shots and Jackie helped me. BUT that's not it! Instead of being a humble person, Jackie swoops in and takes the credit of my save and Dr. Ramsey just goes on congratulating her as if she won some fucking AMA Award-"

"Aisha, breathe."

Taking a lungful of air she continued. "- And don't even get me started on Dr. Ethan Freaking Ramsey. Duniya main maine itna bada gaandu kabhi dekha nahi hai maine. What a dick!! He should get fucking laid to work off all his anger issues-"

Bryce snorted but didn't dare to interrupt Aisha. From the short time they dated, he knew better than to interrupt her mid-rant, it only managed to instigate her.

Another deep breathe. "- Boy does he manage to make me doubt myself in every step of the way like am I worthy of being here? I mean, I threw my heart and soul into med school because I wanted to be the best doctor out there but dammit I don't think I am ready."

When he made sure she wasn't going to launch into a new roast session, he spoke up. "Wow. You managed so many years of med school, but eight hours into the shift and you're surrendering? Didn't take you for a quitter."

Excuse me? Aisha's eyes narrowed.

"You don't know me anymore Bryce. The Aisha you dated is long gone and dead." She said in a low voice.

He shrugged. "True, but I know that you still have the fire in you to do what you love the most. C'mon, you have dealt with worse but yet you are here, standing tall. This is just temporary. I know you can pick yourself back up and break down all the obstacles in front of you."

She looked up at Bryce, only able to see the faint outline of his body. He still was the same- tall, well built and with really good hair. "No offence but... you used to be the guy who would wet himself during chemistry practicals, what happened to make you so...?" She gestured her hand at him, accidentally hitting his hand.

He hesitated. "As you said, things changed and you don't know me anymore Aisha."

"Fair enough."

The lack of space and the awkward silence just fueled the tension between them. She could feel his converse bumping into her shoes and the heated gaze on her face.

There used to be a time when Aisha and Bryce would talk for hours on end and they never ran out of topics to talk about. Be it something as lame as which is the superior flavour of ice cream or as deep as life after death.

Look at us now... Aisha thought to herself, gulping.

Her hair fell on her face as she averted her eyes, unable to come up with something to talk about. Bryce's hand involuntary reached to push back the rebel strands behind her ear, his hands caressing her cheek in the process. It felt as if electric sparks shot up her cheeks, making her blush.

Bryce opened his mouth. "Aisha-"

The door opened and she heard a feminine voice. "Bryce I saw you giving me the look so I decided to join you-"

A woman walked around the corner of the help and Aisha's jaw dropped. It was not because she was shocked that he was dating, he could screw the entire hospital for all she cared but, no... she was topless.

"Oh." The unknown woman placed her hands beside her.

"Sam-" Bryce began and Aisha spoke up at the same time. "I was just-"

The confusion was interrupted again when the closet door opened again and a senior resident stood before them, aghast. "What is going on over here?"

"Oh fuck." The expletive spilt from Aisha's lips.

The topless woman, whose name apparently was Sam, quipped in. "Yeah what she said."

Well, this is totally not awkward.

AUTHOR”S NOTE #2:

Number one, yeah I dragged PB a bit in regards to Keiki’s name.. PB do your research challenge 🙄

Number two, okay so about the tattoo part, me and @bratzlahela​ were just talking about Bryce having Polynesian tattoos based on this post and I had to integrate it in my series lol

This is something I imagined 🤭

Number 3, Also I tried to change up the scene a bit with Jackie because tbh, Aisha is pretty fucking smart and she won’t be like “Boo-hoo. I don’t know anything” And about the part where she spoke about using the defibrillator numerous times in AIIMS, In India the medical education is a little more hands-on and focuses more on clinical practice rather than theory. Medical students from first year start doing ward duty and help around in the hospitals taking patient history, etc. Also, they have a mandatory year of internship without which you don’t get your license.  

Number 4, So about that supply closet scene, how many of y’all thought would you get a make out sesh?

If yes, here is your clown wig 🤡

Number 5, AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT TODDLER KEIKI I SWEAR I WAS JUST GUSHING THE ENTIRE TIME 🥺

Lastly, IT PHYSICALLY HURT ME TO ROAST ETHAN LIKE IM SO SORRY SWEETIE 😭🥺🤧

This was a pretty long author’s note heheheh

Like, comment, reblog and share your thoughts ❤

Bryce X MC: @lilyvalentine @sanchita012 @zeniamiii @lucy-268 @have-aheart @utterlyinevitable @anotherbeingsworld @this-person-is-busy @cryinginthebackseat @mayascherub @jaxsmutsuo @rookie-ramsey @aylamreads @caseyvalentineramsey @arcticlumineer​ @chetachisblog​ @kelseaaa​

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[laurawritesandgames]

For Beetlelands Week 2020

Title: Write Like the Wind

Fandom: Beetlejuice (Musical)

Rating: T

Ships: Beetlejuice/Adam/Barbara

Prompt: One Bed

Summary: Adam wants to do something for nerd-kind now that he has ghostly powers. Beetlejuice and Barbara help out. Spoilers for The Winds of Winter.

When Beetlejuice returned from the Netherworld, he came back powerful. Barbara wasn’t exactly sure how—the story changed with each telling. 

But he returned with enough power to teleport her and Adam pretty much anywhere he could visualize. Thanks to Google Street View, he could visualize quite a few things.

Being able to teleport was very helpful when Adam had a specific request.

The ghosts and demon appeared inside a very fancy home, with sunlight streaming in the windows. Beetlejuice was hovering between Barbara and Adam, holding their hands. Barbara suspected this wasn’t strictly part of his teleportation ability, but it was a nice excuse to hold hands.

The demon shimmered in and out briefly, wincing.

“Everything okay?” Barbara asked.

“Teleporting all the way to New Mexico is a lot. We’re definitely gonna need to stop by a bolt-hole on the way back.” According to Beetlejuice, undead travellers could recharge in places with a lot of “death energy”—graveyards, usually, or famous battlefields.

The clicking of a keyboard drew the three of them to an office where a large, grey-haired man sat in front of his computer.

Adam sucked in a breath. “There he is,” he whispered.

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. “Sexy, you’re dead. He can’t hear you.” Sure enough, the writer hadn’t turned around at the sound of Beetlejuice’s voice.

“Oh.” Adam looked a bit disappointed. “I guess I just assumed that he’d be attuned to the supernatural. He’s a master of the sci-fi/fantasy genre! Anyway, let’s go see what he’s working on.” He crossed his fingers as the three of them huddled around the author’s computer screen.

Barbara felt a bit awkward reading over someone’s shoulder, and looked politely aside. She’d never gotten into sci-fi and fantasy the way Adam had; he’d know better than she would what they were looking at.

Her husband’s face fell. “Wild Cards?!” he spluttered. “Wild freaking Cards! I know he only edits the anthologies, but they’re a distraction!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Just write the books, George!”

“I can take over his computer and threaten to start deleting files until the books are done!” Beetlejuice crowed. “Make it seem like he’s got a computer virus!”

Adam’s gaze flicked between Beetlejuice and the author’s computer a few times.

Barbara cleared her throat.

“No, of course not,” Adam said quickly. “Thanks for saving me from myself, sweetie.” He kissed her cheek. He focused on the author, holding out his hand. “Sorry about this.”

The author stopped what he was doing. He saved then exited out of the document. Adam searched through the computer files for a moment then made the author open up a document titled The Winds of Winter.

The document opened after a few moments. ‘Want to pick up where you left off?’ Word asked helpfully, and the author clicked on it. There were a bunch of unfamiliar words and names on the page that showed up.

No sense in me reading this. Barbara decided to look around a famous author’s office. She’d expected him to have a bunch of memorabilia from the TV show, but the furnishings were really quite ordinary. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of bookshelves filled with books.

There was silence from the author, whose fingers were poised over the keyboard.

“C’mon, Sexy, get writing.” Beetlejuice hovered in mid-air, bobbing slightly. He was also eyeing the author’s office, but he was probably wondering where to put spiders.

“Er, there’s no way I can give him partial control, can I? I can’t write the next book!”

“Not how it works, newb.”

Adam sighed. “Okay. Um, my thoughts definitely won’t be his, but maybe I can make a start. Barbara, you took that course in creative writing in college, right? Do you have any tips?” Adam was an amazing man with many good qualities, but pure creativity wasn’t one of them.

“I can try, but I wasn’t writing award-winning fantasy novels back in college.” Barbara dredged up some memories of the TV show. “Maybe you should make the White Walkers show up! You know, inject some tension.”

“It’s an Arianne Martel chapter.”

Barbara had no idea what that meant. “Um…have a dragon show up?”

“I appreciate the thought, but Arianne is going to treat with Young Griff, and the entire point is that he’s a supposed Targaryen that doesn’t have dragons.”

Beetlejuice spoke up. “Have some brothers and sisters bone. Shove a little smut in there.”

“Not only does that not work in this chapter, I’m also not comfortable with that.”

“Or skip to a Dany chapter,” Barbara suggested. “I just want good things for her. How’s she doing, anyway?”

“Not well.” Adam made the author pull up a Dany chapter. He watched the blinking cursor for a few moments, frowning in thought.

Beetlejuice added, “You could write a bunch of dialogue in what’s basically a white room and see where it takes you. That’s an A-plus writing strategy, right there.”

Adam sighed, rubbing his forehead. After a few more moments of intense concentration, he looked away from the computer screen.

The author shook his head, blinking a few times.

“Maybe just having the document open will prompt him to write?” Adam asked hopefully.

The author closed out of The Winds of Winter and went back to a document called Wild Cards_edits.

Adam’s shoulders slumped.

Beetlejuice hovered closer. “Just casually mentioning that we can take out the phone, snap some pics of these new chapters, and threaten to leak them if he doesn’t write the books.”

“Photos of chapters over his shoulder?” Barbara said. “That’s pretty terrifying.”

The demon chuckled darkly.

“Ah. And that was exactly the point.” Beetlejuice might have changed a lot since his return from the Netherworld, but his love of fear and chaos that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“No, Beetlejuice,” Adam said. “It wouldn’t work anyway. What kind of writing would you get if someone was bullied into it?”

“Bleh, you’re no fun. Where to next, Sexy? That Rothfuss guy?”

“Let’s just go home.”

“Have to make a quick stop first, but okay.” Beetlejuice grabbed their hands and teleported them away.

They landed in someplace pitch black. Beetlejuice lit a match of neon green fire, revealing a small underground crypt barely large enough for the three of them. Every surface was draped with dust and cobwebs. A half-open coffin showed patchy, stained velvet. If there was a door to this crypt, the match didn’t reveal it.

Beetlejuice tilted his head. “Ahhh, that’s better.” He frowned slightly, as if listening to something. Barbara couldn’t hear anything. “Yep, think it’s still sandworm free! Lemme just recharge for a while.”

“You’ve been here before?” she asked.

“Nah, but I saw drawings from some ghost hunters back in the Netherworld. Ghost hunters can go topside to bring ghosts back, and they need places to rest, too.”

“So, ghost hunters are ghosts who hunt other ghosts?”

“Yeah, and they’re the worst. The Bureau of the Dead won’t let anyone go topside unless they’re a boot-licker. But it was good to know a few of their tricks when I got banished up here.”

Barbara glanced at Adam, who normally would’ve loved Netherworld lore. It wasn’t every day that Beetlejuice opened up about a place that was, in his words, “total Meh-ville.” But Adam wasn’t even listening. The gloomy atmosphere of the crypt fit his gloomy expression perfectly.

“Hey,” Barbara said softly. When Adam turned her way, she squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to.”

“I guess art just has to happen at its own pace. You can’t force it. I just feel bad for all the other dead readers who’ll never get to read the end of the series. All they’ll have is the TV show’s ending.” He snorted in disgust.

“Maybe you planted a seed. Who knows? Inspiration is a funny thing.”

“And there’s always fanfic,” Beetlejuice added.

“It’s not the same,” Adam said with a sigh.

“Heh, speaking of fanfic….” Beetlejuice hopped into the coffin. “Oh noooo. There’s only one bed!”

Barbara and Adam stared at him. She had no idea what he was talking about.

Beetlejuice huffed. “Oh, come on. None of you ever read a romance fic? Hell, a romance novel?”

“No,” Adam said.

“Not really my thing,” Barbara added. She was a fan of biographies and autobiographies of famous people, personally. “And, also? Not a bed. It’s a coffin. And sleeping in a coffin is also not my thing.”

“Jesus, so picky.” Beetlejuice snapped his fingers, and the coffin became their bed at home. “Get over here.” He hesitated then said, “Please.” Barbara and Adam had had conversations with him about asking instead of demanding; happily, it looked like those conversations were sticking.

Beetlejuice had just done them a huge favour, and a little cuddling might cheer Adam up. Barbara went to join Beetlejuice, shooting a questioning glance at Adam. He followed them, though he was still brooding.

She and Beetlejuice let Adam slide between them as the three sorted themselves out. (Sometimes, Beetlejuice would throw in extra limbs or a few clones just for the added challenge.) After some scooching and wriggling, Barbara’s cheek rested on Adam’s shoulder as she stroked his chest gently and held his left hand. Beetlejuice had one arm over the two of them and was, for some reason, nibbling on Adam’s hair, which sometimes became kissing the top of his head. After a while, you got used to a certain amount of weirdness.

Gradually, Adam began to relax. First, the tension left his shoulders. Then, he cracked his neck and his jaw untightened. (He’d needed to wear a mouthguard when he slept when he was alive. He was always grinding his teeth.)

“Maybe…” he murmured. “Maybe I could write the ending to the books. It’ll be fanfic, but it’ll be something, at least. I can work on that project while the Deetzes are asleep. I’ve never written fic before, but I could try. It’s not like I need to eat or sleep. And I’ve been looking for a new project ever since I finished the model.” His model of the town had a place of pride in the attic, which the Maitlands had cleaned out and repurposed into an arts and crafts room. They still kept up with their hobbies, but they had fewer now that they were busy rehabilitating Beetlejuice and parenting Lydia.

“I’m sure it’ll be great, hon.” Barbara kissed his cheek. “I’ll help however I can.”

“And I can tell you all about what fic tropes you can put in!” Beetlejuice said. “Or what fic tropes we can do ourselves.” He must’ve been thinking about some sexual ones, for he chortled and squeezed Adam’s butt. “Gotta keep the rating PG-13 for Beetlelands Week, but…you know which ones.” He winked at no one in particular, it seemed. Sometimes, he pretended he had an audience; Barbara and Adam just ignored it.

Beetlejuice moved to nuzzling Adam’s throat. After a few moments, he began patting Barbara’s hair.

Barbara giggled. “Aren’t you supposed to be recharging?”

“It’s called multitasking, baby.” Idly, he commented, “Shit, fluff is hard to end. How do you even end something that by its nature has low stakes and minimal conflict?”

What was he talking about? Barbara shrugged.

Adam thoughtfully said, “Maybe with a kiss?”

“Hah!” Barbara couldn’t help but grin when Beetlejuice laughed like that. This wasn’t an evil cackle or a dark chuckle, but an open, cheerful sound that she’d been hearing more and more since they’d started dating. “Perfect! You’re so ready to be a fic writer, Sexy!”

Beetlejuice kissed Adam on the lips, and the cuddling in a false bed in an underground crypt continued.

Not for the first time, Barbara reflected, My afterlife is so weird.

But it did have its perks.

[kayliemusing]

42: top 3s

1: Top 3 ice cream flavors - classic vanilla, birthday cake/birthday batter, bubblegum

2: Top 3 Disney Movies - Mulan, Onward, Soul (but this changes frequently lol)

3: Top 3 vacation destinations - I've never been outside of my home country so I'll say my top 3 DREAM destinations: NYC, Hawaii, a random countryside in either France or the UK

4: Top 3 places to shop - Dynamite, Sephora, Winners/Homesense

5: Top 3 subjects of study/classes to take - English/anything creative writing related, Interior Decorating/Design, Communications?

6: Top 3 make up products - YSL Touche Eclat Foundation, literally any Mac Lipstick but it has to be matte, & Fenty Beauty contour stick

7: Top 3 music artists - Taylor Swift - Of Monsters and Men - The Lumineers

8: Top 3 spices/herbs - Cinnamon - Nutmeg (literally tastes like autumn) - Paprika

9: Top 3 drinks - Diet Coke - Hot Chocolate - Vanilla Bean Frappe

10: Top 3 apps to use - Instagram - Pinterest -iBooks

11: Top 3 months of the year - May, October, December

12: Top 3 clothing items - My black/white turtle neck, high waisted jeans, plaid blazer

13: Top 3 binge perfect tv shows - Bones, Supernatural, Brooklyn Nine Nine

14: Top 3 romantic dates - (I've never been on a date but if I had, it would be this) Evening walk, late night drive, late night coffee date (tbh anything at night feels romantic)

15: Top 3 kinds of flower - Water lilies, cherry blossoms, roses

16: Top 3 christmas movies - A Christmas Carol (2009), Home Alone, The Polar Express

17: Top 3 OTPs - Nesta and Cassian from ACOTAR series by SJM, Manon and Dorian from Throne of Glass series by SJM, Casteel and Poppy from From Blood and Ash series by JLM.

18: Top 3 quotes to describe your life - "I write not to find, but to leave" by Scherezade Siobhan - "I want to be myself again. I want to be six. I want to stop knowing everything I know" by Catherynne M. Valente - "The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get" by Joanna Hoffman.

19: Top 3 characteristics you love about yourself - my kindness bc it's not surface level kindness, but actually something deeply rooted within me - my resilience even tho sometimes it doesn't feel like resilience - my loyalty bc it is a hard as steel kind of loyalty

20: Top 3 kinds of candy - Maltesers, Kit kats, smarties

21: Top 3 ways to exercise/ be active - Walking, dancing, mowing the lawn/shoveling the sidewalk

22: Top 3 spirit animals - wolf, hummingbird, tiger (i googled it bc i didn't know and i was scared it was a joke but)

23: Top 3 petnames - I like 'lovebug', 'love', 'sweetheart'

24: Top 3 books read outside of school - The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas but viewers discretion is advised, Crush by Richard Siken

25: Top 3 most used websites - Youtube, Tumblr, Pinterest

26: Top 3 people you last texted - my mom, my bestie megan, and my sister bc they're the only people i text...

27: Top 3 hashtags you use - the only time i use hashtags is if i'm trying to promote some of my writing so I'll usually use writingcommunity, writersonig, poetryonig lol

28: Top 3 instagram accounts you follow - Trista Mateer, Griefmother, obviously taylor swift

29: Top 3 guilty pleasures - buzzfeed quizzes, early 2000s music, romance novels

30: Top 3 summer activities - Going to the zoo, long evening walks, campfires and s'mores

31: Top 3 things to draw/doodle - hearts, flowers, random swirls bc it's the only thing i can doodle...

32: Top 3 aesthetics - cityscape aesthetic, autumn aesthetic, rustic aesthetic

33: Top 3 things you'd buy if you gained three million dollars - a new car, a condo, another cat

34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself - facial, a large bag of maltesers, buying the makeup i really want but have been putting off

35: Top 3 celebrity crushes - Evan Peters, Matthew Daddario, henry cavill

36: Top 3 books from your childhood - Love You Forever by Robert Munsch, The Big Friendly Giant by Roald Dahl, and Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmens

37: Top 3 accents to hear - Australian, super poshy british accent, new zealand accent

38: Top 3 scents - Fresh rain, vanilla, sweet cinnamon pumpkin from bath and body works

39: Top 3 "Friends" quotes - "WE WERE ON A BREAK" -Ross, "Guess things were just going too well for me" -also ross, and "it's so exhausting waiting for death" - phoebe

40: Top 3 cupcake flavors - tbh I haven't tried that many cupcakes so your typical vanilla, chocolate, and Pink Lady Cupcake from Babycakes Cupcakery

41: Top 3 fruits - Pomegranates, Strawberries, Raspberries

42: Top 3 places you've had amazing pizza from - Pizzahut, Dominos, Pizza73

43: Top 3 sports teams to watch - i don't

44: Top 3 crayola colors - uh, i guess red, purple, and pink??

45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college - Certificates/Degrees in Copyediting and Creative Writing, and I think simply just deeper critical thinking skills when it comes to writing and books

46: Top 3 fanfictions you've read - I read more books than fanfics, I've read a couple on tumblr but don't remember the names sorry :/

47: Top 3 people you miss right now - my dad, my best friend bc she's in vancouver, taylor swift bc she's not on tumblr anymore rip

48: Top 3 fears - Failure, Loss, not achieving anything in life/not reaching my full potential

49: Top 3 favorite literary devices - Foreshadowing is always god tier, cliffhangers although evil i love those too, symbolism

50: Top 3 pet peeves - People dragging their shoes on the floor when they walk, when you tell someone your fav hobby/music artist/interest and they immediately go 'oh I hate X!', and people who go 'you're so quiet!!!' but in a way that draws in more attention and/or makes me feel more uncomfortable like i would literally rather die

51: Top 3 physical things you find attractive - Hands, nice hair, defined jawlines

52: Top 3 bad habits - Nailbiting, picking at my blemishes oops, lip biting

53: Top 3 pets you've had/wish to have - Cats bc they complete me, I've always wanted a Samoyed, and I've always wanted a turtle

54: Top 3 types of foreign food - Chicken Chow Mein, deep fried shrimp, japanese chicken wings

55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime - 'I quit', 'I love you', 'you changed my life'

56: Top 3 dog breeds - Samoyed, german shepherds, collies

57: Top 3 cheesy romance movies - You've Got Mail, How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, 10 Things I Hate About You

58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak - French, Sign, and maybe Japanese?

59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television) - The Cruel Prince series by Holly Black, A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas (but literally only for Cassian and Nesta), From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L Armentrout

60: Top 3 pizza toppings - Mushrooms, alfredo sauce, pineapple

61: Top 3 youtubers you're subscribed to - Game Grumps, Charlotte Dobre, Megan Batoon

62: Top 3 tattoo / piercing ideas - I want to get a tattoo on my wrist of the last thing my dad ever wrote me, a hummingbird tattoo right next to it, and then a cross on my index finger

63: Top 3 awards you want to win - National Book Awards, Nobel Prize, and maybe even Goodreads Choice Awards lol

64: Top 3 emojis - Laugh/Crying emoji, the please sir emoji that kinda gives off those puss n boots eyes, and the stars emoji

65: Top 3 cars you dream of owning - 1970s Chev Impala, tbh a cute little Hyundai Venue, and maaaaybe the 1964 ferarri 250 gt luso (idk if that name was totally right but i had to do tons of googling to find it. i don't know a lot about cars and i don't really have a top 3 lol)

66: Top 3 authors - Right now I'm really into Sarah J Maas, Sally Thorne, and Holly Black maybe?

67: Top 3 historical figures - Jesus, Anne Frank, Vincent Van Gogh

68: Top 3 baby names - Ryder, Leila, Gracie

69: Top 3 DIYs - Candles, refurnishing old furniture (i.e. my mom and i painted our wooden garbage can), and really just any type of autumn diy

70: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors - Strawberry/Banana, Mango, Strawberry-Mango

71: Top 3 songs of this month - Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish, Biblical by Calum Scott, and Visiting Hours by Ed Sheeran

72: Top 3 questions of this post you want to be asked - I did them all bc I made it a survey instead of an ask meme ;)

73: Top 3 villains - Regina/The Evil Queen from Once Upon a Time, Cruella De Vil, and Moriarty from Sherlock

74: Top 3 Cities you want to see - Montreal, NYC, Vancouver (honorable mention: LA)

75: Top 3 recipes you want to try - different kind of salad and/or burger bowls, Stuffed bell peppers, and homemade lemon loaf

76: Top 3 dream jobs - Bestselling author, the person who runs a companies social media accounts, youtuber/blogger

77: Top 3 lucky items - tbh don't have one

78: Top 3 traditions you have - Christmas Eve Service and if I don't go to that at least incorporating reading the christmas story on christmas day or eve, idk if this counts as tradition but going to the corn maze every fall, and whenever it's easter/christmas/thanksgiving we always have a big meal w/ family

79: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid - reckless abandon, dreaming about growing up with hopefulness and no dashed hopes, experiencing holidays like halloween and christmas as a kid

80: Top 3 harry potter characters - I've never read or watched Harry Potter rip (ok well i saw the first and second (and maybe third?) movie in the sixth grade I think) but I think I really liked Hermoine, Harry obviously and Dobby

81: Top 3 lies you were told - i don't have 3, but this one has a story but basically when my sister and i were in elementary school my sister got hit by a car and so the insurance thing was that she would recieve 10k when she was 18 and as a child i thought that was unfair so my dad told me that my sister had to split it with me when we were 18 lmao obviously that didn't happen (i think i realized that wasn't true in middle school)

82: Top 3 pictures in your camera roll right now - Pictures of my cat, one of my sister in a hilarious filter, and a picture of my rocking my TS merch

83: Top 3 turn ons - Kindness, defined jawline, easy going

84: Top 3 turn offs - arrogance, unkempt, super loud and obnoxious

85: Top 3 magazines/news papers/ journals to read - I don't read much of those so I'll tell you some sites I love for writing purpose's: there's Wellstoried, justwriterlythings, springhole.net (which is filled with generators if you're stuck and also tons of infomation and advice)

86: Top 3 things you wish you had known earlier - that toad in Mario Party was wearing a mushroom hat and that it is actually not his head, that immaculate means 'clean' before i misused that word like several times over the years, and that the one turn i always take on my way to work where i thought everyone didn't know how to drive was actually bc i didn't have the right of way rip me

87: Top 3 spongebob episodes - the one episode where spongebob and patrick find a ghost ship, that one episode where they form a bikini bottom band and perform it at a football game in a little fish tank, and the one episode where squidward has his first snowball fight

88: Top 3 places to be in the world - I'd love to be in NYC, Montreal, or Hawaii

89: Top 3 things you'd do differently - I would not have applied for RDC, similarly I should have just paid the 500 dollars to the one certificate program I wanted to do instead of overthinking it, and I wish I wouldn't have ended a friendship the way I did

90: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood - Spongebob Squarepants, That's So Raven, and Hannah Montana

91: Top 3 meals you love - Turkey Burgers, Chilli, and Instant Pot Chicken Tortilla Soup

92: Top 3 kinds of tea - i don't drink tea

93: Top 3 embarrassing moments - one time in sixth grade I tripped and fell right on my face in front of my crush, this other time like a couple years ago i opened the door to my car and only realized much too late while i was staring at this random family that it was not my car, and when i went to the gas station to get gas and couldn't get my gas lid on my car opened and this guy had to help me which was already embarrassing enough but then the gas pump wouldn't work so i had to go inside to pay just to realize i forgot my wallet and had to shamefully walk back to my car and then run back inside the convenience store and then pay and then walk back to my car and finally fill my tank.

94: Top 3 holidays to celebrate - Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving

95: Top 3 things to do in the rain - have an existential crisis, pretend you're in a music video, walk through puddles like you're six again

96: Top 3 things to do in the snow - Sledding, Build a snowman, shovel it even tho you don't want to

97: Top 3 items you can't leave the house w/o - phone, keys, wallet

98: Top 3 movies you'd like to see - Jurassic World 3, Hotel Transylvania: Transformania bc i'm a child, and the animation of the addams family

99: Top 3 art mediums - Writing fiction/poetry, painting, music

100: Top 3 museums you've been to - Royal Tyrell Museum, Canadian History one in edmonton lol, and heritage park in calgary

101: Top 3 school memories - Middle school dances when the popular kids would grind to the song "Low" which was always an interesting experience, in the twelfth grade at winter formal when we all shouted "SHUT UP AND DANCE!" at the same time when they played Shut Up and Dance, and the day i left

102: Top 3 things you don't/Won't miss - School, my sisters ex, 2016 bc she was a rough year yikes

103: Top 3 pick up lines - "My name is Will. God's Will.", "I'd like to take you to the movies but they don't like you bring your own snacks", "are you from tennessee bc you're the only 10 i see"

104: Top 3 sports to watch - none of them

105: Top 3 taylor swift songs - all too well - exile - coney island

[you-li-ya]

Happily Ever After

Pairing: BTS member x reader

Word count: 1431

Warnings: character death, murder, suicide

Summary: Writing has always been difficult for you. You loved to fantasize about stories, stories about dragons and fairies, magic and friendship and romance. For you, nothing could beat a good love story.

However, as much as you wished to write about all your dreams and wishes, you could never find the right words for it.

In which perspective should you write it?

How should you begin your story?

And how should it end? A happy ending? A tragedy?

You never really knew, but luckily, you had him. He helped you to organize your daydreams, gave you inspiration for an introduction and encouraged you to finish your stories. His love for your ideas, all the tales you tell, always animated you to keep going, to see his glowing eyes and growing smile, while reading your books.

He was your biggest motivation and no opinion was more important than his.

He couldn’t stand reading, never did. For him, it was the most boring activity one could do. He never understood how one could like it, calling it addicting. That was, until he read your stories. He saw the world with your eyes, felt fabrics with your hands. He learned to love reading books, reading your books. They were the biggest treasure in the world, right next to you. And in his opinion no one, except for him, was worthy enough to read your books. And nobody but him would recognize the value of you.

next part

Books. Everywhere were books. Stacked on the table, piled next to the bed. But they weren’t just any books. No, every single volume, every page, was written by you. He could open any of those, in his eyes, treasures and immerse into a new world, another universe, a paradise. Your fantasy, your whole mind was completely innocent, free of any filth. And your whole being was just as innocent as your mind. Once he saw you up close at a fan meeting. If he hadn’t known beforehand, he would have thought he was standing in front of an angel. You radiated such purity that he was afraid to stain you, when your fingertips touched while you took his copy of your newly written book. You gave him a smile, showing so much love in your eyes, he had to hold himself back to not whisk you away. Far away from all of the others preying eyes, who just waited to taint you, to let you wither like a beautiful flower in a field of weed. He could not allow that. No it was his mission, the purpose of his whole life, to protect you. He would be your knight in shining armor.

Covers. He loved the hardcovers the most. The printed picture of you on these had the best quality. It was easier for him to copy your face from them, print posters for his wall and small photos for his wallet, so  he could always look at you.

He remembered the first time he saw your face. It was on the back of the book, you flashed a big grin for the camera, showed how excited you were to publish your first novel. Your name was printed right under your picture, so perfect sounding and melodic that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it out loud.

But right under your image was his. In your very first book and in every other one as well.

Kim Namjoon. Your editor and the very first person in every of your acknowledgments.

He loathed to see this person soil your beautiful book covers and execrated him every time he read your thanks to Kim Namjoon. Him, being your biggest support, your help in dark times? Nonsense, he was your biggest fan, he read no other book than yours. Wrote you letters, was the first to inform you what a masterpiece you created. So why wasn’t he mentioned but this excuse of a man? He truly hated Kim Namjoon.

Pages. He always imagined you would smell like the pages of an old book. You mentioned once in an interview that you loved to collect antique novels. All of your book recommendations were on your personal blog. He read every single on of them and immediately purchased the next one if you updated your list, but he could never really find the reason why you liked those books. They were boring, completely ordinary and it made him feel sick, thinking how you would believe those are better authors than you. He just hoped you wouldn’t let yourself be influenced.

He loved you for your originality. If someone was to wear the same outfit as you or to have the same hairstyle, it would always be the other person who copied you, be it a normal person or a celebrity. Everything you did was better, and while he normally hated changes, he trusted you to make the right choices, be it on your body or in your books. The only thing he could never forgive was you talking down on yourself. He would never lean back and watch how someone, not even yourself, would dim your light. He would protect you, but how?

Words. Every word that passed you lips was like a spell that enchanted him. From your soft voice in the interview videos, the emotional whisper in your public readings to the happy laugh when you announced your engagement. The man next to you, Kim Namjoon, moved his arm around your waist when the desktop of his computer went black. He saw his reflection in the cracked monitor, the mouse he previously still held in his hand, laying behind the broken screen. Did he threw it? He didn’t notice it, still to enraged about your future plans to care for the damage in front of him.

You, engaged to him? Don’t make him laugh. You were destined to be with him and not with your editor. He had already planned everything, from your wedding theme to where you would live after your honeymoon. And you, you just destroyed everything. Yes, it was your fault that he destroyed his monitor, that he began to loose his mind. You should take responsibility for your actions.

He was out of his apartment and on the street, on his way to you when a different thought crossed his mind. What if it wasn’t your decision? What if it was this man, if he was responsible for all of this? Did he blackmail you, force you to marry him? It had to be like this, you would never deceive him without a reason.

He quickened his pace, you must be scared to death, completely alone with this monster. You were so helpless without his protection, it was almost cute.

Finished. Your book was finally finished. You told him, he inspired you to write it, the male protagonist was his role. He was thrilled hearing that. All those months he had kept you in his apartment were paying off. He was distraught when you refused to talk to him, completely ignored him. The only time you broke your silence was to yell at him or to cry. He hated seeing your tears, he never really knew what to say, none of his words helped you feel better. But one day he finally found the reason for all your sadness.

His clothes were soaked in blood when he came home later then usual. His feet carried him into your room, wanting to show you his gift for you. He saw tears well up when he showed you his surprise, but after this night you never cried again. He was more than happy that he finally eliminated the cause of all of your sorrow. To celebrate this, he hanged your present over the door to the kitchen, to always remind you, there was no reason to cry anymore. He never noticed how you refused to enter the kitchen since then or how your eyes were always down casted when you left your room, just to avoid the sight of Namjoon’s head over the door frame.

To be continued. Were the last words on your manuscript. His fingers caressed the letters, before he closed the book. A prince, you wrote him as a crown prince. But, why did he hurt you so much in the story? It wasn’t like you to write such cruel books. You normally would create your own world, so why did you pick the Joseon era? What triggered your change? His feet carried him into your room, wanting to confront you about your abnormal behavior.

You laid in your bed, blood dripping down your arm, your breath shallow. Your eyelids flattered open when his shadow fell upon you. You gave him a weak smile, to tired to show or even feel your hatred towards him. He didn’t understand, why were you hurt? Pieces of the mirror laid next to your bed, splattered with your blood, both of your wrists cut open.

He knelt in front of you and held your hands, which were getting colder and colder. You wouldn’t die, you wouldn’t leave him alone. Now that you no longer hate him, both of you could start a new life, explore the world and create your own love stories. Your last breaths came only slowly, you struggled with every gasp. Your eyes opened a last time and to find his.

“I… I am so tired about- About everything that’s happening… Why… Won’t you leave me alone… For the last few minutes… H… Hoseok?”, your eyes squeezed shut when you took an especially straining breath.

The corners of his mouth curved upwards. It was the first time you called him by his name, not just some cuss or insult. Now, you truly loved him.

He kissed your forehead, covered you with your blanket and turned the lights off, before exiting your room. The slumber you fell into afterwards was for eternity, but this was okay, because he was always there to care for you. He would never leave you alone.

And here is my first fanfiction and the start of my first series as well. M biggest thanks go to Google Translator and any other translating website, I feel like this fanfic sucked all of my English skills out of me. Thank you for reading and happy birthday to our Hope.

[stevesnailbat]

fear of the (un)known | steve harrington

chapter three : fix you

summary: Grace, or 007 as she had been called, finally escaped Hawkins Lab after seventeen long years. But, freedom is a lot harder than she thought it would be to maintain.

warnings: blood, angst

word count: 1.8K

a/n: this is the first time i’m writing grace as using her powers!! the quotation all in italics marks someone’s thoughts and that’s how i’m going to do it for the rest of it too :) i mention my fav childhood book in this and just found out that it was from the seventies today—eric carle was my fav author as a kid. again, GIF IS NOT MINE!! it’s from google!

read the rest HERE!

Being in the cabin was nothing short of interesting, there was always something new happening. El and Grace grew close very quickly, they made up for lost time in a day or two. Grace felt at home almost immediately, the pressure to use her powers lifted off her shoulders as time went on. For the first time in her life, she felt like she might be something more than just a weapon.

Things were all around on the up-and-up for the first week or so of staying there, since Hopper took a few extra days off of work. He wanted her to acclimate to the place nicely without feeling like going crazy, which she had done so far. That was, until the day the El wanted to go to Mike’s. Hopper had to go into the station for the first time in a while and El was trying to convince him to take her to the Wheeler’s beforehand. Grace listened to the two bicker from the her bedroom, but knew that El would win the fight.

“You can go over there as long as it’s not just you and him, okay? If I hear that it was just you two alone in that basement, you’re not allowed over there anymore and you’re grounded!” Hopper threatened as he threw on his jacket, Grace just knew El was rolling her eyes at him at this point.

There was a knock on the door of Grace’s new bedroom, and she hummed in assurance for them to come in. It was Hop, wearing his uniform and a concerned frown. She furrowed her brow as she looked at him, but soon a sinking realization settled in her gut—she’d be alone for the first time since she found salvation in the cabin.

“Hey, kid. Uh—I’m about to head to the station for a bit and El wants to go to Mike’s for a little bit, are you alright to stay here? Alone?” he asked in a soft, almost intimidated voice.

The softness of his voice was ironic, considering she was half his size, but fitting for the situation. He didn’t know how she’d react to being on her own for the first time and he, in good conscience, couldn’t leave without peace of mind that she’d keep it together.

“Yeah—Yeah! I should be fine here for a few hours.” she said, smiling over at him reassuringly.

“Alright, kid, just making sure. My number is taped onto the wall next to the phone and there’s those TV dinners in the freezer. Take the foil off of them before you put them in—“ he started, noting the amused smile on her face while he cut himself off, remembering she wasn’t a child. “Just—Just call me if you need anything, alright?”

She agreed and said goodbye to the two of them, feeling odd as soon as they left. Soon enough, she was finding something to do to busy herself. There were plenty of things that she had wanted to do for so long, like listen to music and watch TV, things she had only heard about in passing. So, she started by listening to the radio in the background while getting to know the house a little better. After becoming bored with the radio, she tried the TV. Sure, she had watched some Miami Vice reruns with El and Hop, but she wanted to find something new. She searched and searched for something to fixate on for more than ten minutes, but there was nothing.

At this point, Grace was downright bored. She looked all around the house to find something, anything to do to occupy herself. After some searching, a pile of books on the kitchen table caught her eye. She was intrigued, to say the least, especially after remembering El reading one of them just that morning. So, Grace picked one up and flipped to some random page.

Realization hit her all at once when she looked down at the page and her heart sunk. In her years at the lab, she was trained to speak English, Spanish and Russian. She was the most eloquent experiment that Hawkins Lab had, and they were damn proud of it. Grace could manipulate people’s thoughts into whatever language she needed, she could tell people what she wanted without even speaking. But in all of those years stuck in those confinements, she didn’t learn how to fucking read more than a few basic words.

Grace could remember the first—and last—time she saw a book at the lab like it was yesterday. She was only eight years old and saw a colorful book in one of the testing rooms, they had left it in there after one of the other kids had left. She could remember crying and screaming when they tore it away from her, she just wanted to see it. But, Brenner pushed on, making her start whatever testing they were doing that day. They soon gave up, realizing that she was relentless and wouldn’t do anything unless she got to see the book.

There was one experimenter that worked under Brenner, her name was Susan, and she was the only person Grace had an ounce of trust for in that place. She could remember sitting with Susan that day and could nearly hear her voice reading the book to her as she replayed the memory in her mind. The book was A Very Hungry Caterpillar, she would never forget it. Grace envied that stupid caterpillar that turned into a butterfly when she was a kid, and at seventeen—almost eighteen—years old she still did. She wanted to fly away from everything, forget about the past and let go of Hawkins Lab forever, but she knew that wasn’t possible.

The thing about powers is that they’re not always super. In Grace’s case, it seemed like they were never super. She felt like the villain all the time, like she could never use her powers for good. Brenner had trained her to have a desire to use them all the time, to feel a need to use her powers on anyone that crossed her path. As much as she hated it, she could never make the impulse go away. She had fought the feeling off for a little over a week now, so it was getting difficult to control. The only problem was that now that she was alone, she felt like she couldn’t do anything about the impulse.

When there wasn’t anyone around to read, her mind would seem to eat itself away. She had tried to distract herself with anything that she could, but she’d ran out of ideas after picking up the unreadable book. She started to replay memory after memory from her own life, trying to satiate the need to use her power. It wasn’t working like she thought it would, she had never had this problem in the lab there was always someone around that she could read there.

She had no idea how long she had sat at the kitchen table with that stupid book clutched in her fingers, honestly. The concept of time for her was useless in the moment, since each memory seemed to last longer than the last one. She was in such a daze that she didn’t even hear the front door when it creaked open at 9 p.m., when El slipped into the house with Steve in tow. Hop had called him and ordered him to check on the place when he dropped El off for the night.

Grace could hear someone talking next to her, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. Her nose was dripping blood and had pooled onto the table beneath her chin, she was in an exhausted daze and hadn’t even noticed. She would’ve never guessed that her powers could be so self-destructive, but here she was, feeling like her trauma was eating her alive.

The only thing to bring her back to reality was when a hand touched hers, sending shockwaves through her body. She didn’t want to, but she was sent into their thoughts. Her eyes snapped towards Steve as his hand reached for hers to get her attention, and was immediately pulled into his mind. He was scared, terrified almost. He couldn’t tell that she was in his thoughts, but he knew she was lost in something.

“What the hell is going on? I thought she could read people’s minds, what was she doing?” he thought. “Okay, don’t panic—just stay calm. El will freak out if I do and I don’t want her to call Hop. Just think—don’t panic, even though this shit is crazy. Wait, why is she looking at me like that? She looks so tired—why does she look so beautiful still—no, stop—“

She eventually pulled herself out out his mind and felt like she the wind had been knocked out of her when she came back. Her head nearly dropped from exhaustion when she came to, but Steve was there to catch her, paper towel in hand to wipe the blood, before it did. El watched from afar, terrified of what was happening because she knew exactly what Grace had done to herself.

“You alright?” he asked, lifting her chin to wipe the blood as she shook her head weakly. “What happened?”

“Can’t—Can’t read.” she whimpered, looking up at him through lidded eyes, seeing the concern spread across his face.

He only furrowed his brow at her words, knowing that she didn’t even know what she was saying at this point. Steve pried the book that was still in her grip from her fingers then slipped his arm underneath hers, picking her up to carry her into her bedroom. Grace went willingly, no energy left in her to fight or explain what actually happened. She was limp in his arms and exhaustion was taking over quickly, eyes fighting to stay open for a little longer.

“Want to read.” she whispered as he put her into the bed, wiping any of the excess blood from her nose. “Want to learn.”

“We’ll teach you how to read, okay? You gotta sleep right now, though. We’ll fix this all soon, we’ll fix you and make you better.” Steve said, a bittersweet smile on his lips as she nodded lazily, cuddling into the sheets as sleep began to take over.

“Beautiful.” she hummed, dozing off as she spoke “Like the butterfly.”

The last thing she could remember was Steve’s thoughts, when he called her so beautiful specifically. It reminded her of the book Susan read to her when she was in that testing room nearly ten years before, when the caterpillar turned into a beautiful butterfly. She felt better, felt like there was hope as she drifted away. Steve and El watched her for a few moments after she fell asleep, making sure she stayed asleep and didn’t wake up and freak out. But she seemed content, and already looked much better than she did when they first walked into the house.

tags: @sourapplebaby @harringtown @hystericalmedicine @charmed-asylum @queenofthehairharrington @a-magey @lemonypink @daddystevee @karasong @heart-eye-harrington @batbatsupermanme @used-avocado @letscici @igotmadskills @jxnehxpper

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information:  this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Let me tell you a good story - Part 3

March 2nd, 2048 “No way!” Drake leaned back on the chair, laughing his heart out. “You didn’t realize that Ms. K. Sayeed was her??”

“No!!” Anna whined behind her hands. “I found out later.”

“A month later, might we add.” Kamilah was shaking her head judgementally. “You cannot imagine how much fun I had listening to her complaining about the boss, ‘Ms. Sayeed’, right in my office.”

“FOR ONE MONTH?” Drake’s chin fell.

“I… I… Uh, come on! It’s not my fault. She signed her works with ‘K. Sayeed’. How the hell would I know? I don’t google every author I read.”

“But, ma’am, she told you her name was Kamilah right before joining a conference which had for main lecturer a ‘K. Sayeed’.”

“Wait, let me defend her now.” Lysia put a hand on Drake’s arm, suddenly monopolizing his attention. The diamond ring on her finger sparkled against the light. “In Brazil, Kamilah is a quite common name, but not with a ‘K’. It’s always with a ‘C’. She had never met a ‘Kamilah’ with a ‘K’ before. Therefore, she couldn’t link my mom’s name with ‘K. Sayeed’. It’s like someone telling you her name is ‘Kate’ right before going to a conference held by, I don’t know, ‘C. Hudson’. Would you automatically think this could be a ‘Cate’ with a ‘C’?”

Kamilah gave her daughter a proud smile. There was her little genius lawyer showing up. Every time Lysia put on that tone on her voice, so delicate yet firm and confident, the vampire queen would feel the urge to applaud and hug her tight. She grew up so fast. When did my little fairy princess-ninja become a beautiful woman?

“Ok, ok. Now I get it.” Drake gave in, melted by the argument as much as by Lysia’s touch. “Go on. When did you find out? What happened?”

Annie took a deep breath, her face already back to its natural colour. “So, after I basically criticized and called her thesis’s conclusion to be stupid… And laughed at Adrian’s thesis as well… Kamilah just fell in love.”

The woman beside her almost choke on wine. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, please. You got horny cause I had the audacity to criticize your work. No one had done it before.”

“MOM!” Lysia twitched her nose. “Please, do not say horny. That’s not a picture I want in my head.”

“Alright. Your mother felt very… Blissful. She spent an entire week thinking about my gorgeous audacity, until she finally took the courage to invite me out on a date. Actually, to command her assistant to do it.” Anna shot an accusing glare. “Couldn’t do it yourself, huh? Coward.”

Kamilah crossed her legs, avoiding that look. “We could say, if you insist, that I was only being careful to let someone more… Social… Handling the situation. And it wasn’t a real date.”

Annie laughed. “Right. I know you just wanted to see me again.”

 August 22nd, 2018

             Days were getting a bit too cold for Anna’s taste. She had grown in such a hot city that anything under 25ºC (77ºF) was already considered freezing. Hence why she was wearing heavy pajamas and socks that afternoon, all covered in blankets while eating cookies. It was her day off and Princess Bride was on TV. She had seen it a hundred times, for it was her favourite movie, yet still laughed at the same jokes. One day, months later, Annie would watch it again with her girlfriend. Three years from now, with her wife. In ten years, with her five-year-old child between her legs. But tonight, all she was aware of was a warm feeling on her chest, the urge to see someone she didn’t know how to find.

           “Stop it”. She stared at the cookies, scowling. “It was just a random woman. You don’t even know anything about her. She could be a boring ass businessperson.”

             “Ahem.” Kamilah interrupted the story, an icy glare coming down at Annie. “I don’t understand why being a businessperson sounds like a flaw in your mouth.”

           “Not the point. Hush.”

             The movie was about to end when a high sound made Anna jump on the couch.

           “Phone! Ok, where is it…” She went looking around the mess of books and papers, until finally finding it hidden inside a pencil case. “Yes, hello. Hi.”

           “…Am I speaking to Ms. Anna Mali?”

           “Yup, that’s me. Who is this?”

           “Ms. Mali, my name is Jacob Lee, I’m… Kamilah’s assistant. She wished to know if you’re available to have dinner tonight, at seven o’clock.”

           “Oh.” Annie sank on a chair, confused. “Are you asking me out on a date? I mean, Kamilah. Through you.”

           “I’m… Not sure if she would like me to answer that. I was specifically told to call you and set dinner to either tonight or Saturday night. Whatever suits your schedule.”

           “Right. Can you put her on the phone, please?”

           “She is at a meeting now.”

           “Of course.” Annie sighed, disappointed. “Ok. Tonight’s perfect. Where should I meet her?”

           “I’ll text you the address. Thank you for your time, Ms. Mali.”

           Something was off. Anna stared at her phone, trying to understand what just happened when Lily’s voice appeared from the steamy bathroom. “So, I think now we’ve officially ran out of hot water. What ya doing, girl? Let’s put another movie on.”

           “I... Think I might have a date. In two hours.”

           “WHAT? Is it the hot woman you met that day? Was it her on the phone?” Lily grew impatient by the silence. “Come on! Give me something here!”

           “Yes, I… Lil, okay, listen, this is super important. Help. Me. Look. Gorgeous.”

           She took the mission seriously. Without much time to think about it, Lily fetched a nice fancy dress, combed her hair into a loose bun, put on a provocative shade of red lipstick and, finally, struggled against the decision of which coat letting her use. Normally, Anna would wear something warm and heavy. It was 20ºC (68ºF) outside, and for her that was enough reason to burry herself in clothes. But Kamilah would definitely judge it.

           “Ok, blood. You better boil in there and keep my friend warm because we’re doing this.” Lily handed her a light and elegant lace coat.

           “Is my accent too strong?” she bounced at the doorway, still unsure.

           “Yes, and for the hundredth time, don’t let this bother you so much. You speak four languages, for fuck’s sake. If anyone around here mocks your accent again, I’ll kick his ass. Stop worrying and go. Text me if you need rescuing, alright?”

           It was 06:45 when she left the apartment. Ten minutes later, her cab stopped at the destination.

           “Have a good date, miss!” said the driver.

           “Thank you! But… Wait, is this correct?”

           “Yes, miss. It’s the address you gave me.”

           They were parked outside a huge and beautiful business building. Not the kind of place for dates. Anna walked in with a confused look on her face. A sign on the wall said “Ahmanet Financial”. That’s oddly familiar. The moment she approached the balcony, a young man came to greet her. His voice sounded familiar the minute he started speaking.

           “Good evening, Ms. Mali. Kamilah must be down in a minute. Could you kindly wait at the lobby?”

           “Hm, Jacob… Right? Jacob Lee.”

           “Yes, that would be me.”

           “I’ll wait, no problem. She can take her time.”

           “No need.” Kamilah’s voice made them jump. She had just stepped out of the elevator. “You can go back upstairs, Jacob. Thank you.”

           “Yes, Ms. S… I mean, Kamilah. Boss. I’m going.” The assistant seemed troubled, walking hesitantly away from them.

           Anna opened her mouth to ask what the hell happened to him, but she shut it when her eyes noticed the look on the other woman’s face. Kamilah’s stare started on her shoes, slowly climbing the legs covered by pantyhose, passing through the black flowered dress, lingering a while at the neckline and finally reaching the red lips. The Brazilian felt so deeply analysed a shiver went through her spine. Kamilah’s critical eyes weren’t giving away her thoughts. She could be either enjoying or hating the view, there was no clue.

           “Good evening.” Anna spoke, both hypnotized and insecure. “Uhm… You… You look gorgeous. Well. Fancy. You look fancy. Let’s go with that.”

           Kamilah arched an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “Thank you. May we go?”

           “Sim. May. We may.” Annie sighed. “Sorry, sometimes I still struggle against the language.”

           “Don’t worry. I am familiar with the feeling.” Kamilah walked back to the elevator without even checking if the girl was following.

           “So, you’re not American?” she tried to catch up her fast pace.

           “No. I’m Egyptian. But I came here a long time ago.”

           Annie kept her silence, well-aware that the woman was staring at her again. Maybe that wasn’t a date at all, but a job interview. Maybe she was being considered to fit a position. No… It doesn’t make sense. My work has nothing to do with all of this. When the elevator doors opened, it was to the entrance of a highly fancy restaurant. A tall hostess came to greet them while another one guided both to an empty table by a huge window.

           “Red or white?”

           “What?” Anna looked away from the view. “Oh, the whine. White, please. Sauvignon Blanc.”

           Kamilah kept her posture, not even glancing at the whine menu. Even though her expression was unreadable, the tone on her voice seemed a little impressed. “You heard the lady, Mr. Kendall. Bring us the best Sauvignon Blanc you have.”

           “Right away, miss.”

           Anna watched as the waiter left them, suddenly noticing they were the only two clients there.

           “How was the other professor’s article?”

           “Who?” The Brazilian woman looked down, momentarily searching her memory. There went the fingers entangling again. “Oh. You mean Faith? From that night? It was good. There were a few improvements to do, though.”

           “I see.”

           Anna smiled as the waiter poured the wine for them. Her hands seemed to hesitate, waiting for Kamilah to drink it first, only then taking a sip herself. After that, her body began to relax, black eyes sparkling as analysing the Egyptian’s features. “How was the lecture? Did you enjoy it?”

           “It was pleasant. Some of the speakers were quite good.”

           “I actually googled Ms. Sayeed works afterwards, while I was waiting for Faith.”

           Kamilah’s lips opened a small smile, her voice showing a hint of curiosity. “And?”

           “She has some articles about history I wasn’t aware of. She can be really interesting when is not talking about economics.” Anna taped her fingers together, trying to speak slower so she wouldn’t miss the pronunciation. “I read four of them. Two about history itself. Loved these. She gets the job of the historian in a way only a few do… It’s almost like she can feel the passing of time, our history, differently than the rest of us.”

           Kamilah crossed her legs, still amused. “What about the other two?”

           “It’s hard for me to criticize it, they were about Egyptian history. I don’t know much of this subject. It was well-written, that’s for sure.” Anna narrowed her eyes, like something was finally connecting. “Wait.”

           Egyptian history. Egyptian woman. Ahmanet Financial.

           “This place…” She inclined her head, confused. “Is this place hers? Ahmanet Financial?”

           “Yes, it is.”

           “And you… Are you like… Her partner or something? Do you work for her?”

           Kamilah sighed. I cannot believe this. “Well, yes. I suppose we can say that.”

           Anna was still blushing. A beautiful tone of pink matching the red lips. “I knew the name of this building was familiar. Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have said all these things if I knew she was your boss.”

           “I appreciated the honesty.” Kamilah seemed to become more serious, her smile replaced by a solid face. “Ms. Sayeed… People don’t often say such straightforward thoughts about her work. Although I do disagree with you in many aspects, your opinions were truthful and valuable.”

           Annie closed her eyes of embarrassment. Since she was already feeling exposed, why not rip the band-aid off? “Kamilah, is this a date or a professional meeting?”

           The woman in front of her laughed for a second. “Oh, dear. You couldn’t possibly handle me on a date. Now… Let’s get down to business.”

[wickednerdery]

Title: Out of Time Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Loki x Stark!OC Rating: FRC Summary: “I’m always VIP.” Notes: So I found this gif on Google - if it’s yours, I’m happy to credit - and it inspired this idea where Loki (after escaping with the Tesseract in Endgame, perhaps?) ends up in a strange cyberpunk/futuristic Earth. No idea if I’ll continue this or what, but it HAD to come out, lol!

Chapter 2

The Midgard he arrived at was not the one he left. It was older, wilder, both brighter and darker in turn. Loki shifted into Midgardian garb before approaching a main street, nothing looking familiar. The cars ran on their own, machines walked alongside mortals, and the sky above was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.

“Hey, you lookin’ to jive?” A man asks from behind leopard-printed leather mask. 

Loki takes the other in fully. Boots, hooded jumpsuit to match the leopard-print mask, and wild burgundy mohawk. The lights at the knuckles of his gloves alternate between red and yellow as he closes fist, then glow pure yellow across the board as a small, square, tab appears from between two fingers.

“Three million credits.” Heterochromatic eyes smile. “Thirteen million for VIP.”

“I’m always VIP.” Loki waves his hand, the man switches a plain white plastic bit for a red one, stamped with golden mask. “Now, tell me more about this ‘jive’.”

“Ms Stark! Ms Stark!!” The crowds, press and plebeians both, call for her as she steps from black auto-motive. Some cheer in excitement, telling her they love her. Others scream in tirades, declare her a “Tuhao war bitch”. Interviewers ask about men, women, freedom versus security, and her thoughts on Stark technology used to hold down the lower class.

“Sorry, no questions this evening. Not for Ms Stark anyway.” The voice of her car is that of her ancestor. Red lines blaze from head and tail lights, demarcating a barrier and allowing her to carry on into the museum unaccosted. “But I’d be more than happy to answer some, maybe take any praise you have for her.”

Once away from the masses, Ana tugs at the collar of her cocktail dress. It unravels gold, falling to the floor as a gown for the evening. Simple trick really, more to do with sewing than technology, but it never fails to turn heads. “Tony...” she smiles. “Don’t get yourself a parking ticket talking to all your fans.”

“Of course not, when have I ever done that?” The auto replies in her ear. 

“Last week? That time in Tokyo...that other time in Mumbai.”

“Okay, okay, point made. I’m out.”

Ana chuckles as car tires screech away in the distance. She carries on, men stepping aside with bowing heads to let her in. Her name is a whisper of reverence on their lips. Upon entering the exhibit turned ballroom people catch sight of her and begin to applaud.

“Ladies and gentleman, CEO of Stark International, chairperson of the Avengers Youth of America, and head of Earth’s Legion of Scientific Security...Ms Ana Roget Stark!” In the official announcement by the museum’s spokesperson the applause rises in volume and gusto.

Loki looks up, drink in hand, with interest. Stark? His lips curl in amused interest. He scans the crowd, then moves his focus back to her. Like the Stark he knows, she’s wholly confident and reveling in the face of adulation. While more polite, her smile indicates she believes herself worthy of the love she receives.

Her eyes scan from the balcony, land on the mysterious man in black. When he lifts his glass in notable salute, her brow goes up a fraction. Then she turns to the museum head. “Yes, yes, thank you for that...way too impressive introduction. I really would have just settled for Nobel prize winning person of the century.” She laughs, all but Loki join in. “My great-grandfather, Anthony Stark, unknowingly started this museum when he passed, leaving behind his suits and prototypes in the workshop of Stark Tower. Some still unfinished, some ready for mass production to make the world safe in his absence. They were able to be preserved and, yes, even improved upon as this place was created around them. As much as the Starks may have given to this museum, it gave back to the world. It is a sprawling testament of technology and innovation, of how far we have come and how far we can go. I thank all of you, each and every one, for your commitment to science, to knowledge, and to this museum in particular. I encourage you to continue that commitment tonight at the auction and in going forward with your donations.” Her eyes return to the man whose eyes never left her. “Thank you for coming, I look forward to speaking with you all before the night is over.”

Loki does not approach the lithe beauty with his enemy’s name, but his eyes do not leave her either. She swans about the room with the same confidence as the Stark he knows, but her manner is more delicate. She uses more deference in approaching others, is more flattering toward them than herself. Her show is alluring, appealing, boarding on arrogant but never crossing the line. Yet, when she does finally approach him, her manner changes.

“So, how did you do it?” She’s direct, no longer glad-handing, but nevertheless rapt with anticipation as she sits beside him at a table. “Cyber worm? Reverse engineering? Or did you figure out the sequence and use the key-code?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s no clue what she’s talking about, can’t even think how to answer.

Ana’s face falls to disappointment bordering on annoyance. “You bought it pre-rigged. Figures. I send out a golden ticket and people can only think about the quick buck.” She sighs, starts to get up. “I hope this was worth whatever the invite cost you, because it’s all you get. I don’t have time for fans.”

“Wait.” His hand flies out, takes hold of wrist.

She twists free, grabs his wrist in retaliation, and hits him with 75,000 volts via taser ring worn on her middle finger. She keeps hold until he’s limp, then releases and lets him tip over the table like a drunk. “Security, toss the lump in black at table 17.” Frustrated at her failed test, done with the night, Ana heads out a discreet side door that leads to the rest of the museum.

Looking over the reconstruction of the late Tony Stark’s penthouse Ana sighs. This is still where she feels most at home. Here and her own workshop, but she’s no mind for innovation right now. “How did you do it? How did you keep going?” She asks her ancestor aloud. Failures didn’t bother her, they were always part of success. It’s lack of momentum that drives her to darkness, to the functional bar where she pours two fingers of old school whiskey.

“You are a Stark.” Loki, in more regal and battle-ready gear, stands before the screen display of old New York. “Though a far fairer one, to be sure.” He winks, laughs when glass drops, shattering at her feet.

“Who are you?” Hand goes to her ear first, patching her into Tony, then the ruby and gold bracelet. She rubs it, anxious. “Oscorp? Stane International? Yak?” Ana takes him in, his new suit and the wild glint in his eye. “Or are you one of the anarchists? AIM? One of those anti-techs groups?”

He laughs. “Oh no, I’m my own man, Ms Stark. I don’t follow, I am followed.”

“Well, you have my attention, Mr...Mystery Man. What do you want?”

Loki hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’s merely intrigued by her, by wherever, whenever, he’s arrived.

“Really? I give you the floor and you stand mute?” Ana smirks. “Fascinating...and pointless. Thanks for the disruption and broken glass.” She starts to make another drink.

“Not curious how I got here then?”

“Only when you plan on leaving.” New glass in hand she heads out of the exhibit. She sees a biohazard symbol swimming across a fully masked face, hears the huff of the silencer, and feels the world slip past her as she goes down.

In a flick of his wrist Loki blasts the man through the wall, rushes to Ana as her gold dress goes red, then black, with blood. He gets arms under before her head hits the floor. “You’re not allowed to die until I wish it.” He watches her eyes widen in surprise, as if she didn’t expect him to be real.

“H-How...noble...” She snarks through the blooming pain, her world going dark as the mystery man’s suit.

So...that’s everything I have that’s clear in my mind for this right now, haha! Like, I know that Ana lives and all, but I’m not sure after that. I’ve some options: Loki leaves her to recover and stalks her from afar, Loki brings her back to her home and keeps her semi-captive there, Loki leaves her, but she seeks him out in gratitude and interest. ...But, even then, unsure of the sweeping story - is there a set enemy to go against together? Do they become enemies themselves? Or is this more of a romance? Is there more time travel?? So many questions/ideas, not enough determined yet, lol!

I’ll take suggestions though, haha!! 😉

Side Notes: Tuhao is a Chinese term referring to people of wealth. By “jive” the guy means party, in general. The description of the sky is a pull from William Gibson’s Neuromancer (awesome book!). The groups Ana lists are all from Marvel, all enemies of Iron Man in one way or another. And, yes, her self-driving car has the voice and personality of Tony Stark - he is her main AI, just as JARVIS and FRIDAY were Tony’s.

Tagging: @lady-crowned-with-stars​, @beccaliciooouuusss, gravitational-anomaly, @fuckthatfeeling, @v-2bucky, @ultrarebelheart​, @tarithenurse​ @latent-thoughts​ @chibiyanai​ @lukeevansandjdmobession​ @sweetfictionalworld​ @ladyfluff​ ...And I legit don’t know who else to tag anymore lol

[fic-for-fic-sake]

Coffee?

A/N: Hey guys, so about a year ago I wrote a fic called “A Chance Encounter” which was a Steve x reader fic. This is a follow up to that but you can also read it as a oneshot, whatever you want!

Pairing: Steve x reader

Ever since your chance encounter with none other than Captain America at Penn Station two weeks ago the two of you had been texting non-stop. You swore Steve, it still felt weird calling him that, didn’t have a job saving the world with how quickly and how often he responded to your messages. Sometimes he even initiated them which shocked you even more if you were being honest. Speaking of which, you looked at your phone as it beeped, a message from Steve popping up on the screen. 

Steve: When can I see you again?

You felt like an idiot, staring at the message reading it over and over again, imagining his smooth voice saying it to you. You wondered if he had the same goofy smile plastered on his face as you did. Probably not, he seemed too suave for that. 

You: I’ll be in the city tomorrow for a meeting.

Playing it cool. Just casual, he didn’t need to know that you were literally rearranging your schedule right now to make this meetup possible because goddamnit you wanted to see him again too. Ever since the night he helped you, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Thinking about that million dollar smile he gave you, how he smelled like cinnamon and wood fire spice. His beautiful sandy blonde hair that sometimes got in his eyes if he leaned forward a bit too much. Okay, maybe you had googled him again since your last meeting but you couldn’t help it. He was literally an Adonis. 

Steve: Perfect! Can I take you out for coffee?

Your heart did a somersault in your chest. Sure Steve had given you his number and sure you two had been texting but now he was asking you for coffee? You were actually going to see him again and you were going to have a conversation with him and holy fuck you needed to calm down before you imploded. Letting out a few controlled breaths to get your heart rate back to normal you picked up your phone and typed your reply. 

You: Coffee would be great

Great. Coffee would be great. What you wanted to say was that coffee would be incredible but I would take an hour train into the city just for the promise of maybe bumping into you again because I haven’t been able to take my mind off of you. What have you done to me? But yeah, ‘coffee would be great’ worked too. 

Steve: See you then doll

Oh now that wasn’t fair. You groaned and put your head in your crossed arms as you let your phone lay in front of you. What were you going to do? What the hell would you even wear? The last time you met him you’re sure you were the epitome of a hot mess. But you didn’t want to try too hard because what if that gave him the wrong impression and who were you turning into? You highly doubted that Steve Rogers seemed like the type to care what a girl was wearing much less place some type of meaning on her appearance. 

*

You sighed as you turned to look at yourself from multiple angles in your mirror. Light wash jeans, Adidas sneakers, and a flannel. You looked good, casual, but good. This would work for your quick meeting and coffee with Steve. With one final fixing of your hair you left for the train station. 

Your meeting lasted a lot quicker than you thought and you looked at the time. You still had two hours before you needed to meet Steve so you decided to make your way to the New York Public Library. You could use a good book to calm you down right about now. 

Walking through the quiet room you observed the numerous college students who had their textbooks pulled out and highlighters at the ready. You did not envy them. You remembered your time as a student fondly but it wasn’t an experience you were keen to repeat. Your sneaker clad feet made soft noises as you walked over to the fantasy section. You needed to get lost for a little bit, you could feel nervous energy making its way through your body whenever you thought about your coffee date with Steve. Was it even a date? Or were you just two people catching up? Okay, now you really needed a book. 

Walking through the numerous rows of books you took in the smell of old paper and smiled. You really did love the library. Tracing your finger along the spines of the books you stopped when you found the author you were looking for, Gaiman. But damn him for having a last name so early in the alphabet and damn your family for making you not able to reach the book. You got on your tiptoes and your finger barely grazed the book, you almost had it, just needed to reach a little bit further. You felt yourself losing your balance and you let out a short yelping sound as your feet gave out underneath you and you were really expecting to hit the floor faster than you did. 

Wait, this was odd. You hadn’t fallen at all. You felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and pull you into their embrace. You were about to protest but then you recognized the voice attached, the same voice you had been thinking about for the past two weeks. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this doll.” Steve joked as he righted you on your feet again. 

“I can’t help it, I’m a klutz.” You gave him an apologetic smile as you shrugged your shoulders. Looking at him again was like getting a fresh drink of water, you hadn’t realized how much you needed it. He was wearing a gray Henley and black jeans with black shoes. God he looked good. The sleeves on the Henley were rolled up to his elbows which really did things to you. You could feel yourself begin to blush and hoped he would think it was the shock of almost falling that was the cause. 

“What book were you trying to get anyway?” He questioned, looking up at the shelf in question. 

“Good Omens by Neil Gaiman, it’s kind of a guilty pleasure of mine.” You replied sheepishly. You hadn’t told a lot of people that but you felt comfortable telling Steve, like you had known him all your life. “By the way, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be saving the world or something?” 

“Well I kinda saw you come into the library and I figured I would just meet you early.” Steve replied as he brought his right hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, making his biceps flex on their own accord. 

Was he serious? He wanted to meet you early? Really? The shock must have showed on your face because he spoke again quickly. 

“I mean, if that’s not weird or anything.” 

“Steve, it’s not weird at all. It’s actually really sweet.” You assured him. 

“Well, you ready to go?” He questioned as he moved to stand next to you and casually reached down and entwined your fingers with his. Your breath hitched slightly but you looked up to see him give you another heart stopping smile of his and then the two of you walked out of the library, hand in hand, ready for coffee.

[latestageyouth]

A date to kill for

pairing: intrulogical

summary: A writer and a serial killer walk into a bar. Their date is actually quite nice.

@stonedvirgil I hope you like it!!

Logan was nervous, understandably. It wasn't every day that someone had the same interests as him...That was if they weren't a serial killer, of course. The chances of which as very slim, less than .00039%, so Logan has nothing to worry about. He glanced at the clock on the bar wall. His date is 2 minutes too late, maybe they weren't such a good match. After all, the other man insisted they meet at a bar, let alone in the poorer part of the town. Logan ordered another water, it was clear he was waiting for someone. He tapped his finger unconsciously on the table. He doesn't notice when the door opens, or the footsteps, he only flinches and looks back when a hand lands on his shoulder.

"Hey! You're, uh, Logan, aren't ya?"

Logan straightened his glasses, "Precisely. You're late."

The other man sat down at the barstool next to Logan, "Only by like four minutes, no biggie."

Logan sighed, "I suppose so. Pardon my inattention, what was your name again?"

His date-mate smirked, "Remus," he held out his hand. Logan shook it.

"Please to meet you, Remus."

Even as Logan tried to distance the hand, Remus didn't let go, instead tugging the hand his way and kissing it, "Oh, believe me, the pleasure is all mine. It isn't every day you meet another murderer."

Logan chuckled awkwardly, "A morbid sense of humour, I see," just because he didn't get the joke doesn't mean he should make Remus feel uncomfortable. Remus finally let go of the hand.

"You know it, buttercup," he winked and leaned against the bar.

Logan took a sip of water, "So, why are you researching such ghastly things?"

Remus snickered, "Could ask you the same, why are you googling the most efficient ways to kill someone and where to hide their body? By chance, did your late husband die under mysterious circumstances?"

Logan began to think that this peculiar being called Remus would make a...decent partner. He smiled subtly, "Sadly, no. I am writing a novel, hence the strange search history. May I ask you why you research those things?"

Remus' eyebrow quirked up, but soon his face changed into a disinterested and bored one and he leaned back, "Eh, just 3 am thoughts."

"Perhaps not just 3 am?"

"Look, my mind is a very curious place, but enough about me," Remus leaned back in, resting his hands on his knees, "Let's talk about you," he shoved his pointer finger into Logan's chest, "What's that book of your's about? How long did you write it? How did you get the idea? C'mon, spill the beans already."

Something in Logan's chest fluttered, he paid it no mind, "The story starts with our protagonist, Sarah Miller, and her childhood best friend Valeria. Sarah finds herself cornered by her abusive husband one day and without any rational thought, smashes a frying pan over his head hard enough to kill him," he checked if Remus was still listening.

The said man was resting his hands on his chin, looking back at Logan with a face Logan could only describe as the one he himself made when he found out someone had the same interest in morbid things as him. Remus raised his eyebrows.

Logan continued, the feeling in his chest getting tighter, "Sarah confides in Valeria, who helps her dispose of the body, and although Valeria has a decent life in the small town, she decides to help Sarah hide from the authorities. The two travel from city to city, town to town. One chapter translates into one town, and, as if Sarah is cursed, something bad always happens to her, whether it be a robber with a gun asking for her money or the police catching up to them. It isn't long before Valeria-" and Logan rambles on, looking spaced out and disconnected from reality. Remus was planning on killing the fellow, but damn, if this isn't one hot nerd if Remus ever saw one. If Remus wasn't a realist, which he wasn't, he would've thought Logan's eyes lit up with a thousand burning suns, which they did.

"Are you even listening? I-I mean, I don't mean to sound forceful, I understand if you don't," Logan stopped himself.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows, "Um, actually, I need to know what happens to Valeria after they get separated in the police chase. The only complaint that I have is that if Aaron was so be stabbed like that, it would take him about 20 minutes to bleed out, not 10."

"T-thanks for the tip," Logan internally wondered how much an emerald wedding would cost. What? He likes to plan for the future, "How do you know that anyway?"

Remus crossed his arms smugly, "Oh, just from experience. I am not a pussy."

Logan might just change the emerald for onion rings. Just maybe. He glanced at his watch, it was getting late. he sighed, "I am afraid that it's getting late and I would like to avoid walking home alone at night, and although I did enjoy this date and would want a second one, I don't think I am ready to show you where I live."

"Eh, fair enough, I don't usually stalk on a first date."

Logan still hasn't moved from his spot. Oh, he's waiting for Remus. He spoke up, "I would want you to avoid walking home alone at night too."

Remus nodded and waved his hand dismissively, "Yeah, don't worry, I won't be here for long."

Logan nodded, "Alright, I wish you good rest of the night."

"Ditto," Remus responded as Logan walked out the door. He called the bartender and ordered a beer, because, wow, an actual boyfriend. Remus shifted and the pocket knife in the inner pocket of his jacket rubbed against his ribcage uncomfortably, it was sad, really, the little guy was so excited. Remus took a sip of the beer. But then again, hat a superb little nerd he found.

[midnightphoenixdream]

Safe and Sound

Hey everyone! So this is a repost of my prompt fill from fallenangelofhades. For some reason my blog got terminated and I think this prompt came from an anonymous user. So this is me, just a different blog name/new blog. 

Summary: Prompt fic. Shirakumo and Aizawa fall asleep on each other all the time. Shirakumo draws cats all over Aizawa’s notes. Aizawa likes to steal shirakumo’s jacket as a blanket when he can. Author's Note: So I absolutely love Oboro Shirakumo and I keep rereading Vigilantes and getting my heart ripped out so when I got this prompt. I fell in absolute love with it. This was so incredibly fun to do. Thank you nonie!

It was no secret that Shouta Aizawa is constantly tired twenty four seven. Between his training and his quirk usage, it left him completely mentally and physically exhausted. More times than one, Shouta would fall asleep anywhere. The first time that Shirakumo ever witnessed it, he had been used as a human pillow. They were on the roof along with Hizashi and Nemuri. While Shirakumo was chatting with Hizashi and Nemuri, he felt a small thump to his shoulder. When he had looked down, Shouta was fast asleep curled up into his side. Shirakumo had only smiled and moved Shouta until he was laying completely down with his head settled in Shirakumo's lap. The next time that it had happened had been in class when they were working on a project. They were paired off into groups of three or four and Shouta, Shirakumo, and Hizashi found themselves sitting on the floor in the back of the classroom. Shouta had taken Shirakumo's jacket off the back of his seat and threw it over himself while Shirakumo had read his notes. It had only taken ten minutes into their discussion for Shouta to be fast asleep leaning against Shirakumo. Shirakumo once again didn't say a word, instead choosing to doodle within Shouta's notebook. Shirakumo soon learned why Shouta was always so tired. When the two had started their work studies with His Purple Highness, the constant physical activity left Shirakumo in a state of physical exhaustion. Between their work study and school, Shirakumo was exhausted. Currently, they were at Shouta's house. This parents were on gone on business so Shouta was completely alone in the house. They needed to get last minute homework done and Shouta was sprawled out on his bed on his stomach writing on his work. Shirakumo was next to him with his stuff laying out on Shouta's back. It didn't take Shouta long to get all of his work done. Double checking his work, he opened up his notes and stopped for a moment. In the corner was a small drawing of a cat with a fish in its mouth. A small smile came to his face as he decided to flip through the pages. Over different spots of his notes were different little doodles of cats. All in various poses. A couple of the cats were playing with cat toys. He stopped at one page that he hadn't written notes on yet. The page was completely taken up by a drawing of a shaded black cat with red eyes. The cat had a scarf around it's neck with googles on the head with the ears poking out. Scribbled underneath was: Shou-kit. Shouta smiled, turning his head to face Shirakumo. The teen paused once he noticed that the cloud quirk user was sound asleep with his head on Shouta's lower back. His textbook laying on the bed and papers still laying around Shouta's body. The ebony haired teen sighed softly, reaching his arms behind him and attempting to grab all of the papers. Once he grabbed them all, he placed them off the side of the bed along with the textbook. Slowly, he moved from his stomach to his back. Shirakumo barely stirred. With his foot, he kicked his pillow to him and caught it before placing it underneath his head. The older teen moved slightly, curling into Shouta's side. Shouta smiled again, running his fingers through the soft blue hair. After a moment, Shouta allowed his eyes to slip shut. x It had became their routine. Shouta would steal Shirakumo's jacket whether it was from her hero costume or school uniform to use as a blanket. Once Shouta would be fast asleep cuddled within Shirakumo's side, the Cloud quirk user would take his notebook and start on a new cat doodle for Shouta to find. Later they would go to their work study with His Purple Highness and Kayama. Once they were done, they would go back to Shouta's house and do their homework or unfinished work from school. Shouta would lay on his stomach on his bed doing his work. Shirakumo would use his back as a table before falling asleep in the middle of his work. The younger teen would just put their work away, roll over, and go to sleep. Neither of them would change it for the world. x The Shou-kit picture now hung proudly on Shouta's bedroom wall by his desk. This time, Shouta sat cross legged on his bed with Shirakumo sitting at his desk. Shirakumo's jacket was thrown over the back of Shouta's desk chair. Shouta, long since done with his work already and was reading a book now, eyed the jacket hanging on the chair. Shirakumo still had his back to him looking over his textbook, Shouta's notes, and his work. Shouta crept as quietly as he could off of the bed, reaching out until he got ahold of the jacket. Shirakumo still hadn't moved from his position before Shouta slowly pulled the cloth towards him. Once the cloth was free, Shouta slipped his arms into the sleeves. He pulled the jacket close to himself, hugging it to his body before he leaned back against his pillows and grabbed for his book. "You know, if you wanted my jacket... all you had to do was ask." Shouta jumped at Shirakumo's voice. The ebony haired teen looked up at him, his face reddening as they made eye contact. Shirakumo beamed at him, twirling his pencil in his fingers. "If you wanted to draw cats in my notebook, all you had to do was ask." Shouta retorted. Shirakumo smiled, getting up from the chair, and walked over to the bed. He dropped down on the mattress. Shouta's face only got redder as Shirakumo loomed over him. "You have work to do, Oboro." Shouta whispered. Shirakumo didn't say anything as he pulled the book from Shouta's hand and placed it on the bedside table. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over Shouta's. The ebony haired teen softly pushed against Shirakumo's shoulders, forcing the blue haired teen to lean up on his elbows. Shirakumo grinned at him with a toothy smile. "I finished twenty minutes ago." He replied. Shouta gawked at him for a second. "Than what have you been doing?" The ebony haired teen question. From the look on Shirakumo's face, he should of know what was about to come out of Shirakumo's mouth. "You gave me access to your notes." Shirakumo stated, his smile getting bigger. "Now, shut up and let me kiss you." Shirakumo surged down, connecting his lips with Shouta's. The Erasure quirk user felt the sparks go down his spine as their lips danced in sync. The small boy looped his arms around Shirakumo's neck, letting them hang loosely as Shirakumo's hands roamed up Shouta's sides and slid up his shirt. The taller teen moved his hands acrossed Shouta's body until they got to his back and pushed their bodies flush against each other. Shirakumo pulled back, leaning his forehead against Shouta's with a smile plastered on his face. "I love you, Shou." The Cloud quirk user said. Shouta smiled softly, twirling pieces of Shirakumo's hair with his fingers at the base of the taller man's neck. "I love you too, Oboro." He muttered. "Can we sleep? I'm exhausted." Shirakumo nodded and dropped onto his back on the bed. Shouta turned to his side, placing his head on Shirakumo's shoulder and cuddled into his side. The taller teen curled his arm around Shouta and pulled him closed. Using his other arm, he pulled Shouta's comforter over them before reaching over and hitting the light switch.