#maybe that’s what I was rooting for all along 😉

[aheathen-conceivably]

If I remember correctly, you said before that you didn’t choose Zelda’s gender, but had written or had plans for her life that would work either way, and then just refined them when you knew what you were working with. And that’s why Josephine and Antoine are a brother-sister duo; if Zelda were born a boy, he’d be with Josephine. And of course you mention pretty frequently that Giorgio has become SO much more than he was ever intended to be.

Can you tell us a little about what would be different? Who would Antoine be with?? And Josephine with a baby.. I can hardly imagine 🫢

AHHH friend!! This is such a delicious question, and so timely at that 😉

So yes, that’s correct. I didn’t change any of the birth sex or genetics for our first generations of Darlington babies. I was still in a phase of writing/planning where I was functioning more on general ideas than deadset plans. So before our heir was born all I really knew was that they would end up in New Orleans by 1920, and that the decade was going to explore the artistic scene in that era. I also knew that if they were born female, they were going to be a jazz singer while if they were born male, they were going to be a writer who documented the whole era almost like from an “outsider’s perspective.”

In both of these scenarios the heir’s personality would have been very similiar, in that they would get pulled into this world by the Duplanchiers and kind of be swept up in it beyond themselves. I had a very vague sort of F. Scott/Zelda Fitzgerald vibe visualized for our potential 1920s male heir and Josephine, and I think a lot of the tempestuous conflict between her and Giorgio was originally born from that vision.

Beyond that, I didn’t really have much planned. More that the characters were envisioned and waiting there for us. So I couldn’t tell you the route Antoine would have taken if our male heir had ended up with Josephine, mostly because their actual arcs and plot points came after Zelda was born, and even much of it when she was already in New Orleans.

Josephine especially, who’s character I had visualized since before Zelda was born, didn’t actually come to life until they met. Still one of the first things I knew about her (plotwise) is that one of her partners was our impetuous to move out west. So the figure of Giorgio the first time we see him, was meant to be one of her partners, and a different one to who we eventually met in Strangerville. Only over time in the 1920s, they just kind of…became soulmates? Like I know they are absolutely fucked, but simultaneously the more I wrote them together the more it was like a puzzle piece that was missing from Jo’s character, and perhaps left there by my original idea of who she would have been if Zelda had been born male. So gradually the Giorgio we knew in New Orleans and the faceless partner out west became one in the same, and I bridged the gap between the two of them into one character.

And Josephine with a baby you say??? 👀👀👀

[cheapshrimpysheep]

But... We Lost...

SUMMARY: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against RSA! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. But... the villains always lose in the end... They were all so angry and you went to comfort your crush.

CHARACTERS: Basketball Club 🏀 (Ace, Floyd & Jamil)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader, Kiss, Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 560 words per character.

COMMENTS: If you're interested, I've also written a version where the reader is already in a relationship with one of them and appears in the game dressed in cheerleading attire. It was a request.

👉 Cheering for Him

I hope you enjoy 😉

CONTEXT: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against Royal Sword Academy! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. The game was extremely close. Everyone could feel the tension and anxiety in the air. And in the final moment, with our hearts in our hands, and like in any D. movie... the villains lose.

You saw Ace suffering during the game. He wanted to win so badly. After all, it was the final and you were watching. And worse, rooting for him.

As soon as they lost, he turned his back on the audience where you were. And you saw him put his hands on his head and wave his arms in frustration. You see him walk angrily towards the players' entrance/exit. Then you see Jamil stopping him and talking to him. Then the two return to the field. Each shaken in their own way. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too.

After the players have retired to the changing rooms, you went outside. You go to a place where you knew the players would pass by.

It was already dark, but you still managed to see him leave alone, without his basketball clothes on and his sports bag hanging over his shoulder. He seems to have seen you from afar too, but then he looked away as if he hadn't seen you and started walking another path, as if he were avoiding you.

You run to him and reach him in a place where the two of you are completely alone. You call his name, he stops

"What?" he says as he turns sharply back to you. “We lost. I know. I don't need your pity, kay?”

You say you don't feel sorry for him. That you're also upset that they lost. That your school lost. But just as you don't feel sorry for them, you don't blame them either. You saw how he and the others were doing their best. How important this game was. And that's why, as his friend, you just want to support him. Maybe even share your frustrations.

“Thanks. But I'm fine. I just want to go to my dorm. Kay?” He tells you. You say that you understand and that if he wanted you could talk tomorrow, or not. just hang out maybe?

He turns and starts walking again, walking away from you. Until he slows down and stops again. He turns around and sees that you didn't go anywhere, that you just stood there. He sighs and walks back to you.

He doesn't say anything, just drops the bag on the floor as he walks over and hugs you. “I'm sorry.” he says in a slightly pouty voice. “I didn't want you to see me lose.” You tell him that it doesn't matter, that you've seen him win so many times. And, mainly, that you've already seen him score and point at you as if he dedicated that to you. And as you showed how happy you were whenever he did that, you heard him mumble something like he was flattered by that.

“Dummy” You hear him murmur. You reply with "You too" and say NRC is going to kick RSA’s butts next time, both with hope and with a little desire for revenge in your voice.

And while you show this slight resentment towards RSA, he pulls away a little and kisses you. Like a thank you for being by my side kiss.

To make matters worse, Floyd had been kicked out of the game earlier. He was getting so frustrated that they were losing the game that he ended up committing several fouls. And as soon as he saw that NRC had lost, he simply left the field.

Jamil sees him leaving and no one having the courage to stop him. Then he seems to look for someone in the audience and you realize he was looking for you when he spots you and starts running towards you. He perches on the bars and asks you to come closer to him.

He asks you to see if you can calm Floyd down, because they still need to do that thing of saying goodbye to the opponents saying it was a good game. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too. And he tells you to look for him on the terrace.

You hurriedly leave and go to the terrace. You find Floyd lying on the floor with his hands behind his head, looking up at the dark sky. You walk calmly until your feet are behind his head. He doesn't move. As if you didn't bother him in the slightest.

“Floyd?” you say cautiously “hum... they still need you to finish the game. You know, the... hum... Good Game thing.”

“I don't want to.” he replied in a monotone.

“I know.” You sigh and kneel down next to him. “Is there anything I can do? You just need to say goodbye to the other players and then you can leave.”

“You can stop annoying me.” he gives you one of those serious, scary looks of his before turning around with his back to you.

You remain silent for a moment, thinking carefully about what to say and what words to use. “How about a deal? I'll leave you alone if you go back and close the game.”

“That's not what I want.” He says, still facing away from you.

“Then, what do you want?”

He lifts his torso and sits down “I wanted to win!” he turns back to you, with his scary face, taller than you. “I wish I had stayed until the end of the game. And I wanted you to see me finish RSA off. If I go back down there, I'm going to squeeze them one by one. Is that what you want?”

You explode saying you just want him to get it over with. You just want him to end that game, vent his frustrations as he sees fit later, and preferably with people other than RSA students. And that you just want to be able to know how to help him. Sometimes it's frustrating just wanting to help him, but having to walk on eggshells to avoid the risk of unintentionally irritating him.

He sees you getting all upset with him in silence and kind of surprised. And that makes him... laugh? And... hug you? “I like seeing you this upset. It's kinda cute.” and then he whispers in your ear: “and hot~” He breaks the hug, and you're all flattered, which makes him laugh again.

“HA HA HA! Well, you did it. I'm back in the good mood. I will end this game. But I want to see you later, do you hear?” He kisses you. And before getting up he says, with your faces very close to each other, and a big smirk on his face: "You better be waiting for me when I get out, Koebi-chan~”

Jamil is not the type to show his feelings a lot. Especially in these situations, he will hide them perfectly. Then you see him acting like everything is fine. You see him calming down some of his teammates like Ace and Floyd and ending the game with good terms with RSA.

Or at least that's what it appears. Keeping his feelings to himself the way he does, especially these kinds of feelings, is not good for him. That's why you are a little worried.

You wait for him at the exit. It's already night, but you see him leaving alone. He has his hood on, but you'd recognize him no matter what. You run to him and call him. He looks up at you, almost surprised.

“Hi, (Y/N).” he had that light, polite smile he wears regularly. “I hope I didn't disappoint you too much with our defeat. I'm sorry.”

You say you're not disappointed. Of course you're upset that they lost, but not because of them. It happens. But, knowing Jamil, he's probably more upset than you. So you ask him to go with you to a more secluded place. You say you know he's upset and he's just hiding it like he always does. And remembering that Kalim will most likely talk to him about the game when he returns to Scarabia, perhaps it would be better to release his frustrations now.

He remains silent for a moment, as if trying to find a way to say that everything was okay. But you're right. And he trusts you. So, little by little, he explodes.

He starts by saying that of course he is upset, they lost, and worse, against RSA. Then he starts to compare the training they had, how tough they were, compared to what he knew the RSA training was like, as if they were training for a children's game and still won. But the worst of all was when he had to say goodbye to them and the RSA team captain said that "he was glad everyone had fun. After all, the important thing is not winning, but team spirit and bla bla bla..." Do you have any idea how difficult it was to calm down the other NRC players? Make sure Floyd didn't break anyone's bones? Jamil almost punched the wall while venting.

You didn't interfere while he vented, you just listened to him. When he finishes and begins to calm down by taking deep breaths, you speak again. You say that you are also upset, that you really wanted them to win because you saw them playing and they deserved to win. You are frustrated along with them. And then you ask if Jamil feels a little better.

He takes a deep breath "Yes. I'm sorry you saw this, but you were the one who asked." His back was to you. And you say you don't regret it. You never regret it when he's real with you, even if it's showing how frustrated he is.

He turns to you. “Well, in that case, you don't deserve to only see my true side when I'm angry.” There was a smirk on his lips, but his eyes were more tender. He gets closer to you and gently holds you by the waist. He kisses your cheek. “Thank you, I needed that.” And if you allow it, he will kiss your lips afterwards.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 3: The Ones Who Died Without A Name]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Holiday” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

The Tahoe runs out of gas just west of Ashland, Ohio, coasting to a stop along the shoulder of State Route 96, sapphire skies and cotton ball cumulus clouds, emerald fields of Swiss chard and beets slowly being nibbled bare by deer and rabbits, the inheritors of an abandoned earth.

“Well, that’s it,” Baela says, offhand, blasé, as if it’s not a disaster. You’ve sorted this out, it didn’t take long: there are people who aren’t allowed to panic. If they do, it’ll be like a dam crumbling, and the flood will burst through to drown everything, like when Noah’s wrathful God decided it was time for the world to start over. Baela can’t panic. Aemond can’t panic. And maybe you can’t either. Rio gives you a skeptical look—Are we really about to walk to Oregon?—and you slap his thigh encouragingly as you climb over him and out of the Tahoe.

“Everyone gets a gun,” Aemond says as he starts distributing them: Rugers for Rhaena, Baela, and Helaena (although she winces as she obediently takes the revolver, immediately tucking it away into her burlap messenger bag), .22s for Daeron and Aegon, Remington 12 gauges for Jace and Rio, who gives you his M9. You’re better with it anyway. Aemond’s Glock 20 is in a handmade leather holster he took from the cellar of the house back in Distant, Pennsylvania. Luke, still a potential zombie, will not be armed; but Aemond slings the strap of a .22 over his own shoulder for in case Luke recovers.

“Safeties on, right kids?” Rio goes down the line checking everyone’s gun. “Remember what we practiced, use your sights, don’t go pointing the barrel at anyone unless you’re okay with blowing a hole in them. The noise is risky, but getting bit is worse, so use your best judgment.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Aegon says, grinning.

Rio grabs Aegon’s sunburned face roughly and smacks a kiss onto his cheek. “I know, Honey Bun. Don’t you worry. Stick close and I’ll do your thinking for you.”

You spy it up the road a ways on the right, half-obscured by tree limbs: a white and orange sign, a logo shaped like a diamond. “Oh my God. It’s a Stewart’s.”

“A what?” Aemond asks, squinting at the sign. It’s late afternoon, and soon the sun will be sinking into the west like a drowning man through deep water, and like all prey animals you are restless without the promise of shelter.

“A Stewart’s Root Beer. They used to sell hot dogs and barbeque and all these neat soda flavors like key lime and black cherry. We had one where I grew up. That was the fancy place. You knew it was a good day if you ended up at Stewart’s for dinner.”

Aemond considers you, that subtle ceaseless curiosity. “We can stay the night there.”

“I thought we didn’t want to waste any daylight, Aemond,” Jace jabs as he helps Luke—miserable but presently human—out of the Tahoe. “That’s what you said when I wanted to check out that Barnes & Noble, Aemond.”

“What the hell do you need books for?” Aegon says. He’s grabbing clear CD cases out of the center console of the Tahoe. He pounds on the eject button and then punches the CD player when he realizes he won’t be getting that particular disk back. “Oh, you bitch! I had Shakira on there!”

“I would like to preserve my ability to read at higher than a fifth-grade level. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was going to work for Sullivan & Cromwell, you know.”

“And now you’re a jobless loser just like me. Isn’t life funny?”

“You can’t be serious,” Baela says to Aegon, his arms full of CD cases. “You’re going to carry all those to California? You don’t even have a way to listen to them.”

“I’m not leaving my mixtapes.” Aegon shoves them into a U.S. Army backpack he found at Fort Indiantown Gap and then hoists it onto his back with a grunt.

Aemond tells Jace: “We only have a few hours until the sun starts going down. We don’t know what’s up ahead. We should take advantage of a safe place to sleep if it’s available. Getting caught out in the open after dark is the worst case scenario.”

“Whatever, Aemond. It’s your call. Everything is your fucking call.” Then Jace plods out into a field of rabbit-ravaged Swiss chard to relieve himself semi-privately, his back to the Tahoe.

“Hey, Chips Ahoy,” Aegon says, taking the folded-up map out of the pocket of his shorts, mint green plaid. “Want to tell me if there are any nuclear power plants near our route so we can steer clear of them and not get irradiated?”

“Uh, well, I don’t exactly have them all memorized…” You examine the map, hoping the black-ink cities will jog your memory, trivia you catalogued years ago, snippets you’ve heard from your fellow seamen. “Perry’s in Cleveland. We won’t be anywhere near that one. Fermi is up by Detroit.” You hesitate as your fingertips skate past Chicago. “Braidwood, LaSalle, and Byron are someplace between Chicago and Peoria, but I’m not sure where. And then there are a few others around the border of Illinois and Iowa. West of that, I don’t know. Rio?”

“Cooper’s in Nebraska, dead east of Lincoln. That’s all I got.”

Aegon is nodding, making notes on his map with a glittery forest green gel pen. “Cool, cool. If I don’t end up eaten or a zombie, I can look forward to being a sterile, glow-in-the-dark mutant.”

Luke frets: “What if we accidentally drink contaminated water or something?”

“Then you die an agonizing death, kiddo,” Rio says. “Your cells dissolve and you turn into human Jello and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

Luke swallows noisily. “Awesome.”

“You might just get cancer if the dose is small enough,” you tell him. Luke does not seem pacified. Rhaena gives him a sip of warm Coca-Cola from a plastic bottle from the Wawa.

Jace comes trudging back to the road, zipping up his khaki chino shorts. “Alright, are we ready?”

Helaena is gazing solemnly out over the fields of green leaves, red roots that grow like arteries into the soil. “We should try to find antivenom.”

“Antivenom?” Aemond asks, distracted as he makes sure nothing of importance was left in the Tahoe. The keys are still dangling from the ignition; you won’t need them. There’s no breathing the Tahoe back to life. There’s no returning to Aemond’s house back in Boston. There is only the West, beckoning you to cross rivers and plains and mountains to join her, and to do it as people did two hundred years ago, no cars, no phones, no escape hatches. The only way out is through.

“For the snakes,” Helaena says.

Aemond stares at her. The stitches in his face are dissolving as the flesh weaves back together, jagged maroon scar tissue, beautiful savage ruins, landscapes of improbable survival. “Helaena, antivenom has to be refrigerated. Even if we miraculously found some, it wouldn’t be useable.”

She nods, eyes wide and glazed, still peering into the fields, into the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

A hand brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, a whisper through the dissipating indigo of sleep: “Guess what today is.”

You startle awake and yelp as you bolt from your assailant. Aegon is watching you without any shame whatsoever. People are laughing as they gather up supplies so you all can get moving again, brushing teeth, arranging hair, drinking glass bottles of Stewart’s soda found last night in crates in the storeroom, snacking on bags of Utz chips. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows; specks of dust glimmer in the air like comets through the inhospitable void of outer space.

Luke says from where he is sitting on the floor, his arms and legs tethered: “Hopefully the day when somebody’s going to untie me.”

“It’s my birthday!” Aegon announces.

You’re still blinking at him, disoriented. “What…?”

“Aegon, I told you,” Aemond says, sipping a bottle of Stewart’s key lime soda. “It’s not your birthday. It’s not the 23rd.”

“It’s the 20th, right?” Rhaena says.

Rio looks to you, bewildered. “Isn’t it like the 25th?”

“We’re still in June?” Luke says. Now Aemond is hacking through his ropes with a hunting knife from the cellar in Distant, Pennsylvania.

“Your hand is healing up. Your color is good, your temperature is normal. I guess we can officially declare you human for the foreseeable future.”

“I knew it,” Jace says, combative so no one will see the desperate relief underneath.

Aemond examines your hands next, calloused over where the heat of the transmission tower burned the skin. There is no pretext for needing to tend to them any longer, no antiseptic or ointment or gauze. Aemond nods somberly at your palms, as if he isn’t entirely happy to pronounce them cured. His hands linger on yours for slow, unnecessary seconds.

“So what are we going to do special for my birthday?” Aegon presses eagerly.

“We’re going to walk between ten and twenty miles towards California,” Baela says.

“That’s not a birthday activity!”

Daeron groans as he inspects the screws and bolts of his compound bow. “Aegon, it’s not your birthday!”

“Shut up. You can’t even apply to get a credit card.”

“No one can get a credit card now! Currency is worthless!”

Rio offers you a cherries and cream soda. You take it and say: “Aegon, how old are you? On today, your alleged birthday?”

He hesitates. “That’s not the important part.”

Aemond smiles as he tells you, mock-whispering: “He’s thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Rio exclaims. “That’s like, an actual adult age. Marriage and a mortgage, shit like that. What were you doing before everything went insane?”

Aegon gestures vaguely. “I was considering a number of opportunities.”

“He was living on my couch,” Aemond says.

Rio shakes his head, grinning. “No job? No school? No nothing?”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I played a lot of golf.”

“He was totally doing nothing,” Jace says. “I was in my third year of law school at Harvard, Baela was getting a master’s in Aeronautics and Astronautics at MIT, Rhaena just started an Anthropology PhD, Luke was getting a master’s in Screenwriting at Boston University—he was going to be very sad and very broke, but still, he had a plan—and Aegon was doing…nothing.”

“I’ve never had a real birthday party before,” Aegon tells you; and there is something in his murky blue eyes that is tremendously sad, wounded, childlike. “I might not get another chance.”

“What do you want to do?” Now people are alarmed, skittish glances and mouths open to object. You are encouraging him.

“I don’t know yet,” Aegon says. But he’s glad you bothered to ask. You can see it on his face.

It’s not until several hours later—after noon, the sun high and blazing, everyone’s unpracticed feet aching and blistering in their shoes—that Aegon experiences a revelation like the angel Gabriel appearing to the Virgin Mary or Sir Isaac Newton extrapolating gravity from an apple falling on his head. Aegon’s epiphany appears in the form of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio called Luxury Lanes. It is remarkably unluxurious, a nondescript black rectangular building with a few doors in the front, one small tinted window on each, and no other openings. To Aegon, it is an oasis in a desert.

“I want to go bowling!”

“Aegon, we’re not going bowling,” Baela says, breathing heavily but trying to hide it, her hands massaging the small of her back. Aemond is watching her worriedly. Baela is the only person not burdened with carrying any supplies beyond her hammer and shiny new Ruger—and she resisted this accommodation at first—but still, she suffers more than anyone.

“Once again, it is my birthday—”

“Aren’t bowling allies soundproofed?” Rio asks Aemond. “You know, so they don’t get noise complaints?”

“Uh, I guess so…?”

“It’s kind of a fortress, isn’t it?” Rio continues. “Not many ways in or out. We wouldn’t be seen or heard. Might be a good place to stop for the night. ”

“Yeah!” Aegon says. “Right, Aemond?”

Aemond looks at you. It takes you a moment to figure out why. “I think the bowling alley is a good idea,” you tell him. “It’ll be safe, assuming we can clear it. And Aegon can have his party.”

Aemond is skeptical. “A party?”

“Survival isn’t just about not dying. It’s also about holding onto the things that make us human.”

“Like bowling!” Rhaena says excitedly. “It’s preserving a tradition! And I used to be so good at bowling. I bowled a 250 game once.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Aegon says, still delighted to have her on his side.

“There’s a sign for a Walmart maybe half a mile up the road,” Daeron points out. “We could search it for supplies and then double back here.”

Aemond polls the audience. Everyone agrees.

Shenandoah is tiny, rural, religious, and out of the way from the major highways. The Walmart doors are chained shut with padlocks, and amazingly no one has taken that as an invitation to drive their car through them or otherwise shatter the glass yet. Rio is honored to be the first. He takes the butt of his Remington shotgun and punches through the glass of the locked doors, kicks away loose shards, whistles and shouts to lure out any zombies. A dozen of them come reeling out of the aisles and towards the doorway. Daeron shoots down most of them with his compound bow. Rio kills two with the butt of his Remington, his new favorite toy. Aegon, the birthday boy, uses his golf club to beat in the skull of a teenager who is still wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. According to her nametag, her friends and family once called her Raelynn.

Inside the Walmart, Jace and Aemond take one side of the store, you and Rio the other, doing a quick sweep to make sure you didn’t miss any undead employees or customers waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into you. And when that’s done, you begin shopping.

The shelves are probably two-thirds empty, but there are still treasures to be found. You push carts through the aisles and fill them with candles, lighters, Chef Boyardee, Doritos, canned soup, fruit snacks, tuna pouches, 5 gum, bottles of Snapple, socks and underwear, hair ties, t-shirts and shorts, Kleenex tissues, pads and tampons, toilet paper. Baela finds some cute maternity dresses. Helaena picks through the pharmacy for useful medications, Aemond shadowing her with a baseball bat in his hands and his Glock at his waist.

“Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!” Rio exclaims, tossing several boxes into your cart.

“I miss grocery stores,” Rhaena says as she climbs the shelves to get the last box of Teddy Grahams.

“I miss going to the mall and getting Auntie Anne’s pretzel nuggets,” Aegon commiserates. Then he stumbles upon the liquor aisle and his eyes light up like high beams. “Aemond!”

Aemond appears—perhaps a bit flustered—and deliberates for a while as he browses the selection, Aegon waiting anxiously, before he decides: “Since it is allegedly your birthday, you can drink tonight. And you can pick one other person to drink with you. But only one.”

“Rio,” Aegon says immediately.

“Come on!” Daeron whines.

Aegon is already putting bottles of Captain Morgan rum into a cart. “Sorry. Illegal. Underage.”

“I’ve helped you butcher countless zombies, but I can’t drink?!”

“Just Say No, as Nancy Reagan would tell an innocent child such as yourself.”

Jace strides over, sly and playful, gnawing on a Twizzler. “Aemond, were you over there rummaging through the medicine aisles again? What do you keep looking for? Condoms?”

There is an awkward silence, an extremely awkward silence. Aemond glares at Jace. Jace’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I, uh…I was definitely joking. But…congrats on the possible future sex!”

“I already checked,” Luke tells Aemond apologetically. “You know condoms were the first thing to get bought up or looted everywhere.”

“Okay, great,” Aemond says quickly, willing the conversation to be over. There is blood, hot and mortified, flaring in his cheeks. He was thinking of you, he had to be; the only other single woman here is his sister, and obviously that’s not an option.

Jace takes another bite of his Twizzler. “Just pull out, man.”

Baela, incredulous, gestures to her belly. “Because that worked out super well for us.”

“I told you to stop riding me!”

“Yeah, a whole two seconds before you impregnated me with your super-swimmer Michael Phelps sperm.”

“Please don’t make me listen to this,” Luke begs. “I’m starting to wish I really was bitten.”

“Don’t you know all the tricks to not getting someone pregnant, Aemond?” Jace says. “Wasn’t that going to be your specialty? You wanted to be a vagina doctor? So don’t you know all the mysteries of the vagina, Aemond?”

“He was going to be an OB/GYN,” Baela says, unamused.

“Really?” Rio turns to Aemond. “Why would you want to do that?”

“So he gets to look at pussies all day,” Aegon says morosely, as if heartbroken that such a path is inaccessible to him.

“That’s not why,” Aemond insists, mostly to you.

You smile. “I didn’t think so. What’s the actual reason?”

“Interns do rotations in different departments so we can figure out what we enjoy and what we’re best suited for. I knew within two days of my OB/GYN rotation that that’s where I wanted to be. Giving birth is the only life-threatening trauma that is necessary for humanity to continue. I wanted to help people get through it as safely and painlessly as possible.” Then his gaze darts to Baela. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound worse—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m very much aware. It hurts like hell, people die. Believe me, I’d be thinking about that even if you hadn’t said it. I think about it all the time.”

“I have an idea you’re not going to like.”

“What?” Baela says. Aemond nods to the nearest shopping cart. “No way. You’re not going to push me around in one of those.”

“I believe it’s an adequate solution until an alternative appears.”

She sighs. “I’ve lost my body, my career, my society, my parents…must I lose my dignity too?”

Aemond winks. “Only when you’re too tired to walk.”

“Alright, Aemond. I realize you’re under the impression that this is a favor. So thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Let me give you a favor in return.” Then Baela begins shooing everyone except you and Aemond out of the liquor aisle. “Grab anything else you want, we’re leaving in five minutes! Jace, come look at the baby clothes with me…”

When the two of you are alone, Aemond says: “I really hope that didn’t make you feel too weird. I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable about the…um…the subject matter in general. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I was trying to…I don’t know. Assume anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t already open to. Obviously I like…um…I mean, enthusiastic consent is essential, and I just…I would never try to convince anybody or…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking now. Okay?”

“Aemond, I’m fine. I didn’t think it was weird.”

“It’s a compliment,” he confesses, flushing pink again, touching his chin, perspiration gleaming at his temples.

Now you have to show interest so he knows you’re on the same page. You’ve never had to think this way before, you’ve never liked anyone enough to play the game. “So hypothetically, if someone didn’t want to get pregnant but there were no condoms, pills, etcetera…what are the options?”

He looks at you, pleasantly surprised. “Well, there’s the rhythm method. It’s not perfect, but it’s been around forever and is reasonably reliable if done correctly.”

You are only vaguely familiar. “We didn’t get a lot of sex ed down in Kentucky.”

Aemond chuckles then leans in, a mischievous curl of his lips, a craving in the crystalline river blue of his eye. He grips the shelf above your head, his arm a canopy. His voice is hushed. The front windows of the Walmart face west where the sun is setting; golden light floods in to illuminate the store. “Is your cycle regular?”

“It is, actually.” This should be embarrassing, but it’s not; it’s exhilarating. You’re imagining him seeing you, touching you, unearthing secrets you’ve never been tempted to share with anyone else.

“So if we imagine it like a circle…” He draws one on the back of your hand, invisible, mesmerizing, blue-white lightning crackling up the path of your metacarpals, wrist, ulna and radius, humerus and clavicle, descending ribs like the rungs of a ladder to jolt the sinus rhythm of your heart. “The start of your period would be Day One.”

“Okay,” you say, hypnotized as his fingerprint skates in an arc across the bumps of your knuckles.

“Ovulation doesn’t happen until around Day Fourteen. You might have noticed some increased arousal and…wetness. Clear in color, elastic consistency.”

Your eyes are trapped in his face, smooth skin, jagged scar tissue. You tease him back, stepping closer. You can hear people snickering in the next aisle as they eavesdrop. You don’t care about them, and neither does Aemond anymore. “Now that you mention it…”

“That’s nature trying to trick you into reproducing. Day Fourteen is crunch time. Once ovulation occurs, the egg is only good for up to twenty-four hours. And then the rest of the cycle you’re effectively useless, as far as making miniature humans is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re telling me people can only get pregnant one day a month?” This seems improbable. “How has the species managed to survive this long?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Aemond admits. “Depending on the health of the specimens, sperm can survive up to five days inside a woman’s body. And it’s difficult to tell exactly when ovulation occurs. So, in practice, there’s basically one week a month when you’d want to avoid a man…completing the act, if you will.” He’s still smiling, taunting, famished, imagining the same scenes you are. You know this with a categorical certainty, as if you’re reading his thoughts like stark stripes of distance on a measuring tape. “And that’s also the week when your hormones are demanding you have sex, inspiring you to make all sorts of impulsive yet extremely consequential decisions.”

“Don’t I know it,” Baela laments from the next aisle, and there is a rupture of wild giggles.

“Anyway.” Aemond lifts his finger from the back of your hand and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him as he recedes from you. “There’s a basic overview.”

“It was very educational.” You follow him out of the liquor aisle.

“I’ve used the rhythm method for years,” Rhaena says as everyone makes their way towards the front of the store with their carts. “Clearly that’s just anecdotal, so don’t think I’m officially endorsing it. When I’m in my fertile week we add condoms. Well…we used to. Back when we could get them.”

“Ugh, I hate condoms,” Baela grumbles.

“We can tell,” Aegon says.

“I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they smell…”

“They’ve never bothered me,” Rhaena says. “I don’t notice that much of a difference. And it can be fun to try different kinds.”

“Are you on drugs?” Baela whirls to you. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? I’m right, aren’t I? Condoms are awful.”

Rio gives you a cautious look, uncharacteristically reticent. He’s not going to be the one to reveal it. He doesn’t know if it’s something you’re willing to share. But if anything is going to happen with Aemond—and you want it to, already you know you want him—then it’s something you think you should be honest about. You want him to know about you. You don’t want to have to create some false version of yourself to wear like a pelt, heavy, smothering, something that will inevitably need to be taken off.

“I am regretfully not qualified to say.”

“You’ve never used condoms?” Baela asks, a bit dubious.

“I’ve never done any of it.”

Everyone freezes at the defunct checkout counters and turns to gawk at you. “No sex?” Jace says. “No nothing?”

You shrug, smiling a little self-consciously. “I made out with a guy once.”

“The Marine from Corpus Christi?” Baela asks. They’re obsessed with him, they’re convinced there’s some lore to be excavated, translated, displayed like a relic in a museum. There isn’t. Sometimes people pass in and out of your life as seamlessly as shadows or sunlight, no weight, no indentations, nothing to recall or relay. He existed and then he didn’t. He was an airplane drawing contrails in the sky that faded before the blood red fire of dusk filled the horizon.

“No. Someone from home. Just a guy, not even worth mentioning.”

“Girl, you gotta fix that, soon, pronto, like yesterday.” Jace seems genuinely horrified. “You can’t die a virgin.”

“You really can’t,” Daeron adds, and Aegon pretends to be distraught over the loss of his youngest brother’s virtue.

“That’s what I’m always telling her!” Rio says.

“Not everybody wants to have sex,” Helaena murmurs as she records today’s findings in her spider notebook.

“True,” Jace concedes. “And that is totally legit. Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Joan of Arc, Sir Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, the Jonas Brothers for a while, all great people. But Chips is not celibate by choice, correct?”

“Buddha had a wife and son,” Aemond says, preoccupied. He isn’t looking at you now, which is concerning; he’s peering down at where his hands grip his shopping cart, his brow creased with…what is that? Unease, disapproval, concern, thoughtfulness, fear?

“It’s not some big thing,” you backpedal. “I don’t have a hangup about it, I just never met a guy I liked enough, and enlisted men, they’re…well, a lot of them are taken, or cheaters, or idiots. Or all three.”

“Not to worry, Chipper.” Aegon claps a hand on your shoulder; and you aren’t sure if it is his purpose to break the tension, but he seems to have that effect regardless. “If you ever wish to be initiated into the art of lovemaking by a slightly below average and entirely unintimidating penis, I’d be thrilled to assist you. I love condoms. But in their absence, I am the king of pulling out. 100% success rate. Zero bastard children running around to my knowledge.”

“You should give Jace lessons,” Baela says.

And the last thing Aegon takes from the Walmart is a green battery-powered Toshiba CD player so he can blast to his mixtapes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Flickering candles lining the middle lane, drinks and snacks strewn across the tables, Rio’s Moonbeam propped up so it’s aimed at the disco ball still hanging from the ceiling from a time before the dead started devouring the living. Daeron is at the end of the lanes to reset the pins after each player’s turn. Helaena is keeping score in her notebook; Rhaena is currently in the lead by a massive 80 points. Aegon is wasted, dancing on a table and crunching Cool Ranch Doritos beneath his bare feet, his blonde hair flopping. Each time it’s his turn to bowl, Aegon has to roll the ball down the lane with two hands like a child. Rio, several shots deep but unable to feel much shy of half a bottle, is singing along with him to Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, but it’s really more like shouting, each sentence an off-key monstrosity that makes you laugh.

“Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!

Down a back road, blowin’ stop signs through the middle, every little farm town with you!

And this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it!

So baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”

You cleared Luxury Lanes easily; the only difficult part was figuring out how to get into the area called the pit where, in normal times, felled pins were mechanically collected and sorted. There were two former employees roaming around back there in their tattered uniforms, snarling and drooling blood. Both were rapidly neutralized.

Someone always has to be by the front doors, watching through the small tinted windows for signs of trouble, whether from zombies or living humans. Aemond is currently on guard, nursing a Snapple. According to the bottle, the flavor is called Takes 2 To Mango. You grab your own Snapple—plain and simple Lemon Tea, no charming gimmicks—and walk over to join him.

“So now I guess it’s my turn to say I hope that conversation didn’t make you feel weird.”

He smiles politely, glancing out the window. “No, I’m completely fine.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to look at me differently than you would any other girl, like I’m better than them, or worse than them, or like there’s anything wrong with me, because it really isn’t something I consider to be paramount to my identity, and people always seem to get all twisted up about it, but it’s a pretty boring story, I just…”

“You’ve never liked someone enough to take the risk. I get it. I don’t think you’re a freak or anything.”

“Okay. Good.” The next song on Aegon’s mixtape is Shaboozey’s A Bar Song. Jace is dancing with Baela, spinning her around as she giggles. With Rhaena’s coaching, Luke bowls his first strike. You rest your head on the door as you gaze up at Aemond, the phantom of a smile on your lips. “I might like you enough.”

And he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world, a plague, an infection, an apocalypse: “You’d fall in love with me.”

It hurts, of course it does, this flippant rejection. He burns you, he cuts you, he stitches you up with no anesthetic. You try not to show it. “You’re…confident.”

“No, I don’t mean because of anything specific I would do, it’s just…it’s natural to form a certain…attachment. To the first person you’re with. It leaves an impression.” Not an impression like a first judgment, superficial and swift; an impression like an imprint, a hollow, a prehistoric fossil that is preserved through eons. “That was already true before. And everything is more intense now, because life is so…” Aemond takes a while to settle on a word. “Precarious.”

You say like a challenge: “Are you still in love with the first girl you slept with?”

A shadow that ripples through his face, a flinching he tries to hide. You shouldn’t have asked. Still, you feel like you need to know, like you’ll run out of oxygen if you don’t. “I think I’ve gotten enough distance from it to realize that she wasn’t…wasn’t good for me in a lot of ways. It was an unconventional situation. But I still carry all these pieces of her around with me, yes. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Aemond,” you say gently. “Who was she?”

He is evasive, smirking. “It’s a cliché.”

“Was she a patient? That’s very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

“No. She was my professor.”

An older woman, wise and experienced and captivating and sophisticated. He’s cut you again, a blade slicing effortlessly through veins like soft butter. “Oh. From med school?”

“Undergrad.”

“You were really young,” you say, a little startled.

He nods. “I was eighteen when it started. I was this shy, insecure, friendless freshman, she was married with two kids around my age. And it was off and on, but there was never anyone else for me, she took up too much space in my head, in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe unless I knew we were okay.”

“It went on for seven years?”

This seems to stun him, hearing how much of his existence she bottled like a terrarium. “I guess so.”

Is she dead? Missing? Safe somewhere with her husband and kids? “Is she…gone?”

His gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“I was the one who killed her when she turned.”

It’s indescribably horrible; you don’t know what to say. “Aemond, I’m…I’m really sorry…”

He is abruptly nonchalant, the blue of his eye cool and dispassionate. “Look, I’m not prepared for this to be anything more than casual. And I don’t think casual is really in the cards for us. So it’s probably best to leave it alone.”

“Right,” you agree numbly, not meaning it.

“We’re headed different places, I’m going to California, you’re planning to end up in Oregon, it’s just…a bad idea to muddy the waters, I think.”

“Because I haven’t done this before.”

He shrugs ambiguously. “It’s a contributing factor.”

“Well you seemed pretty interested before you found that out, so.”

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You aren’t offending me. You’re disappointing me.”

Now Aemond is offended. “By trying to protect us?”

“No, by saying you don’t think I’m a freak when you clearly do, and by having some savior complex, or a whore-Madonna complex, or whatever’s going on in your head, it’s always such a mystery to everyone else.”

He downs the rest of his Snapple and shoves the bottle into the nearest trash can. You hear it thump against the bottom, no garbage bag. “Alright. This was fun.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of making a mistake, just like I always was.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have to teach you how to do everything,” Aemond snaps.

“I taught you how to shoot.”

“The fact that you don’t realize how wildly different those two situations are proves you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, bye. Sorry about your zombie girlfriend.”

Aemond glares at you, shocked, furious. “That was so fucking low.”

It was. You regret it. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him that. You flee to the far end of the bowling alley and sit alone at a table draped in shadows. After a while, Rio notices and ventures over to see what’s wrong, a bottle of Captain Morgan swinging from one hand. He’s tipsy now.

Rio sighs as he takes a seat beside you, reaching over to rub your back. His hands are large and indelicate; what he means to be comforting is more like getting manhandled. Sometimes he leaves bruises, but it’s not his fault. Nature gave Rio the body of a killer. If anyone is going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it’s him. “What’s going on, Chips?”

Your voice breaks as you say it; tears sting in your eyes. “I hate caring about people.”

He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, it’s the worst, isn’t it? But once in a while it works out.”

“Bryan.”

And now he knows you’re serious. You have his full attention, large dark eyes fixed on your face, lines etching into his brow beneath the artificial starlight of the disco ball. “What are you asking me?”

“We can’t leave them and walk to the West Coast ourselves, can we?”

“I mean, technically we could, but it would be really stupid. Everything’s so much easier with ten people. And also I think I’d have to kidnap Aegon and take him with us, I love that little dude. Why? Do you really want to leave them?”

“No.”

“I figured.” He offers you the half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Come on. It’ll take the edge off.”

You look at him. Rio looks back, smiling now.

“I’ll watch out for you,” he says. “And if you get bit I’ll shoot you dead, no hesitation, swear to God. I remember our promise. I won’t let you die alone.”

“You’re a good guy.”

“I know.” He nudges your arm with the bottle of Captain Morgan. “A few swigs won’t hurt. It’ll help you sleep.”

You take the bottle, twist off the cap, drink down amber-gold poison that burns like gasoline, like fire.

[ivystoryweaver]

🦸🏽ANYTHING on spectre marc after readers death please and thank you i am prepared for pain🫡

You burrowed in to the dark parts - the broken, unlovable parts and made him your home. You dwelled, willingly, in the dejected, despondent substance of his soul. A soulmate.

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!reader (from my fic Spectre), but can be read on its own Word Count: 430 Content: angst, major character death…maybe?

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

There's a part of Marc that feels more...right when he loses. When he hurts.

See, he knows how deeply flawed he is - certain he doesn't actually deserve love.

This is because he robbed his mother of Randall's love - of her ability to actually love at all.

He destroyed his once happy family

Violence and isolation followed him for the rest of his life, even after Khonshu saved him

Steven and Jake healed him to a degree, made him whole.

Then came you.

But he knew, he always knew that forever with you would exist slightly out of his grasp - there was no way someone as good as you could ever really be his, not eternally.

Still, you loved him so hard, and so good. You burrowed in to the dark parts - the broken, unlovable parts and made him your home. You dwelled, willingly, in the dejected, despondent substance of his soul. A soulmate.

You weren’t there to fix him - you wanted him just how he was, even when he withdrew, when he pushed you away or pulled back. You ebbed and flowed right along with him. He learned to grow with the fluidity of your love.

And god, he adored you. He lived for you. He moved back to the States for you, happily. He cozied up to nosy, small town residents because it made you feel at home. Every time you felt homey or happy or at peace, he felt like he was stacking a building block, restoring the family and the home he once obliterated.

Marriage terrified him. But for you, he wanted to. He saved. He bought you a ring. He almost let himself believe he could have you as a wife.

And right when he thought of how he might propose…when he allowed his dreams to take root in a shred of reality…

…your light was extinguished from the universe.

For no reason at all, you died*. You left.

You didn’t mean to. It wasn’t your fault.

On the day after he buried you, Marc sat down on the floor, in the middle of your bedroom and felt…normal.

He felt the way he’d always been expecting to feel.

This was his life. This was all he would ever have. Ever deserve.

It felt more right to lose. To hurt.

Except...he had begun to believe life with you was more right.

He suddenly had a soul he shared - a mended heart. And a lifetime of love, with no one to give it to.

And that was the moment his heart truly broke.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Ask me anything. Requests are open!

Marc Spector-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

My Fic Masterlist

*Spectre readers know what actually happened here! 😉

[misshoneyimhome]

i love the willy kick you’ve been on but can you do an auston enemies to lovers? maybe she’s will’s best friend in it too?

I can always do something with Auston, bb 😉❤️ And of course, as always, I got a bit carried away - I mean, how can you not love this handsome face 😍

Word count: 4.3K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way

"Ugh, he's just so annoying..." you muttered quietly as you entered Willy’s apartment, returning to his place after a casual dinner with the team.

"Come on, y/n, you have to find a way to be around Auston. He's one of my best friends, and since you're one too, I want you two to get along."

**

For months, William had been trying to build a connection between you and Auston. 

Having just moved to Toronto six months ago, your childhood friend William Nylander had been so kind to introduce you to the city. You had happily accepted a new job opportunity, and within a few weeks, Willy messaged you on Instagram after seeing your post about the move.

As children, William had always been one of your closest friends, but due to his moving around, it was sometimes challenging to meet up. However, thanks to social media, you both managed to stay updated about each other's lives.

And as your old friendship quickly rekindled, returning to its comfortable roots, you swiftly became best friends again.

Soon after spending quite the amount of time together, William had introduced you not only to his closest friends but also to the entire team. However, there was a catch – Although your heart might belong to another team, Toronto had to earn a soft spot as this was your new home.

Fortunately, you clicked well with everyone on the team, including their significant others. Yet, for some reason, Auston had irked you from the moment you met him.

He hadn't particularly done anything against you, but it was his smug expressions and comments about your sudden switch in team loyalty just to impress Willy that grated on you. Then, he had the nerve to suggest that you wanted to cosy up to your "so called" best friends to gain entry into the NHL world and snag hockey tickets.

"Probably just to boost followers on her Instagram," he quipped one evening, speaking low enough for only a few people to catch, yet loud enough for you to hear.

However, your intentions were far from that. Fame or social media followers were nowhere near your goals. All you wanted was to spend more time with Willy, and since you loved watching hockey, you were more than willing to pay for your own tickets.

So, from that moment on, every time Auston was around, you saw red. He exuded excessive confidence and an overall air of being too much. Sure, he was a star player on the team, but he wasn't constantly on top form. He had his off days, yet he was terrible at owning up to his mistakes.

To say the least, your thoughts about Auston weren't exactly positive, and his opinions about you weren't any better.

In his eyes, you were plain and uninteresting. A workaholic who seemed to indulge excessively on weekends, not holding back when it came to alcohol. He observed you flirting with almost every guy when out, and your perpetually upbeat and positive attitude was just too sickeningly cute for his taste.

The only reason he put up with being around you was because he recognised how much you meant to Willy and what a good friend you were to him. That, he could respect.

**

"I can be around him, Willy - I just prefer not to," you quipped, as the two of you headed first to the kitchen to grab a few snacks before settling on the sofa after a long walk with Pablo and Banksy.

"I mean it, y/n/n, I want you two to get along," William sighed lightly, though his friendly smile remained.

"I know, but we just... don't," you attempted to flash a sweet smile as you conveyed your feelings to William. "I can't put my finger on it... maybe it's his terrible moustache that he's always so damn proud of..."

"He's a Movember ambassador..."

"Well, he doesn't limit it to just November," you replied, a hint of disgust in your expression and a sigh. "He's simply not my cup of tea, and I'm definitely not his either."

William regarded you with a thoughtful expression, slowly coming to terms with the idea that the relationship between you and Auston might not improve, although a part of him thought otherwise.

"You know, you two are actually more alike than you think," he chuckled, trying to gently nudge you out of your comfort zone.

"Oh really?" You retorted with a light huff. "And how exactly am I similar to that self-absorbed so-called hockey star?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for starters, you're both incredibly stubborn," William laughed heartily, a point you begrudgingly had to admit he might be right about. "And secondly, you're both insanely passionate about what you do. And you both care about your family and friends..." He continued softly, meeting your gaze as his words began to ease your tense demeanour. "Come on, Auston's a really great guy once you get past that tough exterior of his, and you're a wonderful person too - he just needs to see it. Then, I think the two of you could actually become pretty good friends."

William genuinely believed in what he said, but he was gradually growing tired of the ongoing friction between you and Auston. So, he made an effort to establish some sort of connection.

"Alright," he sighed deeply. "I suppose I can give him another chance..."

"That's all I'm asking for," William chuckled lightly before both of you diverted the conversation and turned your attention to the TV show you had planned to watch.

**

A couple of days later, you found yourself back in your usual spot at the Scotia Bank Arena, where the Leafs were facing off against the Senators.

Despite your efforts over the past 48 hours to shift your thoughts about Auston, making an attempt for the sake of your best friend William, as the players were announced and his prominent face appeared on the large screens, applauded for his talent, you couldn't help but feel a knot of discomfort within you.

"Fucking twat," you muttered under your breath, fortunately unnoticed by anyone around.

However, as the game began, you shook your head, attempting to push away any negative thoughts about him. You concluded that he wasn't worth your energy and mental space, but avoiding thoughts of him was easier said than done. After all, you were at a hockey game where he played, and his number was frequently mentioned.

Nonetheless, you did your best to ignore it and enjoy the company of other fans, including girls and families supporting the players. The arena reverberated with cheers and excitement as both teams alternated in scoring and taking the lead, making the match almost unbearably intense to watch.

During the third period, the score stood at 4-4, and with just three minutes remaining, if nothing changed, the game would head into overtime.

Your pulse raced alongside your quickened heartbeat as your eyes fervently tracked the play. And just before the buzzer sounded, number 34 skilfully manoeuvred the puck around the skates of two Senators and swiftly shot it under the goalie's pads, concluding the match with a 5-4 win for the Leafs. Which also secured him a hatty for the game.

"Of course," you thought, lightly shaking your head as the entire arena erupted with cheers and excitement, loud applause echoing through the air, and hats being thrown onto the ice.

Following the game, everyone gathered outside the locker room, waiting for the players to finish showering, attending to media commitments, and celebrations, where Auston was naturally announced as the player of the match.

You were engaged in conversation with some of the girlfriends as the players gradually exited the dressing room. And as one of the last to emerge, you patiently waited for Willy.

"Hey," he greeted, approaching you with damp hair, dressed in his post-game outfit. "I thought you had a date tonight?"

"Oh yeah, but we rescheduled since he had to cancel," you replied with a sweet smile and a light shrug.

"You didn't ditch him, did you?" William chuckled.

"What, no, he just cancelled on me. So, I chose to come here and offer my support to my best friend and his team," you playfully responded with a light smirk.

"Alright, well, I just need to finish up some things with Brad, then maybe we can go out for a late-night snack?" William suggested.

"Sure," you said with a friendly smile as William began to walk away. However, your smile quickly faded as a certain Arizona lad playfully joined your personal space, prompting you to turn and face him. 

"Already tired of your new victim, y/n?" Auston's voice was filled with his signature confidence, clearly relishing the moment, especially after tonight's game.

"What's that supposed to mean, Auston?" Your tone was sharp and fierce as the tall lad stepped in closer to you.

"Well, just seems like you've been through every eligible bachelor in Toronto, and nobody seems to be good enough for you," a smug grin stretched across his tanned face, his ridiculous moustache curving along his lip.

"I haven't been through every bachelor in Toronto..." you retorted defensively. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with having standards - I mean, at least I'm not like you, poking into every available cunt you can find."

Your words seemed to hit a nerve with Auston, yet he responded with a dismissive huff and a chuckle, brushing off your comment.

"At least I'm getting some action - maybe you could use some too," his chuckle was cocky, and you couldn't help but express a disgusted look.

"Well, I'm sorry I don't sleep around like you do and actually prefer to be with someone I genuinely like," you retorted, matching his smug attitude. Though you knew it wasn't entirely true; you were open to casual hook up now and then, but you did prefer to get to know a person a bit before getting intimate. 

"I'm just saying it might be good for you," Auston chuckled. "Besides, didn't you just get dumped last year? I mean, you should be out there, playing the field after ending a relationship."

"I didn't get dumped! And how do you even know about that?" you retorted sharply.

"Willy mentioned it a while ago," Auston replied with a smile.

"Hmm, well, yes, I... we broke up, but that doesn't mean I've given up, you know," you huffed gently, almost desperate to make a point. You understood Auston wasn't the most romantic person, and his confident, boyish manner shouldn't make you believe that all men were like him. "And I especially don't need to go around sleeping with everyone."

You crossed your arms defensively, fixing him with an intense gaze.

However, your stern comment only made Auston chuckle even more. "Whatever, still think it'd be good for you."

And as if on cue, William returned from his chat with Brad, and Auston quickly walked away after nodding to his teammate.

"Hey, you ready?" William asked with a friendly smile.

"Yeah, I'm all set," you replied with a smile, though your attempt to contain your annoyance wasn't entirely successful.

"What was that all about?" He chuckled a little.

"Oh, nothing," you gently rolled your eyes. "Just Auston being Auston."

Knowing you well enough, William merely chuckled and let the matter drop.

**

The following Sunday, you found yourself feeling freezing, sitting outside on a bench and waiting.

Your date had been rescheduled, and now you were impatiently enduring the cold while waiting for him to show up by the outdoor ice-skating rink the city. The first 20 minutes were bearable; you assumed he was just running late. But after 40 minutes with no replies to your messages and no sign of him, you started feeling rather foolish.

This turn of events caught you off guard. Based on your last two dates, everything had seemed to go smoothly, and you'd been texting each other every day for weeks. However, suddenly, for some unknown reason, he appeared to have lost interest in you.

But you wanted to maintain some semblance of dignity, to believe that he had a valid excuse, and that something unexpected had caused this delay. However, you also didn't want to be too naive. And after an hour had passed, you realised it was time to leave. It wasn't a mere mistake about the time; he had indeed stood you up and ghosted you.

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a familiar voice spoke from behind as you stood up from your seat.

"Still waiting for your knight in shining armour?"

It was Auston. Of course, HE was here. And he'd spotted you.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself as you slowly turned around to face the last person you wanted to see right now.

"And what are you doing here?" you flashed him an unsatisfied grin, letting out a deep sigh.

"I was just ice skating with some friends," he simply replied, one hand tucked comfortably in his pocket to keep warm, while the other held his pair of skates. "So, are you here alone?"

"Why do you care, Auston?" your tone softened, yet it held a deep, sharp edge.

"Just noticed you were sitting all alone from across the rink..." he spoke almost gently, taking another step towards you, a smirk still on his face.

"And what? So, you thought I was looking pathetic, and you decided to come over here with your smug face and revel in the fact that I'd been stood up? Well, I'm sorry Auston, but I'm not in the mood for your annoying comments right now," you said sarcastically, feeling your tone might be a bit more aggressive than intended. However, you couldn't seem to control yourself at this moment. It turned out you were more hurt than you initially thought.

"What... no, y/n, I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd been stood up," Auston spoke, his smirk slowly fading as he noticed the genuine sadness and disappointment on your face. "Honestly, I didn't even know you were on a date; it was just a joke."

Your eyes met his, and you found yourself unable to respond immediately. While slowly, you felt tears starting to well up, but you tried your best to hold them back and not let it show. 

"I'm sorry..." you said. "I just didn’t find it particularly funny..." Your arms crossed over your chest, not defensively but more as a way to comfort yourself, as a tear trickling down your cheek, and your heart heavy with disappointment.

Auston's expression had also completely changed. He seemed almost... concerned about you?

In that moment, Auston found himself genuinely impacted by seeing you so vulnerable. You were completely exposed emotionally, and he felt a sense of empathy for you, being treated in such a manner. While you might not have been his favourite person, he also didn't believe you deserved to be treated this way. And it stirred an unexpected urge in him to offer you comfort.

So, without overthinking it, he found himself speaking up.

"Do you want to skate together?"

His words surprised both you and himself. You never expected Auston to ask you to spend time with him, let alone attempt to console you in an emotional situation.

Baffled, you stood there, still in your skates, amidst the cheerful sounds of people skating and having fun around you. You simply stared at the man before you, shaking your head gently, trying to gather your thoughts to respond.

"What?"

Auston chuckled lightly, realising the surprising nature of his question. Yet, a sense of warmth grew within him as he contemplated trying to uplift your spirits.

"I asked, do you want to skate together?"

Though still slightly baffled, you regarded him with a curious look.

"I thought you were here with your friends?"

"I am," he flashed a smile. "But they have each other – you, on the other hand, seem like you could use some company."

You weren't entirely certain what to make of this situation. Was Auston joking? Was he playing around or something?

But oddly, he seemed genuine.

"Why... would you do that?" you inquired, a curious smile forming on your lips, prompting Auston to release a soft sigh.

"Well… maybe Willy has asked me to be a little nicer to you… and, since he's my best friend, and hanging out with him also means being around you from time to time, I figured…" Auston shrugged lightly before continuing, "Maybe I can, I don't know, try and get to know you a little bit better. And since you're all alone, why not now."

You found yourself holding your breath momentarily, contemplating his words. Yet, as you observed him, his smirk faded, gently licking his lips and replaced by a soft smile on his face.

"Alright," you replied softly, meeting his gaze as your eyes reflected the city lights around the rink. “But only if you promise me one thing…”

"Which is?" 

"You won't laugh at me skating…" you timidly requested, a hint of embarrassment colouring your cheeks.

"Why would I laugh?" Auston gently smiled.

"I'm good at skating, but I'm also rather clumsy," you admitted, a small smile forming on your lips, and Auston simply replied with a casual chuckle.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you if you fall then."

After putting on his skates as well, both of you headed onto the ice together with soft laughter. And surprisingly, Auston turned out to be excellent company.

Surely, at first, it was a bit awkward. Breaking the tension that had built up over months between you wasn't easy. But gradually, as you continued skating side by side, the atmosphere lightened. William was, of course, the primary topic of your conversation, as he was your strongest common link. However, the conversation then gradually shifted to hockey – what you both liked and disliked about the sport. And soon, you found yourselves sharing personal details, discussing your upbringing and your personal stories.

Auston even laughed when you shared childhood stories about you and Willy, talking about the times when you gave him advice about girls during your teenage years. He then reciprocated by sharing stories from their road trips and the challenges of growing up while playing in the NHL. He delved into tales about his family, highlighting how supportive they had always been, and mentioned being the protective brother and the struggles he faced in finding close friends with whom he could form genuine bonds.

And this sudden display of vulnerability started to alter your perception of him, if only slightly. As you continued gliding across the ice, maintaining your closeness, Auston began discussing how many people in his life had come and gone, primarily seeking his friendship for the sake of public recognition.

You found yourself developing a small soft spot for him as he gradually opened up, revealing a side you had never seen before, one that he probably never showed to the team or to many others. And despite having tried to maintain a distance from him, you slowly came to realise that you did, in fact, know Auston quite well. You understood that he wasn't comfortable discussing emotions or engaging in heartfelt conversations, so this talk was a significant step for him.

Eventually, both of you skated to the edge of the rink to pause for a moment, a brief silence settling between you before you decided to break it with a soft sigh.

"Is that why you said those things about me when Willy first introduced me to the team?" you looked up at him, facing each other, both resting a hand on the border. "That I only wanted to be close friends with him because of fame."

Auston understood exactly what you meant, and you were spot on. That had indeed been his initial thought about you when you re-entered the life of one of his best friends.

With a gentle nod, he softly replied, "Yes."

Another quiet moment settled between you, and it became evident what this misunderstanding had truly been about. Auston's initial desire to shield Willy from a potentially damaging friendship, and your perception of him as cocky and arrogant because of his defensive stance from the start.

Once again, your eyes locked, a bit more intensely this time, as you both felt the opportunity to break free from this tension between you.

"Well, I hope I managed to prove you wrong then," you sighed softly, offering him a sweet, friendly smile.

And Auston simply matched your expression. "You did," he replied.

With a few shared light laughs, the profound tension suddenly dissipated. And a new sensation seemed to grow between you both – perhaps even a potential friendship.

But just as everything seemed to settle into a comfortable rhythm, someone suddenly appeared out of nowhere and forcefully crashed into you, causing you to fall over and straight into Auston, who lost his footing and ended up falling backward onto his back, pulling you along with him. In the midst of the fall, you accidentally collided, your head hitting his face, resulting in both of you letting out loud yells.

"Fuck!" Auston shouted.

"Shit, Aus, are you okay?"

Your head was spinning from the adrenaline rush.

"Yeah, I think I'm good... how about you?"

"Well, I did land quite softly," you tried to offer a light chuckle, prompting Auston to do the same.

And slowly, with a bit of assistance from the stranger who had accidentally bumped into you, both of you managed to regain your footing. However, your attention snapped back to Auston as you noticed something alarming.

"Fuck, your nose is bleeding!"

Auston touched his nose, confirming that it was indeed bleeding from the collision.

"Come on, let's get out of here," you suggested, gently taking his hand as you both stepped off the ice and made your way to sit on a nearby bench.

Auston tried to lean back to prevent too much bleeding, while you gently guided him and then applied a piece of tissue to his nose. Thankfully, you had had the foresight to have a package in your pocket, though not specifically for situations like this, it turned out to be quite practical.

Sitting closely on the bench, you carefully wiped the blood off his nose, feeling a twinge of guilt despite knowing the accident wasn't your fault. And Auston's intense gaze focused on you as you attended to him.

"I guess this wasn't how you thought your date would be," he chuckled.

"Maybe not," you gently smiled back. "But despite the blood, I actually think it's been a rather fun day," you softly admitted, meeting his eyes.

Auston reciprocated your smile, feeling your gentle touch close to his face.

"He's an idiot, you know, for blowing you off like this," he gently spoke, causing you to pause and look up at him.

"Thanks, but I suppose it's just my luck… you were right, I've dated so many guys, and although I promised myself never to give up on love, it's just not always easy," you softly admitted.

"Hey, it's his loss – I mean, you're... sweet, funny, and quite good-looking, so if he doesn't want to date you, he’s the one missing out. You shouldn't feel bad about it."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah... I mean... I know I haven't always treated you nicely, but... I've always thought you were hot," Auston chuckled.

"You're not too shabby yourself," you flashed him a sweet smile, eliciting another laugh from him. 

As you sat closely together amidst the vibrant winter wonderland in the heart of Toronto, both of you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection.

It felt odd.

It was as if all previous tension had vanished. You were now just two individuals, engaged in pleasant conversation, enjoying each other's company.

And Auston finally understood what William saw in you. He had never felt this comfortable opening up and expressing his thoughts to someone. No one had ever made him feel so at ease and relaxed during a heartfelt conversation like you. You were certainly something else.

But then clearing your throat, you broke the intense gaze you shared.

"Perhaps I should better get going... it's getting late, and I shouldn't be keeping you from your friends like this," you timidly suggested, looking down at your hands for a moment before beginning to unlace your skates.

With a nod, Auston followed suit, swiftly changing back into regular shoes. Standing with your skates in hand, you exchanged a sweet smile before an unexpected surge of confidence propelled you to lean in and plant a timid kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Auston... I really enjoyed spending time with you today," you softly expressed, while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You're welcome," he replied, exhaling softly. 

But then as you turned to walk away, an unexpected desire to keep you close surged within Auston. And with his free hand, he swiftly caught yours, drawing you back toward him, pressing his chest against yours before tenderly kissing your lips.

The kiss was gentle, yet both of you found yourselves leaning slightly into it. Auston dropped his skates, using his hand to cup your face, holding you just a little closer, before slowly pulling apart.

You exhaled deeply, confusion mingling with a pleasant sensation, ultimately giving way to a smile.

"So, I guess this means we're good?" you tentatively joked.

"Yeah... and the next date you're going on will be with me," Auston stated firmly, wearing a wide grin.

"God, you're way too confident," you teased, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

"Maybe, but I know you like it," he countered, raising an eyebrow before leaning in to connect your lips once again.

[jerzwriter]

A Different Fate - Final Chapter

OMG, it took me entirely too long to complete this, but I'm so happy now that it's done! I am so, so grateful to the anonymous (to you, not to me 😉) donor to the Write for Gaza project, who requested I finish this by the end of January. Well - I did it! And thank you so, so much - I can't tell you how much it means!

A Different Fate - Series Masterlist

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (past)

Featuring: Tobias Carrick, Sienna Trinh

Rating: Teen

Words: 3,700

Category: Short-Series/AU/Lost Love

Summary: Ethan's first attempt to talk to Casey didn't work out, but now, with Tobias & Sienna's help, will it finally work out? Or will they have to resign and accept their fate?

A/N: When I started this, it was supposed to be a one-off, and now, I'm finally done after 5 parts! It's funny how these things take on a life of their own. I know a few of you have been very anxious for this to post, and I thank you for your extraordinary patience. I hope you find it's worth it in the end! @choicesjanuary2024 Day 23 - Hope Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist | My Full Masterlist

The bus jolted forward the moment the light turned green, jostling its passengers around like dolls—every passenger except for Sienna Trinh. Growing increasingly impatient with her “charge,” she sat firmly in place, arms crossed defiantly before her chest.  

“This is a stupid idea!” She said, slapping a startled Ethan’s arm across the bus aisle.

“Oww!”

“Don’t oww, me!” She fired back. “You blew my advice off yesterday, and look how well that went. Maybe you should listen to me now.”

“I know,” Ethan droned. “But this is different.”

“Si, I have to agree with Ethan on this one,” Tobias said, his face twisting as he realized his words. “Shit! It hurt more than I expected to say that.”

“Thanks, pal.”

“Don’t mention it,” Tobias smirked. “Si, he can’t do this right now. He’d have to ambush her at work, and you see how well that went. We have a plan in place; it will be fine.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, but I’m done tempting fate with these two. Something always goes wrong.”  

“Look, the bonehead has put it off eight years. It can wait another eight hours to ensure it’s done right.”

“You know,” Ethan interrupted, “it might be helpful if the two of you wouldn’t talk about me like I wasn’t here.”

Sienna turned to him, brow raised. “It would be great if you didn’t need the two of us here to make sure you don’t blow it!”

“She makes a point,” Tobias nodded, pleased with Ethan’s exasperation.

“Can we stick to the point?”

“The point is, you’ll speak to Kaycee tonight.”

“Yeah, after your date,” Ethan chuckled ruefully. “

“It’s not a date!” Tobias spat. “You know damn well I’m just going to the party with her to get that asshole Douglas off her back.”  

Ethan shot a half-doubtful look.

“Really?” Tobias said incredulously. “I’ve been rooting for you two since she left Boston, and this is how you treat me? Trust me, Ramsey, all Kaycee wants is you, and the last thing I’d ever want is to have you as a metamour.”

Sienna’s nose scrunched. “A meta-what?”

Tobias waved her off with a chuckle. “Trust me, Si, you’re better off not knowing. Now, stop worrying. I’ll take Kaycee to the party, give the creepy doctor a few death stares, and after a drink or two, I’ll mention you’re in town, play wingman, then you swoop in for the grand finale. We’ve got it under control.”

“Yeah,” Sienna rolled her eyes. “With you two at the wheel, what could possibly go wrong?”

~~~~~

“I’m coming!” Kaycee clumsily rushed across her apartment to answer the door, slipping into her silver heels along the way. She opened the door breathless but stunning nevertheless. “Hey,” she smiled.

A grin spread across Tobias’s face; he had forgotten how well Dr. MacClennan cleaned up. With her long blonde curls cascading over her shoulder, barely skimming the bodice of her strapless ice-blue gown, she looked more like someone who spent her day posing for Vogue than saving lives in scrubs.

“What do you think?” she grinned.

“What do I think? If this is how you look for a fake date, what the hell do you do on real ones? How many heart attacks have you been responsible for, MacClennan?” 

“Shit!” She said with a stomp of her foot. “I screwed up! I shouldn’t have brought you tonight!”

“Oh, why?”

“I should have invited Dr. Douglas himself! If I knew cardiac arrest would be the result, well, that would be one way to be rid of him.”

Tobias burst out laughing. “I forgot just how wicked you could be.”

Slipping an earring in, she winked. “I’d feel guilty about it ten minutes later. Not guilty enough to start CPR, but guilty all the same."

"Well, I'm happy to provide a less lethal way of getting rid of Dr. Jackass.”

She grabbed her clutch off the side table and looked at Tobias, casually leaning against the door.   She swore he hadn’t aged a day, still wearing that signature confident swagger as well as he wore his dark, tailor-made suit. She crossed her arms and shook her head disapprovingly.

“What?” He asked, checking his attire to see if something was wrong. “Do I not clean up as well as you?”

“Too well. If word gets out that I’m dating you, no one will ask me out again. They’d be afraid of the competition.”

He chuckled softly, visions of Ethan in his mind. “Well, let’s hope it won’t come to that.”

Stepping to Kaycee’s side, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go!”

~~~~~

The party was exactly what one would expect to cap off the career of a renowned doctor from one of the top hospitals in the world. The rooftop ballroom’s floor-to-ceiling windows provided a panoramic view of the City’s famed skyline; fairy lights scattered throughout the room illuminated it with an ethereal glow. Warm notes from the piano wafted through the air, competing with the gentle hum of convivial chatter as tuxedoed waiters distributed flutes of  Dom Perignon. Tobias and Kaycee were on a mission and played the part of an enamored new couple so well that they earned envious stares, not only from Dr. Douglas but from several others as well. But as much fun as that was, Tobias couldn’t get his mind off his primary goal of the night: getting Ethan and Kaycee together. He looked at his watch. She only wanted to stay two hours, and they were about to hit that mark.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Wanna take a spin around the dancefloor before we blow this joint? Make this look legit?”

Wordlessly placing her empty champagne flute on a passing waiter's tray, she took Tobias’s hand and led him to the dancefloor. Ironically, finding the most privacy they’d had all night. 

“Dancing was a good idea,” she said. “Everyone knows I wouldn’t leave a party without dancing... and it’s not like you’re a stick in the mud that would refuse me.”

“Kacyee, it would be difficult for anyone to refuse you.”

“Yeah,” she smiled sadly, “You’d be surprised.”

“I don’t know about that. For Christ's sake, you used to get Ramsey to dance back in the day. I thought only an act of God could accomplish that!”

Kaycee’s body tensed, and her feet seemed to forget what they were supposed to do. As she stood still on the dance floor, Tobias looked her in the eye.

“I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

Kaycee shook her head and continued to dance. “It’s been so nice seeing you, but it takes me back, and sometimes, that can be hard, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. It takes me back, too, but is that such a bad thing? We had some good times.”

“Ha! It all depends,” she chuckled. “Do you have a time machine? Because I’d be happy to go back, but only if I could write a different fate.”   

“I can’t do that,” he sighed. “Not the time machine part, but... maybe I can help with the different fate.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Follow me.”

Kaycee remained silent as they ran down the plushly carpeted hall. But, when they found an empty banquet room, she wanted answers.

“OK, we’re alone now. What’s going on?”

“I want to talk to you about Ethan.”

Kaycee shook her head, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.   

“We did that. We had that conversation at dinner the other night. We don’t need to do it again.”

“Did we have that conversation? Because as far as I remember, I didn’t tell you that he was here.”

“He’s what? He’s here... like in New York?”

“I’ll do one better,” he smiled. “He’s sitting at the bar in the lobby.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Tobias wasn’t sure if he saw shock or anger flickering in them.

“You told me he was in Boston. You said he refused to come with you!”

“He was. Or at least I thought he was. But when I got to my hotel that night, he was there.”

She crossed her arms smugly. “So he came to attend the conference. Right?”

“Nope. He didn’t come for the conference. He came here for you.”

“For me?” Her voice cracked. “He came here for me. Yet he’s been in town for two days and hasn’t reached out to me once.”

“Well... about that. He did. He stopped by Langone yesterday and sort of heard you tell Dr. Douglass that you had a thing... for me.”

Kaycee felt her stomach drop. “No!”

“Yes.”

“No, no, no, no! He doesn’t really think I want you, does he?”

“Hey, don’t act so disgusted!” Tobias said defensively. “Believe it or not, most people would kill to get with this... but Ethan knows you’re not one of them. I can’t give you a time machine, but you can give yourself a second chance.”

She remained silent, her heart beating faster as she stared out the window into the night.

“Tobias, it’s taken me eight years to say his name without crying. To recall our time together and feel whistful, not just sad. I’m content with my life here, and if I open that door and it slams shut once again... I don’t know that I could take it.”

“Kaycee, you’re right. Eight years have passed, and a lot has changed. Like you – you’re not a young, wide-eyed resident anymore. You have a brilliant career that can only be attributed to one thing – and that’s you. No one could dare say you made it because you were involved with him. You love each other. Why keep denying it.”

“He loves me?” She asked. “He used those exact words.”

“Well, he didn’t actually say the words, but... why would he say them to me? Why don’t you give him a chance... to say them to you?”  

“But Tobias,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “What if... what if it doesn’t work?”

“But Kaycee... what if it does?”

~~~~~

Boston and Philadelphia had skyscrapers for sure, but neither city could hold a candle to New York, and right now, Kaycee couldn't be more grateful to the town she now called home. Sixty-eight floors, she thought, taking a tentative step into the elevator. Sixty-eight floors stood between her and the lobby, and she hoped they’d stop at each one.

Standing in the back corner, she relied on the walls to keep her upright as passengers piled in. She needed time. Time to think, to decide what she’d say, to breathe.... sixty-eight floors should have given her the time she needed to center and gain a semblance of composure. But it went by in an instant, and when the elevator doors began sliding over, all she could do was watch in horror.

Her head was spinning, and her mind was lost in a cloud of confusion. Ethan was waiting in the lobby... for her? It couldn’t be real. Tourists and locals alike chatted happily about their evening plans as they stepped out, a direct contrast to Kacyee, who stood frozen in fear. Only the elevator operator’s gruff voice brought her back to reality.

“Ma’am, are you getting out?”

She turned to him, then back to the door, and considered returning to the grand ballroom. But something inside her stirred. Tobias was right; she was no longer playing the part of the ingenue, filled with hope and naivete that were somehow both her greatest strength and weakness. No, she was a big girl now, and whatever happened when she walked through that door... she’d be able to handle it.  

“Ma’am," the man repeated with increased irritation. “Shall I close the doors?"

“Uhm. No," she said, standing upright and dusting off the front of her gown. “No. I’m getting off here.”

The world seemed to move in slow motion as she stepped into the lobby. If this were a movie, Ethan would be waiting across a crowded room, their eyes would meet in an instant, and the credits would roll as soon as they shared a perfect kiss, one that left no doubt that they were destined for happily ever after. But real life seldom ran so smoothly, as Kaycee was about to confirm. She looked all around, to the left and the right, but no sign of him. She walked the perimeter of the room, even just outside, and still... nothing. Tobias said Ethan would be at the bar, so she returned and hopped on a stool to wait and wait. She was patient at first, but five minutes passed, then ten. Her fingers began to rap against the rich mahogany countertop when it reached fifteen, and by twenty? By twenty, she had enough.

Standing up with a weary sigh, she chastised herself for opening that door even a crack. You should have learned by now, she thought as she headed toward the exit. She was almost outside when she saw Tobias coming off the elevator. She turned on her high heel and headed his way. Why lambast herself if she could lambast him? He didn’t see her coming and reacted with surprise when he felt the shove on his shoulder.

 “He’s here, huh? He’s waiting for me at the bar? Well, guess what? He didn’t show!”

“Kaycee,” Tobia started, but she wouldn’t allow him to speak.

“No! Don’t Kaycee me! This is precisely l why I didn’t want to get my hopes up! This is how it always ends with us... either he walks away, or he doesn’t show... and I swore I wouldn’t put myself in this position again!”

“Kayce, if you’d just let me....”

“NO! No, I don’t want to hear what you have to say because all that matters is that he’s not here! He’s not here, and....”

Her breath hitched when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Is that....” she whispered.

“You know,” Tobias smirked. “You might want to turn around.”

She turned around slowly, and just like that, life was imitating art. A feeling of warmth surrounded her the moment their eyes met. He may have aged a little, but she’d know him... she’d know those eyes... anywhere.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, handing her a single red rose. “I stepped out to buy this from a street vendor. I thought it would be a nice touch.”

With her heart racing, she lifted the flower to her nose and inhaled its fragrant scent.

“And that took twenty minutes?” she grinned, putting Ethan at ease.

“Well, I also needed to go to the men's room. It took more than one glass of Scotch to get up the nerve to offer you an apology that could make up for eight years.”

“Ethan,” she whispered, at a loss for words.

“Well, this is the shittiest rose ceremony I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had to suffer through many an episode of The Bachelor,” Tobias observed. He pat Ethan on the back. “Nice touch, a little cheesy, but not bad for you.”

“You can go now,” Ethan grumbled.

“I was planning on it,” Tobias nodded at Kaycee, then looked Ethan in the eye. “You two can take it from here. Don’t fuck this up.”

“Can we?” Kaycee asked once Tobias was gone. “Can we take it from here, or will one of us mess it up somehow?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he smiled. “Why don’t we go someplace and talk.”

~~~~~

She couldn’t remember leaving the hotel lobby or how they decided where they would walk. All she knew was they ended up strolling along Central Park West, a comfortable distance between them, as she chattered aimlessly about nothing at all. Anything to avoid an awkward silence or, worse yet, an awkward conversation. While Kaycee faced straight ahead, Ethan couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, perhaps even more so. He was afraid if he took his eyes away, she’d disappear, and he wouldn’t allow that. Then, even in the dim streetlights, he saw her starting to shiver, and without missing a beat, he removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, bringing her to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a half step back. “You looked cold.”

“Yes,” she smiled nervously. “It is... it is getting cold.” She motioned to a food truck on the edge of the street and smiled. “I’d suggest we get coffee to warm up, but I know that wouldn’t meet your standards.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked. “Go. Go sit on that bench, and I’ll get us some.”

“You’re going to drink coffee... from a food truck?”

Ethan shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have to start living a little sometime. Tonight sounds like the perfect time to start.”

He walked away, and Kaycee hollered after him. “Wait, you didn’t ask how I wanted my coffee."

He turned around with his hands in his pockets and utter confidence. “At this hour? Decaff. Definitely, decaff with a splash of milk, preferably almond, but if they don’t have that, plain milk will do. And Splenda, two Splenda... even though you know they’re not good for you.”

A slow smile spread across Kaycee’s lips. “You... remember.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I remember everything.”

“Well, I take three Splenda now,” she winked, and he felt his heart flutter.

“Go sit,” he smiled, and she all but skipped away.

She watched his silhouette in the ethereal light, still attempting to convince herself this was real. But she had to believe it was true when she felt the steaming hot cup in her hand. She watched with anticipation as Ethan took a sip from his cup and couldn’t help but laugh when he tried to contain a grimace.  

“Oh, it’s funny,” he smiled. “Do you enjoy watching me suffer?”

“No,” she whispered, gently taking his hand and placing her coffee on the bench beside her. “No, I think we’ve both suffered plenty, and I don’t want either of us to suffer anymore.”  

The touch of her hand impacted him more than he could have imagined, and he found himself unable to speak. He turned to her with tears in his eyes, just managing to mutter her name before pulling her into a tight embrace. Kaycee buried her face in his shoulder, taking in the warm, familiar scent she used to know so well. One of Ethan’s hands was entangled in her curls, while his other arm pulled her as close as he possibly could. They stayed there a long while, silent and amazed at the reality – both had assumed if this day were ever to come, it would be filled with fireworks. An explosion of passion that couldn’t be felt miles away. But the reality was different. It was warm, safe, comforting, a loving embrace each had desired for so long – it wasn’t fireworks, it was coming home.  

“I can’t believe you’re here,” her voice cracked. “I can’t believe you’re in my arms.”

“I’m trying to believe it myself,” he said, pulling back to gaze into her crystal blue eyes. His hand cupped her chin, his thumb tenderly stroking her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. What kind of fool am I depriving myself of seeing this face for so long?”

Kayce reached up to take his hand, gently placing a kiss on it. “Then, shall we try to rectify that now?”

“We could. If that’s what you want.”

Kaycee sat back with a smile so gentle and warm Ethan didn’t need words to know her answer. She reached up and messed up his hair. “How did we screw us up so badly? I mean, I can blame it on being young and stupid, but you didn’t have that luxury.”

Laughing, he took her hand. “You may have been young, but you were never stupid. You knew so much more than me. I know there’s no fairy godmother that will show up with a magic wand, and I know we will still have things to work out. But the thing I know most of all is that I love you. I love you with all my heart, and I’ve wasted too many years without you by my side. I’m determined to put an end to that as soon as I can.”

“You love me,” she sighed. “Well, that’s good... because I love you. I love you so much.”

Ethan reached over and embraced her, letting out a joyful groan as he lifted them to their feet. She held on tight as he spun her around, stopping to gently put her back down. They stood face-to-face, a world of memories crossing their minds as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Time and distance had done nothing to them; their love remained the same. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, lighting a flame that had flickered but never extinguished. It was more than a kiss. It was a promise, a silent vow that was a testament to their love, which had never, ever died.

“We can’t screw this up, Ethan,” she said as they broke away. “If we’re going to do this, I want this to be forever. I can’t lose you again.”

“Good!” He grinned brighter than she had ever seen. “Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ethan offered his arm, which she gladly accepted, nuzzling her head into his shoulder as they started to walk.

“So, where are we going?” She asked.

“Well, I do have a hotel room nearby.”

Kaycee playfully nudged him. “A hotel room? Mister, I have a whole apartment, and it’s quite nice! You know, your girl did all right for herself!”

“Oh, I’ve kept tabs on you. I know you did.”

“Then let’s go!”

As they walked to her apartment, they passed the café Kaycee had dined in not too long ago, and she told Ethan the story of that night. How two estranged lovers had come together, and he professed his undying love. She relayed how she was trying to listen in on their conversation, but in the end, she didn’t need to since the young man yelled it out for all to hear. The crowd applauded, and she secretly paid their bill. It was straight out of a movie.

“I’m glad you got to see that,” Ethan smiled. “You always loved a happy ending.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed. “And now, I’ve got one of my own.”

(Yep that last part was from Part 1. 😊)

Thanks so much for reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[drewharrisonwriter]

I write for any of Pedro Pascal’s Characters and for Henry Cavill. I occasionally go back to my roots and write WWE fics.

All works are 18+, minors DNI.

I write angst, romance (a little bit), and sometimes, some effed up stuff. But don't worry, detailed warnings will be indicated for each fic. If this isn't your thing, move along, please. Thank you.

If you want to request a fic, let me know what you want me to write. I don't have a formal tag list for each fic, but just leave a comment 😉

AO3 | Buy me a coffee?

✨ Lifeline (Series | In-Progress)

Summary: After basically being dropped and rejected by every PR agency in Hollywood for being such a huge liability, Dieter Bravo must work on resetting his public image in the most unexpected ways.

✨ A Better Man (One Shot | Complete)

Summary: Dieter goes back to a place he knows so well just to get a glimpse of a life he could have had.

✨ Life Well Loved (One Shot | Complete)

Dieter Bravo’s life proves that plans are overrated—and he’s never been more right about not having one.

✨ Friends Without Benefits (One Shot | Complete)

Even if you don't believe it, Dieter Bravo is actually capable of having platonic friendships.

✨One Day at a Time (Series | Complete)

Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

✨Softer (One Shot | Complete)

Summary: Marriage has been good to Joel—he’s happier, softer, and maybe a little pudgier. (For @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits on You Challenge)

✨Between the Sky & the Horizon (One Shot | Complete)

Summary: Set in a small Texas town during the 1940s, Joel Miller, a grieving widower, and father, is thrust into a marriage of convenience with the Reverend's pregnant daughter, Dorothy.

✨On the Mend (Mini-Series | Complete)

Summary: You were having a really, really bad day in the midst of the scorching Austin summer, and seeing your ex boyfriend, Joel Miller, is the last thing you need.

✨ Keeping Secrets (Currently being rewritten)

✨Benefits (One shot)

Summary: Pedro and his best friend are in a situationship. With her recent health scare, he tried to muster the courage to ask her to be exclusive.

✨Donor (Mini-Series | Complete!)

Summary: You ask (beg) your best friend, Henry to donate--sperm.

✨ Is that alright? (One shot)

Summary: You are a musical guest in The Graham Norton Show on an episode that also features your ex-boyfriend, Henry Cavill. You play your latest single that you've written when you were 18 and in love with Henry.

✨ No Ties (One shot)

Summary: You don't do commitments, and it looks like Henry may be down for it.

[crazyhickofftheirrocker]

Carmen's Double Promotion: potential migajas for Season 2 🕵‍♀️ 🧐

Absolutely rooting for nuestra capitana 🥰🥳 after being made store manager. And according to some behind the scenes pictures from when filming took place, it's definitely going to happen.

But what if this ends up introducing the main conflict of season two and puts Carmen in a more central role?

Carmen is ofc married to Tasio, who Damián is clearly trying to incorporate into the company, either to assuage his own guilt or for some other reason (maybe even to make him a scapegoat so Jesús can go fuck with someone else other than the rest of the family)

Since Jesús' true character has been revealed to much more of the family, things seem to be lining up so that it'll turn into a war between Damián and Jesus, versus the Merinos and the rest of the DLRs. No matter Damian's disgust for Jesús now, he's made his bed and will stick with him to the bitter end because it's all he knows how to do with him.

Depending on the outcome of this, I would expect that Tasio's true parentage will be revealed at the end of the season and if that has been made the focus, then Carmen is now in a very complicated and important position.

No doubt her loyalties are with Mafin and she would personally support them and the rest of the family against Jesus. But if Tasio is to take a position as one of the DLR, he will have to go along with the same bullshit his newfound siblings have put up with all their lives and he will feel he needs to prove himself. That will also conflict with her own personal principles, particularly if Fina shares with her the true reason for the Barcelona plan.

I actually don't believe season one will have a positive ending or that Jesús will be killed; in fact, he'd probably end up at worst imprisoned and somehow sneak his way out of it through financial favours or through some ruse. But it could happen in such a way that ostracises his siblings and thus takes them out of the company, leaving a vacuum for Tasio to slot into in some way. This season is probably one that gives Jesús his 'win'; to end up as sole director of the company.

So Carmen's loyalties will be tested; either she supports her husband and she's obliged to follow the agenda set by Jesús at work. Or, she turns out to be the person who keeps her ears to the ground to support the exiled DLRs (and Mafin ofc 🧁) and lays the groundwork for their return and ultimately the downfall of Jesús.

Who knows 😉?

[dont-f-with-moogles]

gosh, i'm blushing as crazy as i write this, but for your smut prompts, maybe.... 17 or 11.....

Smut Scribbles 11. “Louder. Let me hear you.” 17. “Hands behind your back.” (Tch. So greedy 😉 )

Dangerous Game (NSFW) Characters: Levi x Hange Word Count: 992 words It hadn’t happened the way that Levi had repeatedly dreamed it. In his fantasies he had always imagined his body lying beneath Hange’s, their thighs wrapped around his waist. Countless times he had conjured the sensation of their mouth on his neck; nails scraping his torso whilst, in reality, his own chest rose and fell in rapid movements. Sweat-soaked sheets had tangled about Levi’s legs as he gripped himself, convinced that his own touch was theirs; that his closed fist was actually the heat of them enfolded around him. With complete abandon his hips had pressed forward into his hand, strokes quickening as he relished the surge of pleasure which coursed through him.

A bed would have been far safer; concealed behind locked doors and spacious enough for the two of them to sprawl upon, limbs entangled. Not here, with Levi’s hands splayed against cold brick, back arched against Hange’s chest. There was hardly enough space to stand upright, what with the boxes, bottles and cleaning rags scattered all around them. A cluster of brooms stood in the corner; one misplaced elbow would send the entire array clattering down. Even Levi’s feet were planted on either side of a stack of buckets. In the corridor beyond, the sound of encroaching footsteps echoed; an unnerving reminder that several thin planks of wood nailed together were all that stood between them and the humiliation of exposure.

And yet, all of Levi’s misgivings vanished as Hange’s breath lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. Like electricity, a shiver rippled down his spine, setting every nerve alight. Hange’s lips met his ear.

“Stay just like that…”

Teeth grazed his earlobe. There came a jingle as Levi’s belt buckle knocked into the wall. Then Hange’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants. The sudden flood of heat was almost unbearable. Sweat broke out over Levi’s skin; his nerves humming. Every fibre of his being was seeking - begging - for them to tighten their grip. Even as Hange obliged, curling their fingers around his cock, Levi willed them to tease their hand downwards. He willed them not to let go. One second parted from his body would be enough to drive him to madness. Levi’s hips rolled forward of their own accord, helpless to the languid movements of Hange’s hand as it slid down.

The cupboard door rattled in its frame, startling them both.

“Shit!” Levi reached down to where his trousers were slung about his knees. The placement of Hange’s hands, one upon his wrist, the other enclosed around him, kept him rooted to the spot. There was no scraping of wood; no sudden rush of air or light spilled upon them. Perhaps another door further along the corridor had slammed, causing theirs to jolt violently. But no consolation could slow the rapid drumming of Levi’s heart. The thunder of his pulse was deafening; it would drown out the footsteps on the other side of the door. And that’s when they would be caught. It was inevitable. Levi drew in noisy, frantic breaths, desperately willing his heart to slow. 

Lips pressed at his nape. Hange’s hand began moving again and Levi’s body nearly caved in on itself. Moist palms slipped against stone. His foot knocked into the buckets. Heat exploded in the pit of his stomach, pooling like molten lava down to where Hange’s fingers were wrapped around him. Each time they pulled back sparks flew like flint on stone. Hange’s chin was buried in the crook of his shoulder, their lips brushing his jawline. A deep flush burned at their touch, trailing upwards to where their breath warmed the skin behind his ear. Levi bit his lip, breaking apart the syllables of Hange’s name. He could feel their smile; lips curving against his neck before they closed around his earlobe. Levi’s head sank into his outstretched arm, his rolled shirt sleeve muffling a low moan. 

“Don’t, Levi…” Hange’s whisper was as dark as smoke. Their teeth grazed the shell of Levi’s ear as they sucked the skin clean. Still, their hand worked him in steady, measured strokes. Only, a little quicker now that they had found their rhythm. A thrill ran up Levi’s legs as his muscles tightened. Sweat gathered at his temples, in his hairline, at the back of his neck. He was lost to the fire searing within him; helpless as sweet agony took hold and consumed him. Skin aflame, he pressed his face further into the folds of material and bit down.

Then Hange’s movements ceased altogether. Their tone dropped lower. Pitch black. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this after all?”

Levi’s body protested; his skin cried out for contact. He shifted against the wall, turning a fraction to follow their voice. Unexpectedly he felt their fingers clutch his chin, holding his head firmly in place.

“I want you to be louder, Levi. Let me hear you.” This time, when Hange’s teeth sank into his earlobe, it was not entirely playful. Levi gave a little gasp as they pulled back sharply. The sting of his flesh throbbed. “Or I’ll make you put your hands behind your back.”

Their other hand had seized both of his wrists, raising his arms over his head and pressing his hands to the wall. Levi could have easily broken the hold but a weakness had washed over his body. He was a victim to their lips, to their hot breath in his ear. Hange’s other hand slid down to grasp him once more. Hot, open-mouthed kisses branded new marks into his neck.

“H-hange…” Surrender fractured Levi’s voice. He gave in to the heat of their body against his; Hange’s hips gently grinding against him in time with their movements. A low groan escaped his throat as Levi’s head sank back against Hange’s shoulder. They were unrelenting; kissing where he longed to be kissed, touching where he needed their hand to touch, until Levi thought that his legs would give out altogether. ... (Haha, hope you liked it and don't mind that I combined the two! 🖤🖤🖤) Anyone who's enjoying these and is partial to a little not-so-safe-for-work drabble, choose from the Wheel of Prompts here! 👉 Smut Scribbles

[thana-topsy]

I get the impression that Neloth hates teaching which confuses me. I understand he doesn't care for other people but I would think he would get off on teaching novices and turning them into experts. I would love to read something where he takes a young mage just starting out and trains them until they're almost as good as him. Maybe they fall in love along the way too. 😉

Funny enough, I keep writing Neloth in situations where he's a teacher. That was actually the driving motivator behind writing a sequel to Breathing Water that sent him and Teldryn back to the College of Winterhold.

In my interpretation, it's not that he likes or dislikes teaching, but more so that it's a means to an end and he doesn't have a lot of patience for people who don't already show promise. I think a competent apprentice could even be enjoyable for him. But here's a snippet from Breathing Water if you haven't read it:

“Fire is the most unpredictable of all the elements,” Neloth continued, as if he hadn’t almost completely torched a student. “The best way to hone your skills with destruction is by practicing a pull-back – simply retracting the currents of your magicka back into yourself. This small technique will translate into all other schools of magic. I chose fire to start because it is the most difficult to control. Dunmer may have an ancestral connection to flame, yes, but the arcane fire is alive within all who practice the arts. Your magicka is an extension of yourself, like another arm. Once you realize that you and the fire you wield are not at all separate, your connection to magicka can only become more powerful. Then, going forward, it matters not whether the spell’s casting be range, touch, or trap triggered, for your understanding will be rooted in reciprocity – a working relationship with your connection to the gifts of Magnus. Now, pair off into groups of two and practice. Do not attempt to use a spell more powerful than firebolt or you will be pulled out of the exercise.”  Neloth paced around the room for the next twenty minutes, directing and correcting the students as needed. Finally, as he stood back to watch, Teldryn stepped to his side. “You’re an excellent teacher.” Neloth looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Of course I am.”  “What I mean,” Teldryn laughed, “is that you’ve a real knack for it, considering you’re a belligerent, self-centered old s’wit.” Neloth didn’t so much smile as bare his teeth, and Teldryn laughed again before softening his tone. “A place like this would be lucky to have you.” “One incompetent apprentice is enough, thank you,” Neloth sniffed. “I don’t need an entire school of unruly children. My only hope is that Talvas hasn’t burned Tel Mithryn to the ground before we get back to Solstheim.”   

[3rddimension]

Ok, I tried to rewatch the Smosh Agree to Disagree/new studio tour from twitch on yt, but couldn't.

It just says unavailable, if anyone has the clip or has access to it on twitch, maybe you can clip it? Regardless, the question of missing old Smosh came up and I think Shayne answered the question perfectly.

What he said was along the lines of, That it is ok to miss the old Smosh and things from your past because you have a longing for fonder times. Rose tinted glasses and all, it isn't necessarily the content, it usually is the fact that life was simpler back when we were kids and we didn't have so much responsibility.

My guy's degree, sure does come in handy😉

I understand the frustration with the main channel right now, but you can't please everyone. Trust me, I'm one of many who are annoyed as all hell that some people finally got what they wanted (Classic Smosh) and quit complaining, just to have the tables turned, now there is something new to complain about.

Tbh, I feel like majority of Smosh fans are ride or die, through the Defy shutdown until now, good and bad. While some just jumped ship after Anthony left, especially during the Smosh homelessness period, and came out of the woodwork just to jump on the bandwagon when Ian and Anthony bought Smosh back.

Me personally, I feel like it is easy to weed out these outliers/trolls. I want anyone and everyone to enjoy Smosh, but it has to be genuine, and if it is, you have to be able to have open ended discussions with all types of criticism.

So, when it comes down to people leaving, especially 3/4s of the 2019 core, I'd rather get a root canal! Yet, that is me being selfish and I need to be a grown up and realize that if it happens, it happens.

If I was a betting man, i wouldn't expect it anytime soon. Like you said, give the main channel until the end of the year/early next year, and see where the subscription model stands. If it is still the same and "old smosh", (funerals, interview exes, Smoffice) aren't back, than we might need to reconvene on this topic.

I think when it comes to Shayne and Courtney, I could see them sticking around until the 10yr mark, imo. It is such a milestone, why wouldn't they? With Damien he joined around 2017, so he would have to wait a little while longer for that, but he has his voice acting roles, so I believe he's fine.

If they aren't being creatively fulfilled, than I get the reason to leave, but from the outside looking in, it seems like it won't be anytime soon.

Last part, I promise! I might sound a little selfish with this take but, if Shayne and Courtney did leave, either around the same time or if only one left, maybe they would feel more comfortable sharing their relationship with the public, e.g. socials or Courtney's yt channel.

✌

It's actually in Shourtney stream comp btw. Around 7:27!

Also agreed on all of this.

[creedslove]

Just finished reading pt 2 of betrayed and AHHHHHHHH 😭 I started getting really into it and then BOOM it ended lmao 😭

I am proud of the reader for having self-respect and not forgiving Pedrito so fast (bc I too get annoyed when that happens 🙄) And Mr. Pascal how dare you! Be such a selfish asshole 😫 I want to root for him so so bad but he's making it impossible 😮‍💨

Bc I am a bitter person, I want him to suffer 😈, even if it's just a little bit, and realize that what he did was FAR FROM what a "good friend" would do and understand that reader has the right to be upset with him and maybe not want to forgive him (?)

Idea: Maybe reader accidentally bumps into someone at a coffee shop and spills her drink on them (or vice-versa) which leads to a friendship... maybe the friend starts developing feelings for reader (reader might find them attractive but it's nothing compared to what she feel for pedro?) Somewhere along that Pedro realizing that something could happen (is happening) between them and that's when he starts acknowledging that what he did was a shitty thing to do...? No lo se, solo es una idea 😂

I don't normally read Pedro fanfics, but the summary was right up my alley, and I decided to cave just this once, and let me tell you, I AM HOOKED, I AM OBSESSED 🫶🏽

I will be reading all the parts you decide to write, please don't feel pressured to post pt 3 or any future parts as soon as possible, take the time you need to write them, and we will all be patiently and eagerly waiting for them!!!! 💛

Yaaaay, I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself with this story!!! And tell me about it, pedrito está sendo un chico muy malo, no sé lo que pasó

But yeah, I don't like when reader forgives him so easily and i hold grudges so i am writing this to satisfy myself because i love angst and suffering and he deserves to have his heart broken too, it is not fair what he did to her, it was so cruel and what makes me angry is that he keeps pretending it wasn't a big deal!!!

I loooovee this idea and I thought of something similar that's gonna happen in the next chapter, i already know what'll happen next just haven't decided if it will be all in chapter 3 or if it'll be split into another chapter 🌚🌝

I'll be writing more during the day so let's see how it goes 😉

If I'm able to finish it today, I'll probably post it tomorrow night tho

[garbagefarm]

Garbage Farm #50

2024-04-17, session #50 of Garbage Farm! Spanning Winter 16 through Winter 26 of Year 4!

cast:

me (@mothmute)

E.B. (@blueherin)

Kimi (@2kimi2furious)

Highlights include, but are not limited to the following:

Winter 16:

I'm gonna be tending the animals for a while, so everybody else can focus on getting their skills up to mastery

Ostrichard hatched!

doin' cheese chores!

I accept a BIG GAME FISHING quest from Mr. Qi!

—first, though, I need to do some submarine fishing! aaand accidentally miss E.B. who wanted to join, oh well.

Folks getting to bed late. "We do like to flirt with danger on the Garbage compound" "that's not all we flirt with 😉"

Winter 17:

Alex made Kimi pancakes! Alex keeps giving Kimi food to make her strong, because he wants her to carry him bridal-style. We all want Kimi to carry us, bridal-style. (She says she will get strong enough to carry all of us at once.)

(I remember Wizard's birthday!)

y'know, cindersap forest has regrown a lot since last time we deforested it......

Caught the Glacierfish Jr.!

Winter 18:

Starmas gift-givers announced! I got Pam, E.B. got Alex, and Kimi got Evelyn

having misplaced my own horse, Frucko, I borrow E.B.'s horse

I catch Mrs. Anglerfish and Son of Crimsonfish!

(Kimi deforests Cindersap forest)

Winter 19:

E.B. wants to open some of the mystery lootboxes, but Clint is nowhere to be found

Pam is also on vacation, allowing us to drive to the desert if we want

We failed fishquest. Kimi blames the ducks.

(Kimi is Possum's favorite)

E.B. tells me I'm tempting fate a lot these days. “that's not all I'm tempting 😉”

Winter 20:

Kimi wonders if we're on Pam's insurance. What insurance?? We had to get the Junimos to fix up the bus!!

Harvey says it's nice to live somewhere as relaxing as Garbage Farm

I deliver eggs to Gus — if I'm being honest, we probably would've gotten more for those eggs if we'd kept 'em.

E.B. finishes shipping the taro root that Caroline asked for!

Winter 21:

Caroline shares the secrets of solar power with all of us

it's a jelly day AND a keg day, I am busy all day

Harvey has nightmares about dragging E.B.'s limp body to the hospital

Elliott has nightmares about me giving him a buzz cut

(Alex never has nightmares, because that requires too many brain cells)

E.B. has been putting bombs in my fridge. “... thanks?” “you're welcome”

Winter 22:

I don't remember the context for this, but: how dare I suggest Kimi could read?

Pizza is missing... (maybe Shane found him, have you checked the mail?)

E.B. walks 10,000 steps, and would walk 10,000 more

Possum gives Kimi a snail!!

meanwhile, I'm mismanaging the cheese production for my own sick purposes, hope you don't mind. (E.B. accuses me of being a cheese deviant.)

Kimi finally finds Pizza: in bed for once in his gd life.

I set up a second water bowl, and get a turtle! Grandpa Jr.!

(I go on a late night stroll through the volcano, but return empty-handed)

Winter 23:

Kimi gets salmonella kissing Grandpa Jr. — “he's beautiful, so much better than the ducks”

E.B. makes rock crab rangoon, Marlon is very pleased.

—oh right at some point I activated the Danger Mines!

We all party up to conquer the mines!

E.B. dies due to disconnection, I die halfway into my bed. RIP I guess

Winter 24:

Finish the chores, and get back to the mines!

(those putrid ghosts inflicting nausea are awful!)

Kimi hits level 10 mining! One step closer to mastery!

Winter 25:

Elliott says something to Kimi about smelling the sea?? Honey, you're on a farm, and it's not even the beach farm.

It's Starmas!!

I give Pam a beer; Maru gives me a pumpkin pie.

Kimi gives Evelyn a flower; George gives her a pink cake. (I'm glad she's getting along with her in-laws!)

E.B. gives Alex an egg.

On learning that E.B.'s secret gift-giver was Kent, Kimi and I both immediately ask if he gave her a bomb. Turns out he gave her wine. ...then we realize it's a DIY molotov cocktail, because of course it'd be a bomb.

Shane wants to give out more pizzas.

Vincent got a “stegosonaurus”

Sam got a "joja basket" — I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound great.

Winter 26?:

non-canon day

We decide to just have a fancy brunch this time. Drink some of our fancy ancient fruit wine, and eat our artisanal cheeses.

TO-DO

god we've still got so much left to do

need to find more of the jellies, so we can make a smoker

I'm still trying to set up crystalariums and preserves jars and kegs!

still— good garbage, everybody!

[universitypenguin]

The commentary continues…

I can totally see Iceman as an FBI agent. This is an excellent casting.

“I carry just what I need in it,” you replied

Girl, same.

“What is up with you?” You demanded, hands on your hips. “You love things like this! You’re the one person I know who gets more excited about this shit than I do, and you’re over here looking like someone just told you they were planning on kidnapping me. You did the same thing yesterday!”

You go, girl 🤩

Bob? This is karma. You shall reap what you sow… 😌😉

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he sighed. “The shells are great, really. I guess I just have a lot on my mind with the murders and all that.”

It could’ve been a good apology, maybe even a great one, but then he had to go and make her feel guilty for reacting to his own weird and suspicious behavior. I’m rating Bob’s apology a 3/10 on the basis that he might have been worried about the serial killer…

Wait! STOP THE PRESSES… rewind… ⏪

“So he and that other guy are here because of this serial killer no one told me about?” Bob asked her, eyebrow raised.

🤨

BOB! Robert Floyd!! I was giving you the benefit of the doubt and you do this to me? How could you?!! You’re a lying snake who can’t have had “a lot on his mind” because this serial killer business was supposedly fresh news to you! Liar! 🐍 🤬

I’m on the verge of canceling Bob right now, NGL. He’s dancing on my last nerve with the manipulation. Yes, I know that he has his reasons but this lying and acting sus isn’t doing him any favors in my eyes.

Bob’s polls are already in the cellar and they’re dropping lower by the minute. 📉

I digress… now where was I?

Okay, the dialogue at the end of this scene was fire. “Semantics” is such a great word. We really don’t use it enough.

Also, is Bob the killer?! Because that would explain why he claimed to “have a lot on his mind.” The only issue is that he seems to have been occupied all day and I’m not seeing a window of opportunity for him to commit the crime.

You spotted a familiar, little shop and began walking towards it.

This is so satisfying to me. It also seems to prove my initial theory about the main character being bold and proactive correct. Go get some answers, my friend! Clearly Bob isn’t going to be the one to tell you what’s up. 😑

“The…algae?” She asked. You nodded, and she threw her head back in a fit of laughter.

I like this lady, because she’s rooted in reality. Algae stuck in a wound? Eeehhh… cap 🧢

“Have you found any interesting seashells along the beach since I last saw you?”

Okay. This woman knows more than a little something about the mermaids 🧜‍♀️

“The current, you say?” She said, barely hiding her amusement. You nodded self consciously, and the old woman shook her head with a chuckle.

I’m right there with you, Mrs. C 🤭

Also, I’m glad that our main character is starting to pick up on the under currents and figure things out a little. I have (some) hope for her yet.

“Seems to me like you’ve caught the eye of a sea person, my dear.”

Yay!!😁

Way to go Mrs. C! Thank you, thank you, thank you for dropping your knowledge on our girl. I’m not sure how well it will be received, but I’m grateful to you for trying and for being honest. (Something Bob has proven himself incapable of doing… *hiss*)

“I’m surprised no one’s told you yet,”

I love her! 😍 I genuinely love this woman. Skipper should kick Bob to the curb and become besties with Mrs. C.

And what’s an intention bite? Is it like an engagement? Uh-oh. 🫨😳

I don’t think Skipper consented to that… 🫣

Jake! You’ve got some splainin’ to do!

“Oh, but it is, dear child,” she smiled, no hint of malice to it, just understanding. “I’m not sure why no one is telling you the truth.”

She doesn’t know the truth because Bob is a liar who somehow thought he could just brush it under the rug that two of his friends are mermen. He’s an idiot. A certifiable idiot!

Choice is such an important piece of the courting ritual, after all.

That’s a relief to hear.

How can you make an informed decision without all of the pieces?

Preach, Mrs. C! 🥳

I’m so happy that Skipper is asking questions. I don’t know if she’ll buy it just yet, but I’m very glad she’s gathering some more information. It proves that she’s open minded and that’s a good sign. And I’m glad that my questions about the lore are being quickly addressed- that’s very satisfying.

Or maybe it was because a part of you, one that you were trying your best not to acknowledge in that moment, believed her.

I think she’s intuitively aware of what’s going on, and why Bob and the others are acting so weird, but she’s not quite at acceptance yet. I like that. The pacing of her awareness and the peeling back of layers feels very realistic to the way that a typical person would process shocking information.

I think the two of you are really cute, and I don’t think the others have figured it out yet. I just see the way you two look at each other when you think no one else is.

Cha-Ching! Skipper is intuitive, I called it again! I love it when I can figure out how a character is going to behave and get a sense of how they interact with their environment. It goes to show that Skipper’s characterization is fantastic!

Awesome! 👏🏻 Cyclone has made an appearance! I like this casting, too. He definitely fits with the persona of an FBI agent, just like Iceman does. The institutional, conservative, strait-laced image that both characters had in the movie combines with those same qualities in the FBI and the alternative universe of them as government agents dove-tails perfectly into this story.

That slip of the tongue by Cyclone! Who’s more embarrassed, Agent Simpson or Nat? 😂😭

Why had Tom asked Nat about who the lucky man was when he was looking at your neck? Why did he keep starting at it at all? What had he meant by not having to worry?

I’m enjoying the fact that reality is slowly dawning on Skipper. The interactions with her and Mrs. C, then the incident with Tom did a great job of showing the conflict and building up towards a revelation.

This story has great pacing!

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Four

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Four

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, talk of courting and mating, FBI, mentions of murder. Think that’s it.

Word Count: 3.87k

A/N: Here is Chapter Four! A whole lot of setting up what's to come, I think, but hopefully y'all still like it! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“Are you still feeling alright, honey?” Susan asked you, checking you over. You gave her a small smile as she gave you a once over. Her green scrubs contrasted against her blonde hair, and the wrinkles around her eyes were more pronounced as she frowned at you worriedly. “You’re still taking it easy, right? Remember what Dr. Carson said when he checked you out the other day.”

“I’m fine, Susan. I promise,” you reassured the older nurse. She studied you for a second longer before turning to fix her coffee.

“You know, it’s a real shame about that Morris girl,” she continued. “She was always such a sweet girl. Wasn’t she in your class, Bobby?”

“No, she was a year ahead with Reuben, Nat, and Jake,” he muttered through a mouthful of Cheerios.

“That’s right,” she nodded.

Bob swallowed his mouthful and peered up at his mother. “Are you going to tell us what’s been going on?”

“You know,” she sighed exasperatedly, “I could have sworn I had told you. Or at least I would have if you bothered to answer your phone every once in a while.”

“You could tell me now?” Bob said sarcastically. Susan glared over at him.

“Tone, mister,” she warned before letting out another sigh and leaning against the kitchen counter. “I suppose it’s been a little over two months now since they found the first body. Everyone thought it was just an accident since it looked like a drowning. But then a couple of weeks later another body washed up, and then another one a couple weeks after that. They were all young women about the same age, and they all appeared to have drowned. Maverick was worried that there was a serial killer on the loose, so he called in a favor to Tom. You remember Tom, don’t you, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I remember Mr. Kazansky, Mom,” Bob nodded. “He was only the my baseball coach for most of middle school and high school.”

“Such a sweet man,” Susan nodded with a small smile towards you. “We were all sad to see him leave, but when the FBI offers you a job, what person in their right mind says no?”

“So he and that other guy are here because of this serial killer no one told me about?” Bob asked her, eyebrow raised.

Susan scowled at him, but let out a sigh. “Tom and his partner, Agent Simpson, got here about two weeks ago when the last body was found. I was talking to Tom the other day, actually, and he told me that there were signs of a struggle, which is why they got called in.”

“Should he be telling you that?” Bob frowned. She shrugged, sipping from her coffee mug.

“I think they’re holding a press conference today to discuss everything. He wouldn’t have told me if they weren’t already planning on telling everyone, I’m sure.”

“A serial killer,” you hummed, frowning. “That’s really scary, actually.”

“It is,” she agreed, eyeing you. “Which is why I want you to promise me that you won’t go off on your own at night, alright? You should be fine during the day time, especially with the summer crowds, but I want you to make sure you have somebody with you after the sun goes down.”

“I will, Susan,” you smiled.

Bob peered over at you from over his own coffee mug. “I promised Dad that I’d take the boat out with him today. I don’t suppose you wanted to tag along?”

“No,” you told him, shaking your head. “Nat actually texted me last night and asked me if I wanted to go and hang out at the boardwalk today, and I told her that I did. You’ll be okay without me, yeah?”

“‘Course,” he snorted, moving to take his dishes to the sink. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve ditched me for other friends.”

“If you’re talking about that time in sophomore year when I went with Abby and Rachel to the football game after you insisted that you would be a fourth wheel even though we all told you that you wouldn’t be, then this is not the same situation at all.”

“I beg to differ,” he laughed, heading for the back door.

“You can beg all you want, but it’s the truth,” you giggled. “Oh, wait!”

You got up from your own chair, moving to follow him.

“I think I left my bag on the boat last night,” you told him. “I’m going to grab it before I head out.”

The two of you walked down the stone path until you reached the small strip of sand that led out onto the dock.

“You know I’m not ditching you, right?” You asked him, suddenly worried that your best friend really did think you were trying to leave him behind. Bob snorted and looked over at you with a quirk of his brow.

“Of course I don’t,” he said, making a beeline for the boat that bobbed up and down with the waves. “I don’t expect you to tag along with me everywhere. I’m actually really happy that you and the gang are getting along so well.”

“Okay,” you trailed off. “Good. Because I really like hanging out with them.”

Bob chuckled as he stepped onto the boat, turning to face you. “I know. Stay right there and I’ll grab your bag, yeah?”

You nodded, turning to watch the waves as he disappeared towards the back of the boat. You glanced down when a shine of light danced in the corner of your eye. Sitting on the wood of the dock was a collection of more shells and pearls, and you immediately crouched down to take a better look at them. A couple of sand dollars were added into the mix this time and even more pearls of various shapes, sizes, and colors were mixed in with the lot. You picked each one up gently, inspecting them. Your favorite was the beautiful black pearl that rested in the center of the grouping. The oily colors on its surface danced as you inspected it, and you felt your skin prickle in delight.

Your gaze shifted to the breathtaking conch shell that rested near the edge, and you gingerly lifted it up to get a better look at it. It truly was a marvelous sight. One of the best specimens you had ever had the privilege of seeing.

“How much crap do you carry in this thing?”

You whirled around to see Bob grimacing as he made his way towards you with your simple hobo bag.

“I carry just what I need in it,” you replied to him, reaching an arm out to take the bag.

“What are you doing crouched over here?” Bob asked you, brow furrowing as he handed it off to you. He stopped short when he saw the collection of ocean treasures at your feet. He inspected them before moving his eyes up to meet yours.

“Look at these!” You grinned, gesturing down at them. “These are more spectacular than the last bunch! Have you ever seen such amazing specimens? And these pearls!”

“Yeah,” Bob said uneasily, eyes shifting to look out at the water. “They’re pretty great.”

You stood up suddenly, turning to fix him with a small glare.

“What is up with you?” You demanded, hands on your hips. “You love things like this! You’re the one person I know who gets more excited about this shit than I do, and you’re over here looking like someone just told you they were planning on kidnapping me. You did the same thing yesterday!”

Bob’s eyes widened at your outburst before melting into a sheepish expression as he looked away. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck before letting out a sigh, looking back at you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he sighed. “The shells are great, really. I guess I just have a lot on my mind with the murders and all that.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, replacing the annoyance. Your hands moved to pull him into a hug, one he returned.

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” You told him, squeezing him tight. “I’ll be extra careful to not be by myself at night, so you don’t have to worry about me, yeah?”

Bob didn’t say anything for a moment. He pulled back to look at you, a fond smile on his face as he regarded you.

“I’m always going to worry about you, you know,” he smirked, something serious behind his eyes despite the teasing tone he used. “You’re like the little sister I never had.”

“Bob,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m literally three months older than you.”

He grinned at that.

“Semantics.”

The street was busy as people walked back and forth along the boardwalk, taking in the different rides and stalls as the excitement for summer festival began to grow. Several decorations littered the pathways, all of various sea creatures and more than a few mermaids. You watched the different families, friends, and couples run around to the different events, and you let out a sigh as you checked your phone once again.

Sorry, Skip! Mom needed help with some things at the shop so I’m running late. Give me half an hour!

That had been thirty-five minutes ago, and you hadn’t heard anything. Sighing, you wiped the sweat from your brow, deciding to take a break from the overwhelming heat. You spotted a familiar, little shop and began walking towards it.

The bell above the door rang out as you stepped inside, letting out a breath of relief as the cool air washed over you. The shop hadn’t changed much in the days since you had last been in. There were new novelty items scattered about, but for the most part, Mrs. Cambroni’s shop was still quaint and cheesy.

The old woman appeared from the backroom, giving you a warm smile as she gave you a once over. Her eyes landed on your neck, an eyebrow quirking as she took in the raised skin that still shone in the light.

“My, my, dear,” she hummed, leaning against the counter. “What happened there?”

“Oh this?” You asked, resting your hand over the mark. You suppressed a shiver as a oddly pleasant feeling washed over you. “I had a bit of an accident the other day. I fell of a boat and washed up on shore.”

“Oh, how terrible!”

“Yeah, but I’m okay!” You chirped. “The doctor checked me out and said I was fine, just a little bruised. Said I was really lucky that nothing worse happened.”

“I’m sure you were,” she murmured, eyes still locked on your neck.

“But I guess I must have hit my neck pretty good on some rocks because the bump hasn’t gone away and the algae practically looks like it’s a part of my skin now,” you joked. Mrs. Cambroni blinked at you.

“The…algae?” She asked. You nodded, and she threw her head back in a fit of laughter. You stared at her in confusion until she calmed down, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t mean to laugh,” she said through bouts of giggles. “What brings you by my little shop?”

“Oh!” You cried, moving closer to the counter. “Nothing really, I was just waiting for a friend, but she’s running late. So, I thought I’d pop back in and say hi after I got dragged out of here the other day.”

Mrs. Cambroni gave another hum, a knowing look on her face. She took a sip from the cup of tea she held in her hands.

“Have you found any interesting seashells along the beach since I last saw you?”

“Actually, yes!” You smiled, digging through your bag to pull out the collection you were beginning to compile. “I found these over the last couple of days. It’s strange though, none of these were on the beach. I found a pile of them on our boat and then another pile on the dock this morning. My friend said it must have been the current-”

Mrs. Cambroni’s eyes widened as she coughed up her tea, nearly choking on it as she fought to regain control over her breathing. You reached out a hand to soothe her, and she gave you a grateful smile.

“The current, you say?” She said, barely hiding her amusement. You nodded self consciously, and the old woman shook her head with a chuckle.

“Seems to me like you’ve caught the eye of a sea person, my dear.”

Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen. “What?”

“I’m surprised no one’s told you yet,” she mused, setting her cup down and examining the shells and pearls. “It’s part of the courting rituals for their kind, after all. Just like that intention bite on your neck.”

Your blood ran cold, recalling how your first reaction to the raised skin was that it looked like a bite mark.

“But it’s not-”

“Oh, but it is, dear child,” she smiled, no hint of malice to it, just understanding. “I’m not sure why no one is telling you the truth. Perhaps it’s because you aren’t a local, and they don’t know if you can be fully trusted yet. Or perhaps it’s because you were chosen in a moment of frenzy. Choice is such an important piece of the courting ritual, after all.”

“Is that why you’re telling me all of this?” You asked her, brow quirked. “Because you think I should have a choice?”

“Precisely. How can you make an informed decision without all of the pieces?”

“Alright, then,” You started, deciding to amuse the woman before you, “what is it you can tell me?”

“What is it you want to know?”

“Tell me more about the courting rituals. What are they? What does it entail?”

“Well,” she smiled, “that certainly is an interesting first question. It’s simple really. It starts with the bite mark on your neck. What you have right now is called an intention bite. This bite is to let other sea people know that you have been marked as the intended mate for someone. As long as that bite remains on your neck, every sea person who lays eyes on it will know that you are spoken for. If that wasn’t enough of a hint, it changes your scent as well.”

“Are you saying that I smell different?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded. “But not in an unpleasant way, dear. And as long as that’s the only bite mark that remains on your neck, it’ll fade after a few months along with it. The intention mark is only meant to be a placeholder for the permanent mark.”

“And what is that?” You asked her. Mrs. Cambroni turned her serious gaze to your face.

“That would be the mating mark.”

“And what does that one do?” You murmured, voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why you were entertaining this conversation, to be honest. Maybe it was your longstanding fascination with mermaids that kept you rooted there, listening intently. Or maybe it was because a part of you, one that you were trying your best not to acknowledge in that moment, believed her.

Before Mrs. Cambroni could respond, the bell above the door chimed again, and you both turned to see Nat red faced and out of breath as she looked at you.

“There you are!” She smiled, relaxing as she let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Sorry!” You exclaimed, gathering your seashells and giving Mrs. Cambroni an apologetic smile. “I was getting really hot and I thought I’d stop in here for a few minutes.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Nat said, watching the older woman with a suspicious frown. “I lost track of the time after I texted you.”

You waved to the shop owner as you followed Nat out the door, the sun bathing you in its warm rays. You peered over at your friend, a mischievous smirk on your face as your eyes lowered to her neck.

“Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that huge hickey on your neck, right?”

Nat’s hand flew up to her neck, cheeks flushing as she tried to splutter out an excuse.

“So,” you chirped as your friend continued to recover her speech. “Which of the boys is it?”

“What makes you so sure it was one of them?” She muttered, the red on her cheeks growing more pronounced.

You ignored her. “My money is on Javy.”

“How did you know?” She shrieked, earning a couple of stares from passersby. You laughed at her expression.

“I didn’t until just now.”

Nat let out a long groan, hiding her face in her hands. You rested a hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said. “I think the two of you are really cute, and I don’t think the others have figured it out yet. I just see the way you two look at each other when you think no one else is. I wish someone would look at me like that.”

Natasha peeked out from behind her fingers, an oddly thoughtful look on her face as she studied you. Before you could ask, she was straightening up, a smile replacing her embarrassment.

“Do you think you could hold off on saying anything?” She asked you. You nodded, holding out your pinky to her. She wrapped her own around it, and the two of you shook on it.

“Scout’s honor, Nat!”

“Good!” She giggled, peering around the boardwalk. “What do you want to hit first?”

After Nat convinced you to take a ride on the tilt-o-whirl, you were sure you’d never walk straight again. You groaned as you fought to stay upright, nearly crashing into a man as you passed him. Your shoulder bumped his, and you turned around to look at him.

“I am so sorry!” You cried, hands reaching out to steady him, but stopping when you noticed that he was just fine. And staring at you. You gave him a sheepish smile, but the look on his face remained impassive. If the world wasn’t still spinning around you, you might have said that the green in his eyes glowed in the summer light. Natasha laughed beside you, throwing out another apology to the man as she dragged you off.

“Never again, Nat,” you said, suddenly feeling nauseous.

“I’m surprised you managed to make it without hurling!” She cackled, leaning you against the wood railing so you could catch your breath.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” you muttered, leaning over the side.

“Natasha!”

The both of you turned to see the weathered face of the FBI agent and his partner strolling up to you.

“Oh! Hey, Mr. Kazansky!” She called out with a wave. You turned to face them just as they stopped in front of you.

“C’mon now, Nat. It’s Tom, you know that,” the older man chuckled, eyes moving to you. “And who is this?”

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself, reaching out a hand to shake his. “But everyone just calls me Skipper these days.”

“Ah! You must be the young lady Susan was telling me about the other day,” Tom smiled. “It’s good to finally put a face to a name. This is my partner, Agent Beau Simpson.”

“A pleasure,” the other man said as he shook both of your hands.

“So are you two enjoying the festival so far?” Tom asked, smile still on his face. “This small town isn’t too boring for you, is it, Skipper?”

“Not at all!” You assured him, shaking your head. “I think it’s quite a charming little place! And everyone has been so nice since I got here.”

“That’s good to hear,” he chuckled, eyes falling to your neck. “Where’s the lucky boy?”

You gave him a confused look, and Nat cleared her throat, stepping up.

“It’s so embarrassing,” she started, giving Tom a pointed look. “Javy and I have been seeing each other on the sly for a while now, and I didn’t even think he left a mark. I’ll have to tell him to be more careful next time.”

Tom glanced between the two of you, understanding dawning on his face. He gave another smile.

“Young love is such a wonderful thing, don’t you agree Beau?” He asked his partner, who just smiled in agreement. “Don’t keep it a secret for too long, Nat.”

“Of course,” she smiled.

“You two are being careful, aren’t you?” Asked Agent Simpson. Nat’s face could have been mistaken for a tomato from how hard she was blushing. Agent Simpson seemed to have realized what he said and a blush of his own crept onto his face.

“With the murders, I mean,” he explained quickly. Tom let out a chuckle as Nat cleared her throat. “We just got done giving a press conference. No curfew yet, but we’re advising young ladies to not be out at night on their own until we can find whoever is doing this.”

“Oh, of course!” You said, nodding your head in understanding. “We’re being careful! It’s such a shame what happened.”

“You two were there, weren’t you?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, we were,” you trailed off, feeling the nausea return at the memory of the girl’s body as it lay in the sand. You suppressed a shudder. “It was awful.”

“It was,” Beau agreed, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Which is why we don’t want to see anything happen to anyone else.”

“You don’t have to worry about us,” Nat said, a determined smile on her face as she looked at the two older men. Tom chuckled, eyes moving from her to you, still studying the mark on your neck.

“No,” he said finally. “I don’t suppose we will.”

You couldn’t help but think back to your conversation with Mrs. Cambroni.

As long as that bite remains on your neck, every sea person who lays eyes on it will know that you are spoken for.

“Well,” Tom started, eyes looking over your shoulder now, “you two ladies have fun! We won’t keep you any longer.”

He made to move, and Agent Simpson made to follow after him. The dark haired man stopped just after he passed you.

“Oh,” he said, “And don’t hesitate to let us know if you see anything suspicious, yeah?”

“We will!” Nat called after him as she started dragging you in the opposite direction. The whole exchange felt weird to you. Why had Tom asked Nat about who the lucky man was when he was looking at your neck? Why did he keep starting at it at all? What had he meant by not having to worry?

You took a deep breath, deciding that you were overthinking the matter and that Mrs. Cambroni’s stories had just gotten in your head. But even as you had made your mind up to ignore your questions, you couldn’t help but feel a pulse come from the base of your neck as if it were begging you to keep questioning.

Tag List: @jakeseresinlover @haley-hotchner @queerqueenlynn @dempy @fanficfandomlove @aworldwideapart @stoptaking-the-good-names @maximus890 @sky2nd @devil-angel-winchester @hopip99 @hookslove1592 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @imamomof8 @pietrothemovie @kmc1989 @mayhemmanaged @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @hangmandruigandmav @na-ta-sh-aa @witchybabel @keyrani @i-wanna-be-your-muse @buckysteveloki-me @clancycucumber230 @dreamlandcreations @emotionallysalty @fandom-life-12 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @nouis-bum @topherwrites @squeaky-bumblbee22 @crybaby-21 @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @xl-pr @stillreadingfantasy

[misshelmetofsteel]

You got it all wrong child.

It was a letter from a girl. She said she was me. Just a little bit older, a little bit ahead of me, with just a little experience, but she was me.

It's ridiculous.

I know what day it is. The day you open my letter. It's a day like any other even though I know it doesn't feel that way. You will have many more like those, some may even feel worse but when you get here, you will see, today is just a day like any other.

You're kidding, right?

Oh, but you're young. I remember that day with fondness. A little girl feeling like she got the burden of all the women of the world. I thought I'd seen enough of this world, had enough of this life, oh if I had known it was just starting. I hadn't had the least bit, and maybe not all good, but gurl! You'll love it here.

Fuck yeah. As if.

There's something else. You wont have to worry about it. You see, right now you think you know what's best for you. It's not. In fact, it may have almost ruined us, all those little things you keep in our head and the needless worries you take to heart. Yeah, I dare even call them stupid, for you will see.

Am really gonna tear this.

It's coming tomorrow. From a time, a dimension that operates different from the one we know, but always for us. It's a time that feels too slow, as if it operates on the last minute basis, but it's called perfection. Allowing us just enough time to grow, for the magnitude of what we ought to handle, and baby, I tell you, you've got muscle!

Snort.

Keep your heart and mind open. Do not give too much lodging to what is unnecessary. For it is what you have done for so long. I am happy. We are. At peace and well loved, and surprisingly nothing today is the same once you get here. We get to heal along the way. Our bud shoots and the most magnificent petals emerged. But it's the roots that are even more fascinating. We got to tap into the best of the world, and finally claimed our ground.

Okay....

I think I made my point. I am you, and I know we listen, and I learnt, so you too will. You have overcome more before and you will, for I stand in owe of your little brave heart. I have seen the journey of your growth, how you stretched out the scars you have gained over the years, and I delight in the beautiful glow we have acquired.

Okay.... Really?

Yeah, really sis. We make it out alive, and whole, and better. So keep on and know what's working for and with you, it's the secret 😉🤗😍😘

[genshin-scenarios]

Imagine catching butterflies with Xiao... Well, kind of. Do the ones in your stomach count? Those have been living there for a while 😉

Summary: Just some fluff

After a day of barely being able to catch crystalflies once again (you needed them for crafting condensed resin and to fulfill a commission request) your moping takes you to a picturesque spot. 

The leaves are a soft yellow as they sway with the breeze, and under it is a peculiar sight; Xiao, napping by its roots and looking oddly comfortable.

With all his dedication to protecting Liyue, you wouldn’t put it past him to neglect his own rest for his duties.

(...Or perhaps adepti did not need to sleep, and he’s simply decided to do this because the weather was perfect for a short nap. You can never know, with him.)

Stepping closer, you notice something glittering on his hair - it almost seemed alive. Three seconds later you realise it was alive - a crystalfly is perched on Xiao’s head!

No way... Can I catch it? You start to circle about the sleeping man, not getting too close lest you startle either one of them. Before you can think twice, it starts to flap its wings as if to take off, causing you to dart forward in an attempt to grab it.

Just as you did that, Xiao’s eyes flutter open - just in time to freeze as you tried not to trip and fall onto him. You’re half-sure that if he hadn’t processed this quick enough, he might’ve instinctively taken you for an attacker and countered your action. You awkwardly crack a smile while you loom over him, finding it hard to explain to Xiao how you were not doing anything suspicious.

When he speaks, you step back and take your shadow along with you. The sunlight hits his eyes better now. You can’t help but think that he’s incredibly pretty, even in normal moments like these - no, especially these, you suppose you’d rather say.

Later on Xiao offers to help you with your crystalfly farming after having heard of your struggles with it. The trick is to be quick and not hesitate, he says - but how could your speed every compare to his?

When you mention how you wonder what it’s like to be that swift, XIao suggests the unexpected; picking you up to higher ground to try it for yourself (seeing as gliding is indeed faster in some cases). You then find yourself high up in the large tree that stretched toward the sky - arms instinctually wrapped around his neck to steady yourself. Despite the height, you felt safe in Xiao’s arms - they’re protective and secure in how they support you, lifting you with unassuming ease. And with that, your little hunt for more winged gems continue.

“Haha, you couldn’t catch that either, Xiao!”

“...Maybe the extra weight is slowing me down.”

“Hey!”

“Pfft.”