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imagininggintama · 4 years ago

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Life is Unpredictable

I got inspiration to write this a while ago and just finished it tonight (1:25 AM, which is about 11 hours before it'll be posted), so here it is! Enjoy.

Warnings: I don't think there is anything to point out, but please let me know if something ends up bothering you!!!

Gintoki Sakata

Word Count: 4,075

The faint smell of moisture in the air mixed with the sudden smell of earth distracted you, making you look up to the skies to see the grey and dreary clouds blanketing the once vibrant blue and white. You heave a sigh from deep within your chest and begin packing your things neatly into your bag. All you wanted to do with your free time today was to sit and read and possibly write some fiction, letting your mind disappear into the depths of a fantastical land that was written just for you--maybe. You hadn't quite decided if you were planning to read or write, but the feeling that it would rain soon dragged you out of the right mind set. You stood from the outdoor seating area that was in front of the cafe and began to make your way down the street.

You needed to stop at a store to get an umbrella, since you were carrying a laptop on your person and hadn't expected there to be a sudden rainstorm today. You barely managed to get inside the store before the rain began falling, giving a sigh of relief that you narrowly avoided a catastrophe. You grabbed a shopping cart and put your bag inside of it, deciding to linger and see if anything caught your eye. Truthfully, you were hoping the rain would stop within the time you browsed through the store, but were realistic enough to grab an umbrella as soon as you passed them. The one you decided on was a bit pricier than you would have liked, but what really made you choose it was the size. It would definitely cover you and maybe three other people if you all huddled together, and it was a steal for the price versus size. You really wanted to avoid you or your bag getting wet if you could help it.

After about fifteen minutes, you had only really picked up a bottle of water to drink on your walk home. Nothing else piqued your interest enough to bother buying. So, you paid for your two items and made your way out of the store. You were genuinely surprised at how well it kept you dry--minus your ankles down. You can't fault the umbrella for that now, can you? It was a nice change of pace to constantly feeling the slight drops that the wind would blow in your face. You gave a faint hum as your thoughts wandered, used to being in your own head for lengthy periods of time. It made things… Easier to deal with, especially when you could manage to sort of auto-pilot your way somewhere. The walk home? You knew like the back of your hand: same street, same smells, easily avoidable blurs of color--or people as some would actually call them.

"Ah, man," a sudden voice exclaimed, pulling you from your thoughts, "my JUMP's going to get soaked with all this rain." You tilted your umbrella in just the right way to see the figure who was talking--a man with curly silver hair, reddish tired eyes, and a very unusual outfit. You couldn't help but mentally wonder if he got hot in summer or froze in winter. In his hand was the latest issue of Weekly JUMP. His situation reminded you of your own just half an hour or so earlier…

"Um, excuse me?" You walked over to him, ignoring the rough and gruff exterior. "Do you live far from here? You could share my umbrella if it's somewhat close." You probably sounded awkward and unsure of yourself, but that's because you hadn't really thought thoroughly of how to approach this strange man prior to taking action. He lifted his head to look at you, blinking before it settled in his head that you were talking to him. He seemed to take a second, most likely processing or replaying what you had said, before smiling.

"Yeah! It's just a couple of blocks down from here, that way," he replied and pointed, "are you sure though? I can't really offer anything in return." He was only being so upfront since he was concerned you might try to ask for something once you helped him home. He didn't have anything to give! ...unless you wanted an alien girl and a giant dog. No! He needed them for his job as non-paid employees. He saw your lips move but no sound processed in his silly little head, too busy making up scenarios.

"Huh?" He felt stupid asking, but he couldn't fake that he heard you.

"I said it's fine," you couldn't help but give a soft giggle at his expression, "besides, I have to go that way anyway. My name is Y/N, by the way." You held the umbrella higher as an invitation for him to join you, him gently taking it from your hand to hold it for you.

"Gintoki Sakata, but everyone calls me Gin, Gin-chan, or… yeah that's about all the appropriate ones anyway." He smiled when you laughed at his stupid joke before gently nudging you to let you know he was going to start walking.

"Odd Jobs Gin-chan, huh?" You read the sign out, looking up at Gin curiously.

"Yep. You have an issue? Just hire us and we'll do it."

"Huh… well, if I ever have something I need help with I'll just have to come by," you gave a soft laugh. He smiled warmly and gently grabbed your hand to put the umbrella handle back into it.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to it. Thanks for your help, and make sure you get home safely. I don't want to see you on the news tomorrow unless it's for winning the lottery, and in that case… Don't forget yer ole pal, Gin-chan." He gave his usual silly grin before he headed up the stairs, giving you a wave before he headed inside. While the rain may have ruined your plans, you can't say that today was all bad.

It had been about a week since you met the man named Gintoki Sakata, but you found yourself thinking about him a lot. You weren't quite sure what it was or why, but something about him just captured your interest. Perhaps you were just looking too far into it, or… maybe there was something just underneath the surface that was begging to show itself to you. Either way, you had thought over how to plan a trip over to Odd Jobs… You just hadn't had an actual legitimate problem that you could hire him for… It would look weird if you just went to visit him, right? People don't do that, do they?

Little did you know, though, Gin had been spending a ridiculous amount of time thinking about you, too. He, however, had no real way of contacting you since that day. There was only so many times he could head down that same street in hopes you would appear. He realized that after about the third time, he just looked sad and pathetic. Perhaps that was his own thought of how it looked, but it forced him to be back on his way to whatever else he had to do.

When he did finally begin to head home, bag of rice in hand, he decided to be realistic about the situation. It was highly unlikely that he would get to see you again. And since he didn't totally understand the feelings of a crush, he couldn't really piece together in his head why it bothered him so much. He rubbed his eyes slightly and slid into his home, pulling off his shoes before shouting out, "oi! Kagura! Come take the rice and start dinner."

"What the hell did you do?!" was what he was greeted with, an angry Kagura storming towards him.

"What's all this about?! I didn't do anything!" He quickly retaliated, preparing for the girl to hit him.

"Kagura-san, I told you, I just wanted to bring some cake over." That voice…! He zipped past the smaller figure and stared dumbly at seeing you… you! in his house! He wanted to jump for joy like a little kid, but resisted the strong urge.

"Y/N… I didn't expect to see you so soon. Do you have a job for us or did you just miss me?" As much as he wanted money, he would be happier to just spend time with you.

"Well, I wanted to hire you but I didn't have any work for you to do… so… Since I didn't want to be a bother, I thought I'd bring some tea and cake." Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment, more or less admitting that you were just hoping to see him again. His own cheeks burned bright at your comment, not expecting that to actually be the answer. He was just joking…! You weren't supposed to…! He swallowed and finally gathered the courage to speak again.

"Ah… well, uh, let's cut the cake then. Don't let Kagura cut her own piece or there won't be any for the rest of us." His mouth twitched into an awkward smile alongside the soft awkward laugh, getting a knife, some plates, and cups for the tea.

Kagura was so good at just chatting with people, that he was able to sit across from the two of you and work on composing himself. It did make him happy to see the two of you showing genuine interest in each other. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Kagura was a big part of his life. So, seeing you getting along so well made his heart feel full and… happy? Yeah, that's the word he would use. Sadaharu even seemed to like you, too, which was nice but weird. It made him just the slightest bit jealous… on the one hand that Sadaharu was getting your attention, and on the other that Sadaharu didn't bite you like he always bit him! What a rude dog!

"How did the two of you meet anyway?" Kagura asked, curious as to why someone like you would bother with someone like him. While she had these thoughts, she wouldn't say them aloud for once. She saw the way Gin seemed to perk up at just the sight of you and you at him. Maybe the two of you could hit it off… as much as she liked teasing Gin, she didn't want to ruin the possibility of him being happy. At least when it came to people; food was an entirely different story.

"Oh! I was at a cafe planning to do some writing on my laptop, when I noticed it was going to rain. I got to the store just before it came down, though. On my way home, I saw Gin stuck since he didn't have an umbrella either. I offered to share mine with him and helped him get back here."

"But you saved my JUMP from the harsh rain! And my hair. Do you know how bad it gets when it's wet?" It was the first time in a while he had spoken, just blurting out his thoughts in reply to your story. His outburst made you giggle.

"Yes, yes. I saved his JUMP from being ruined by the downpour."

"... I see. Anyway, Y/N, did you make this cake?" She pulled at your sleeve softly and pointed at the slice on her plate.

"I mean, I just used a box mix… nothing special like from scratch or anything," you laughed nervously, now worried that maybe she didn't like it. She had already eaten three slices, so you thought for sure she liked it-

"No, it's good! Delicious and special, uh-huh!" She smiled and ate the last piece that was on her plate, causing you to blink but smile softly. You gently pat Sadaharu's head, who was currently resting it in your lap, feeling slightly bad that he couldn't have any of the cake. You had made chocolate, and while you weren't totally sure if dog gods would get sick from chocolate or not, you didn't want to take the chance. He seemed to understand your concern, or he was just well behaved and didn't beg.

You would have brought a doggy treat if you had known Gin had a dog… Then again, you didn't know about Kagura either. You really didn't know much about the silver haired man, but every little bit you learned about him made you want to know even more.

"Do you like it, Gin?" You asked curiously, looking up at him. He had eaten three pieces himself, so you hoped he at least enjoyed it. You only had one of the eight, but you knew you would be giving more of it to him when you brought it over in the first place.

"It's great! I'm sad that there's not more," he gave a small pout.

"I'm sorry," you half giggled, "I'll be sure to make two big ones next time I stop by then."

"Next time?" His eyes darted up to yours, questioning so fast that he slightly spooked you. He gave you a soft apology for the fright.

"Yes, next time… if that's alright," you replied with a warm smile.

"Uh-huh! Come over whenever you like!" Kagura exclaimed, having just finished her last bit of cake. She could get used to someone baking for her.

"What she means is… we'd love to have you over whenever you're free." Gin corrected, cheeks burning. He didn't want her stealing all of your free time, especially when that was his job…! He also didn't want you to feel like you were their personal chef or something…

"Alright. Maybe next time you can come over to my place," you smiled and pulled out some paper, quickly writing on it, "here's my address and my phone number. Feel free to get in touch whenever you want."

"Right," Gin smiled back and took the paper from you. He seemed to smile a lot more when you were around and felt more relaxed. It was a nice feeling.

A week passed with nothing interesting happening at the Yorozuya, which only prompted Kagura to begin teasing Gin.

"You should go visit Y/N," she poked his cheek, knowing that Shinpachi would get curious and start asking questions. Maybe if he got annoyed or flustered enough, he would finally storm off to visit you! It wasn't that he was mopey, but he had definitely been trying to find an excuse to see you and she knew it.

"Who's Y/N?"

"Someone Gin-chan has a crush on!" She blurted before the older male had time to think of a reply, face growing hot at her words.

"Oi! Shut it Kagura! They're… A friend," he yelled then mumbled, crossing his arms and facing away with his eyes closed. It had quite literally hit him that he might be crushing on him, so the fact Kagura knew before he did well… bruised his ego a bit.

"A friend, huh?"

"Yeah! Even Sadaharu likes them! I was thinking of taking him on a walk over so they can play together," she grinned at Gin, knowing that comment would bother him more than he would want to admit.

"W… Why don't we all go over? I can introduce them to Shinpachi so they know all of the Yorozuya…" he pulled this excuse completely out of his ass, but neither of them had the heart to tease him at how happy he seemed just at the thought of visiting you. They nodded and prepared to go. Kagura had suggested making something to bring over as a gift, but since they didn't have much food… They brought rice and hoped you would appreciate it.

When they arrived, they were surprised to see a decently large house. It wasn't that they thought you were poor (like them), it was just unexpected. Kagura and Sadaharu were the first to reach the door, so she knocked as the other two made their way.

"Coming!" They could hear you shout from inside.

So he really does have a crush, Shinpachi thought as he noticed Gin smiling to himself. The only time he had seen him this happy was when he was watching the weather girl or there was a free all you can eat buffet. The latter didn't happen that often, though.

"Y/N!" Gin found himself shouting as you opened the door, beaming at just the sight of you. Your eyes lit up seeing him, smiling back.

"Gin! Kagura-chan! Oh! And Sadaharu, too! What brings you over?" Despite you talking to everyone, neither your or Gin's eyes could leave the other's. It had been too long since you had last seen each other, but it felt like forever.

"We wanted to introduce you to Shinpachi! He's part of Yorozuya too!" Kagura explained happily, pointing at the boy.

"O-Oh! It's nice to meet you! My name is Y/N. Why don't you come inside?" You smiled and gestured towards the inside of your home, stepping aside so they could walk in. It was cool inside and spacious too! There was enough room for Sadaharu to lie down comfortably without knocking or bumping into anything. You went into the kitchen as they took a seat on the couch, or a chair, or in Kagura’s case, on the floor with Sadaharu.

“I have some water, juice, or soda. Any preferences?” you shouted from the kitchen, pulling out cups just in case.

“Juice!” Kagura shouted in reply.

“Soda’s fine,” Gin muttered.

“Same here,” Shinpachi added.

Once you were done getting everyone’s drinks, making sure you knew the preferences of the variety in your fridge, you brought them out and handed them over. You got a nice big pot of ice water for Sadaharu, and gave him one of the doggy treats you had been saving for just an occasion. He happily ate it and lapped up some water before settling down next to Kagura. After offering some snacks, the four of you sat and chatted.

“We brought you some rice, sorry it’s just plain, we didn’t have much else,” Gin explained and handed you the box. He more or less murmured the last half since he felt bad he couldn't offer more. He felt the rice definitely did not match up to the cake you had brought…

“Oh! I could make some fried rice with it! That could be part of dinner, how does that sound?” He barely heard Kagura and Shinpachi agree enthusiastically, too focused on your smile. You lit up and were beaming when you made the suggestion and his heart? It just melted. You were so sweet and so kind and he could never imagine you’d actually fall for someone like him, but somewhere deep inside him he decided that he had to let you know how he felt… Tonight. He could only hope that you wouldn’t be weirded out at how quickly he caught the feelings™ for you…

“That sounds great,” he smiled back, “I can help you in the kitchen. We can let the kids hang out here while we cook?” He hoped you’d be okay with it, and that neither Shinpachi or Kagura would mind either. He wanted to be alone with you… if only for half an hour or however long it took to finish the food.

“I’d appreciate the help, Gin,” you took the container of rice and headed back towards the kitchen. You came back and explained to Shinpachi and Kagura how the remote and T.V. worked quickly. “So, can you help me chop these vegetables? I’ll season the meat.” He nodded and quietly took the cutting board, knife, and vegetables from you.

A comfortable silence grew over the two of you as you both worked on meal preparation. You couldn’t help but look over at him now and again, admiring how focused he was and precise with his cutting. You would’ve pegged him to be a bit clumsy when it came to such precision, but here he was surprising you yet again. Your eyes went from his hands up his arms, watching as his muscles twitched with the repetitive movements. His arms were fairly well defined through his odd clothing choice… You wondered how it would feel to hug him or have his arms around you…

“Y/N, can I talk to you about something?” You squeaked at the sudden noise, spilling some sauce on yourself by accident. “Oh, uh, sorry, let me help.” He apologized and wiped his hands before finding something to wipe the sauce off of you. Your face grew warm as he gently rubbed the sauce off of the lower half of your shirt, watching him with growing curiosity.

“You wanted to say something…?”

“I, uh, hope you don’t think I’m being too forward… but I just… I need to tell you how I feel,” he began stuttering, now just gently holding onto the bottom of your shirt with the napkin pressed to it, “I… I really like you… I don’t know if you could ever like someone like me, but I just had to tell you… I’m-”

“Gin, shush,” you quickly interrupted, putting your hands on his face gingerly, “I… I like you too…”

He felt warm all over at what you said, soon leaning up to kiss you passionately. You gasped gently but kissed back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. It was only a minute or so later before you heard Kagura and Shinpachi snickering, causing you to pull back. Your face was burning hot, hiding behind Gin as he glared at the two.

“G… Go back to the living room you little brats!!!” He shoved them out of the kitchen before coming back and hugging you. “I’m… I’m sorry about them, they kind of… They figured out that I had a crush on you and you know how kids are…”

“I’m just glad you feel the same as I do… I’ve felt this way about you for quite a bit… I’ve wanted to get to know you better since I first met you…”

“I know exactly how you feel,” he smiled into your hair as he pulled you closer, “it’s silly but if the kids didn’t drag me out here I don’t know when I would’ve come up with a really good reason to come out here…”

“You don’t need a reason to visit me,” you giggled softly, “you can always come over whenever you want… Maybe we can… go on a date next time?” You pressed your face against his shoulder, desperate to hide your embarrassment and the smile that crept on your lips.

“It’s a date then,” he smiled brightly and kissed your cheek before pulling back, “now, let’s finish dinner before they come back in here and bother us again.”

“Sounds like a plan, I don’t want to see how Kagura is when she’s hungry.”

It didn’t take long for the food to be done, but to both of your horrors...

“A date, huh?” Shinpachi spoke calmly, sipping his soda from before as if he wasn’t trying to tease either of you.

“A date, uh-huh! Gin better not make Y/N pay or I’ll kick his butt and make sure he can’t reproduce!”

“Who the hell is teaching you such garbage language you filthy brat?!” Gin’s eye twitched, both at being teased and the idea that Kagura even knew what she was saying… He’d have to quietly pray to some form of deity later for protection for little Gin.

“U-Um,” you started, hoping to change the subject, “dinner is done… We should probably eat… Would you guys like the same drinks as before or something different? I also have some food for Sadaharu, too. I decided to buy some dog food just in case something like this happened.”

“Y/N is amazing! Sadaharu says thank you!”

“Not a problem, Sadaharu,” you giggled at her enthusiasm, putting everyone’s food down in front of them.

“Thanks for putting up with them,” Gin whispered as he sat next to you, taking a bite of his own food, “they’re annoying but they do really mean a lot to me… It means a lot to me that you guys can get along so well.”

“I love spending time with everyone, so it’s really not an issue.” You nuzzled into his arm gently, smiling as everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

#gintama #gintama imagines #gintama headcannons #gintama imagine #gintama headcanon #gintama headcannon #gintama headcanons #gintama scenarios #gintama scenario #reader insert #reader #x reader #text post #sfw #gintoki x reader #gintama gintoki #gintoki sakata #sakata gintoki

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theyarebothgunshot · 4 years ago

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jib 6 breakdown and analysis

standard disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.

if i would have to give this panel a signifier, i would say this is the panel of the inside jokes. it’s the panel that shows us how well they know each other, to the point that they finish each other’s sentences and start telling the same punchline to a joke at the same time.

but besides all of that, it was also the panel of the shoulder touches, husband behavior, and rescuer misha. let’s dive into it.

i adore the fact that they are laughing and joking with each other from the first second they get on stage. the way that they tell that story about how they planned to have misha nap and have jensen drink whisky and humm, really reminds me of something that i mentioned a lot during my jib 7 analysis: they are very much in sync.

jensen slinging his arm around misha of course had to be compensated with a manly face and manly grip. the rituals… i know they are intricate.

it’s kind of cute how misha tried to both encourage jensen to try that step, and wanted to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself lmao. dare i say husband behavior? (i do dare and i will do it again, bam bam!)

something about the way they talk about j*red just makes me feel like they are such a team, if that makes sense? like, they both think the same things about j*red’s antics and talk in such a united way about it (“and jensen and i were like…” “i don’t even care. he [points at misha] doesn’t care.”) that it just sounds kind of coupley to me. *whispers* husband behavior.

i love that jensen’s first instinct after talking about missing j*red was to go over to misha, put his hand on his shoulder, and talk about his fucking flirting way of pranking misha versus j*red’s painful pranking of misha. “with you it’s like my friend and protector is....” i truly wish the audience wasn’t as loud as they were in that moment because i would love to fully hear that sentence.

the look on jensen’s face when misha says “save it for when we take off our pants” is just priceless. ‘oh god here we go again, when will he ever learn’ but the funny thing is, he will make the same face later on in the panel, after talking about riding a dragon. that’s the face he makes when one of them goes slightly too far. just thought that was interesting.

what stands out to me the most is his reaction when misha turns around just as he is ‘fake unbuttoning’ his pants like: ‘i’m just kidding i’m innocent’ literally no reason to respond like that if misha is just his buddy.

misha’s “what are you doing?” as jensen is tying his flannel around his waist also stands out to me. he clearly does not like the look and can’t keep his mouth shut (“that was bothering me too”). why would you find the need to comment on your buddy’s fashion choice. (....husband behavior.)

just wanna take a moment to say that it’s very fucking funny that jensen said “don’t take selfies” when you know that just a few years later he would take the chest to chest selfie with misha. oh, jensen.

we have all heard the “jensen pranks misha on set by flirting with him” story countless of times, but it’s still funny to me how flustered misha seems to get by the fact that jensen can get to him that easily. and jensen’s laugh here is so cute, he fully knows what he is doing.

misha jokes that he spends more time sunning on rocks now as a merman than he used to, and jensen immediately starts to walk to the apple juice, something i have noticed that he does whenever he wants to avoid something (be it a question or a situation that’s happening on stage). it almost feels like he is stopping himself from making a comment or something. it’s interesting, because he just turns right back around and starts telling the grasshopper joke without getting anything to drink.

which leads to one of my favorite moments between them: misha, beaming, says that he has heard it before but he wants to hear it again, and mouths the words to the punchline along with jensen. he looks at the audience as if to say ‘good one, right?’ and when jensen goes “is this thing on?” misha immediately tries to distract him from his failed joke by using an inside joke (the first inside joke of the panel) with him. aka good husband behavior.

something tells me that “i’ll see you again, grasshopper” is another inside joke, so we’re counting it: number two.

jensen. jensen pspsps come here. can you please explain to me why you are so horny for misha’s indianrussian accent? i cannot believe him (i can), trying to get him to use the accent to ‘help the girl in the audience’.

so uhm. i think i just heard something while i was rewatching this panel that i never caught before. when misha reads what is on the box that was put on stage, he says: ‘please take this box and open later in private - daniella.’ and jensen goes: ‘yeah that’s from me’ with a flirty Look on his face like. hello??? why have i never seen anybody talk about this??? i’m??? internally screaming??? rest assured i had to take 5 when i saw this shit.

can we take a second to appreciate the fact that jensen gave misha a once over when misha says the glitter is everywhere, and then jensen said “fairy herpes”. why did your mind go to a sexual reference jensen? why? (we know why).

“i hate when you get that look in your eyes. don’t! i’m sorry!” is one of the most coupley things to say, ever. just wanted to point that out.

i love the playful vibe they have during this portion of the panel: jensen asking misha what he will do for the audience (thinly veiled excuse for wanting misha to do something that jensen will also enjoy), throwing the rings at misha, both of them “panicking” and lapping up the spilled apple juice.

look, i couldn’t not include the shirt lift. i had to. especially because of the way he looks at misha afterwards lmao and misha, darling misha, tries to defuse the situation by making a joke and it works because of course jensen does his signature unicorn laugh. sidenote: how cute is jackles when he grabs the guitar, begging people to erase the picture jsfhs. gotta love that man.

“you done messed up” inside joke number 3.

you know what is funny to me? the fact that jensen and misha often pretend not to know certain things about each other when they are on stage together. one example of this is during the underbear debacle, when jensen asks misha to proof he wears orange underwear and pretends he is shocked, even though the whole world knows that misha wears orange underwear.

in this panel, it happens twice. the first time is here, when misha asks jensen ‘do you actually not smell?’ as if he isn’t one of the people in this world who would know that best. and then he, of course, immediately takes this opportunity to sniff jensen’s armpit. i mean. okay. which is extra funny because jackles doesn’t play along with the whole ‘i have no clue’ bit and just goes “yeah you’re not a stinker” without checking because, clearly, he already knows.

i love jensen’s little smirk when he hears misha’s dragon would be pink + misha’s reaction to it.

before i read this post i always thought jensen meant that his own dragon would be salmon colored. but now i think that it’s not far fetched to believe jensen was actually thinking about the fact that he has stated he was wearing a salmon shirt. which means that, in this moment right here, he was implying that instead of pink, misha’s dragon (aka jensen) would be salmon. which makes his reaction (looking down, laughing but shaking his head as if he can’t believe himself) very understandable. remember what i said about that being the face he makes when one of them takes it too far? yeah.

but then, something happens that is quite remarkable to me. instead of backing down from what he said, he fully commits to it. he turns to misha, and goes “if i could ride a dragon”. listen to the way he puts extra weight behind “ride” and “dragon”.

then he asks if he understands the question correctly and repeats “what would it look like?”, the girl in the audience says “yes, but also any special abilities…” but jensen just ignores that because obviously, in his head the dragon is misha and he is not gonna shake that thought process any time soon. so naturally, he goes “i think my dragon that i would want to…” but stops JUST before saying “ride”, the guy KNEW what he was sounding like. lmao jensen i gotta give it to you buddy, good effort. you did well. you came far. you even said “look, i’m just gonna go for it here” even though misha’s face speaks volumes. i love you for that. because everything that came out of your mouth right then sounded very not straight.

in fact, it’s only because of misha’s interference (a reoccurring thing during these panels) that he stops himself completely and goes to talk with misha. i really wonder what would have happened if misha didn’t stop him. i also REALLY wonder what misha and jensen discussed when they turned their backs to the audience. sigh.

now we get to the juicy stuff. jensen’s little slip up here is really really strange, when you think about it. he says “i have kids” before quickly covering that up with “i have a kid now.” i’m not saying the ackles and the collins are one big happy family or anything like that, but i do think that they are close enough for him to slip up like this. maybe the kids hang out together a lot. maybe they have given each other enough support during those early days of raising kids that it sometimes feels like he had multiple kids at that point in time. idk. but in any case, i don’t think that’s a slip up you’d make unless there was some sort of truth in it. he also kind of stumbles over his words right after that. [before anybody runs to my inbox to tell me that j/2 tinhatters think this is about him and j*red raising their kids together: trust me, i know, but we’re not talking about that.]

misha’s cheeky “i thought you were talking about danneel” followed by the both of them simultaneously saying that jensen does not tell her what to do, made me grin like a fool. that is all.

the way jensen says “misha, apparently you were looking pale and you need some sugar. there you go.” is so SOFT AND CUTE idek how to explain what i am feeling but it’s just. a lot. oh wait a minute, i do know what to call it: HUSBAND behavior.

“by the way we’re gonna pay so dearly when we get home” “yeah we are” lmao the jdmv vibes are strong in this one.

look. i know it’s possible that misha woke up alone after that dream, thought to himself ‘i miss her’, went for breakfast, saw jensen, and told this story to him verbatim. but misha is literally telling the story from the pov of waking up from a dream and saying that out loud. it would make sense that he would explain that dream to the person who he woke up with, and that he would follow the dream explanation up with “i miss her”. plus jensen is REPEATING IT as if he was right there when misha said that. add to that the way jackles stumbles over his words here and gets flustered and sits down? and misha’s face? yeah. you done messed up jackles, part 2.

jensen doesn’t know what to do with himself. just look at his face right after he sits down. and misha, once again, comes to the rescue, trying to continue the conversation about poop in order to distract both jensen and the audience. bless his soul.

it leads to the second instance of misha pretending that he doesn’t know something about jensen, namely that jensen can’t stand poop even from his own daughter. misha goes: “no? not for you?” as if he didn’t already know that.

round of applause for the jib team, for putting on ‘this thing called love’ to get jensen and misha to dance……. just saying.

jensen’s little nod to misha right here? husband telepathic communication at its finest. even their silly dad dances are in sync.

jackles you are NOT being slick we can SEE you tossing the mic to your other hand so you can pull misha in by the waist (or honestly maybe his hand landed lower idk idk it’s possible).

it really is something special, though, what happened right here: jensen, macho masculine grumpy performative jensen, is smiling and laughing and enjoying dancing on stage, doing some ballet moves, all because of misha (and by some extent felicia). not just with felicia or by himself, but with rob, osric, etc. honestly it’s heartwarming to watch. it makes me smile so much.

and that was jib 6. thanks for reading everybody <3

#cockles #jib 6 #i used a different method to add the timestamps and i really hope it works this time #as always please feel free to share your thoughts ! <3

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2460nodone · 4 years ago

Text

Trophies

Title: Trophies Category: Plays/Musicals » Les Misérables Author: AliceInSomewhereland Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Drama/Romance Published: 05-19-13, Updated: 05-19-13 Chapters: 1, Words: 3,671

Summary: They meet on their respective fields - his, baseball, and hers, soccer - and it changes everything. Enjonine modern AU for the Fic War on tumblr! Oneshot, rated T for language.

originally written for the e/e fic war and posted to ffnet. prompted with “soccer AU, baseball AU” by tumblr user samthenardier.

Chapter 1/1

He's not quite sure when he first noticed her.

Perhaps it was the weekend Courfeyrac hit the ball out of their diamond, and, as he played in the outfield, she reached him first to return it. He hardly paid her any mind, only nodding in thanks. She was clearly just as busy as he, covered in dirt and soaked with sweat, her shin guards smeared with grass stains.

Perhaps it was the weekend that it rained. Bahorel and Grantaire, playing on his team that weekend, were highly distracted when the women with whom she was playing declared their match to be shirts versus skins. She seemed to be the chief in insisting that it be the girls who played as skins, against the shirted boys.

The boys on his baseball team couldn't help but stare as the girls stripped, their shorts rolled low on their hips and clinging to their thighs in the rain, their tops bare, save for their soaked-through sports bras.

He noticed that she and her friends were frequently shooting glances in the direction of the baseball diamond, delighting and giggling when his teammates and opponents fawned over them.

Perhaps he noticed her the weekend that it was so hot they almost had to cancel – she, again, was shirtless, but this time her sports bra was soaked with sweat. They watched as she poured cold water over her face and head and shoulders – his teammates with hunger and desire, he with disinterest.

Perhaps it was the weekend he saw her running to their diamond, soccer ball under her arm and her hand entwined with another girl's, one with dusky skin and dark hair. They sat in the bleachers, watching and cheering and laughing. It was quite distracting. Afterwards, he watched as she made a beeline to Marius, just as Joly and Bossuet appeared to be racing to talk to her friend first.

He paid her little to no mind, though he did notice when she wasn't there sometimes, especially because his baseball team (and often their visiting competition) and the eternal pick-up soccer game that she participated in often went out for drinks together after their respective games were over. It seemed oddly quiet when she wasn't there, rare though that was, but it also irritated him when she was there, because she spent the whole damn time mooning over Marius and trying to get that freckled fool to pay attention to her.

He never bothered to interact with her; in fact, he didn't even know her name. Nor did he try to learn it. Whenever she came into his peripherals, he merely acknowledged her mentally as "Marius' Shadow."

However, everything changed when he was leaving the park one day, and came across her corned up against a tree, an older man who must have been her father screaming in her face as she cowed. When the man hit her across the face, he lost it.

He dropped his things, and suddenly he was next to her, then in between her and the man, then shoving the man away and shouting things that he didn't remember later. They tousled briefly, resulting in a bloody nose on his face and a black eye on the old man. The man stormed away, screaming and cursing at them.

When he turned, he didn't even have time to react before she slapped him sharply across the face. It left him momentarily dumb; he wasn't sure whether to pinch his nose to stop the bleeding or hold his smarting cheek. Then she was shouting at him.

"I don't want your help! I'm not some sort of damsel in distress that needs rescuing from some bourgeois knight in shining armor!" She shoved him, though it was hardly strong.

Her lip was bleeding and was starting to swell from where the man hit her.

Ten minutes later, he was in the dugout, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Hey," a voice said behind him, startling him. He turned, and there she was – fat lip, messy dark hair, long, thin legs and a torso hidden by an oversized jersey. She held a plastic bag in her hand.

He just sniffed blood, trying to keep it from running down his face more, and stared at her. He was hardly forgiving; if she resented his interference, he wouldn't interfere. He had a bloody nose and probably a black eye (try explaining that one at work tomorrow), all because he was trying to help her. So as far as he was concerned, they had no reason, especially now, to interact at all. He wanted nothing from her.

"Sit down," she ordered. Her tone surprised him; it reminded him of how his mother or his teachers would talk to him as a child. He wondered where she picked it up. Then he sat.

She put the bag on the bench beside him, digging around inside. From it, she pulled gauze, an ice pack, hydrogen peroxide, and band-aids. Without a word, she began mopping up the blood on his face.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on the blood that was still gushing from his nose.

He shrugged.

"It was my dad. It wasn't the first time," she told him quietly. He wondered why she was telling him this; from the look on her face, she was wondering the same thing. Then, "I'm Eponine. Eponine Jondrette."

He regarded her for a moment, and she finally met his eyes. They were a beautiful, bright brown, flecked with gold, but were dark and angry from the memories that were undoubtedly cycling through her mind. He looked at her lips; dried blood had trickled onto her chin, though she hadn't seemed to notice.

"Enjolras," he said. "Gabriel Enjolras."

Eponine's lips twitched into a small smile, then she got back to work on cleaning him up.

When she was finished, she threw the first aid supplies into her backpack. "I'll buy you a beer," she offered, "as a thanks – and an apology."

He's not quite sure why he kissed her.

It was several months after the day he fought her father.

They were heading off to the park together. His league's season was over, but he and his friends still met each weekend for pickup games. She had wormed her way into his friend group, and they had invited her along, eager to teach her how to play baseball. In return, she was going to teach them a little bit about soccer.

She met him on the corner near his apartment – it was more convenient for her to cut through his neighborhood to reach the park, as she lived a few blocks away.

"We need to run to my place," she said when he found her, not bothering to greet him. "I would've gone alone, but my phone was dead and I didn't want you to think I was ditching you.

Though they lived relatively close together, there was a marked difference between his neighborhood and hers. His was more affluent – he was a lawyer, the only son in a wealthy family, and therefore, his apartment was large and well decorated and safe.

Eponine's apartment, however, was one room of a giant, sketchy-looking complex. She joked that this was where the meth-heads came to die.

He worried for her safety.

Inside, however, she had done her best to make the place comfortable. It was colorful, but tasteful – very bohemian, but it worked because it was so Eponine.

She had hung curtains to separate her small bed from the rest of the room, and disappeared behind them for a few moments.

When she reemerged, she beckoned him over. "Enj, these are my soccer trophies from high school. I was being scouted for college, being offered scholarships and even full rides, but then I blew out my knee."

He hadn't known. He knew she was good, but not that she could have started in college. Nor did he know that her knee had ruined her opportunity to get out of – well, out of this life. It broke his heart; she could have truly been something quite incredible. She was smart, she was driven and talented, but lacking the resources to rise out of the life she so despised. To have come so close, only to have an ill-timed physical issue rip her chances away – he couldn't even imagine.

"That sucks, Ep, I'm so sorry," he told her sincerely.

She smiled warmly, though he could see a touch of bitterness in her eyes. "Whatever," she shrugged, "I have all these crazy trophies for my trouble!"

And she did. There must have been more than 30 of all colors and sizes, from participation awards to tournament placements to MVP's.

"My collection would totally kick your collection's ass," he teased, nudging her with his elbow. "I was given a partial scholarship to play in college. I wanted to go pro. I didn't have time for anything else, not even girls. My entire life revolved around baseball and school."

She looked at him. "What happened?"

He stared straight ahead at a trophy she had won her sophomore year of high school for most valuable player. "My priorities changed," was all he said. He could hear the hardness in his own voice; out of the corner of his eye, he saw her searching for something on his face before she turned back towards the trophies. He cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, reaching out and touching a medal, "all my trophies are at my parents' house."

"I like having mine home with me," was Eponine's soft reply.

He looked at her. There was a faraway look on her face, an absent smile on her lips. "They help me remember a time when I was happy." She seemed to be talking to herself now, and he wondered if she remembered he was there.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, all of a sudden, and he felt something building inside of him that was foreign and, if he had to admit it, a little frightening.

When she turned to him, a questioning look on her face and an inquiry forming on her lips, he kissed her, swallowing whatever it was she was about to say. She responded immediately against him, and he pulled her body flush against his instinctually when her lips parted against his.

He's not quite sure why he slept with her.

He had never been with a woman before.

And she was vulnerable; he couldn't shake the feeling that he had taken advantage of her.

Marius and his girlfriend, the perfect, blonde Cosette, had gotten engaged.

Eponine had showed up at his door, in tears and completely inconsolable. So he ordered pizza, and ran to the liquor store around the corner for a bottle of Jack.

Three hours later, she was straddling him on his couch and kissing him wildly, half the bottle abandoned on the table behind her.

The whole experience, as intoxicating and wonderful as it was, was like being with a hurricane. It was wet and strong and dangerous, but he loved every second of it.

When he woke the next morning, she was in his kitchen, dressed in one of his t-shirts, making breakfast.

She kissed him good morning.

He's not quite sure when he fell in love with her.

They were out all night.

It was a warm night, in the middle of spring, a summery breeze sweeping through her hair and toying with the hem of her dress as she skipped around him.

Eponine didn't want to go home, and had talked him into staying out with her all night and going down to the docks to watch the sunrise.

"I've never seen the city when it sleeps," she had said.

They weren't together, per se, but Marius was married and Eponine was putting him behind her and now whenever she saw Enjolras she kissed him. He didn't hate it.

They had sat on the docks, swinging their bare feet inches above the water.

She grabbed his hand, humming a song into the wind. She was being strange; it was that mix of happiness and sadness that he'd learned to associate with her. Like she's almost ready to be happy, almost ready to let go of her problems, but she just can't.

She took his hand as the pre-dawn sky turns purple.

She kissed his cheek and then his lips when it turns pink.

When it turned orange, its bright glow lights up her face.

When the sun broke free of the water, she laughed. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

And that was when he knew: he'd fallen for her.

He's not quite sure why she wouldn't let him save her.

Eponine was stubborn, and always refused his help. He frequently reminded her that it was his job to help people, that it was his calling, but she would just snap at him that "a calling is a thing for entitled bourgeois boys," and that those he was "called" to help did not always want it.

When her little brother died, hit by a car in the middle of the night, he was not sure she'd ever come back to him.

She pushed him away. Stopped seeing him, stopped meeting him for baseball or soccer, stopped coming to his games and stopped showing up to her own. She wouldn't even answer her calls. Nor would she talk to any of her other friends.

Musichetta, her soccer friend, and Joly were dating, and even Musichetta had not heard from her in weeks.

When he finally saw her again, her face was gaunt. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, and hadn't eaten in weeks. Her already thin frame clung to her bones, her cheeks were sunken in, her hair was dirty and unkempt, and her hollow eyes had dark circles.

He didn't know how to save her, but for god's sake he tried.

He's not quite sure why she left him.

It isn't fair – that's the only thought that's cycling through his mind right now.

He's been sitting in this chair for, well, he doesn't even know how long. His friends keep coming to check on him, but he barely hears them. They can't say anything helpful anyway. They don't know.

All he can think of is her, of those precious moments by her side, as he stares straight ahead.

Directly in front of him is her casket. And he can't take his eyes off it, off her lifeless body laying there for those attending the wake to gawk and cry over.

He can't cry, he can't eat, he can't feel. He briefly wonders if this was how it was for her when little Gavroche was killed, and if that was the straw that broke the camel's back in her life.

He wonders, much more extensively, why he couldn't save her. He was always reminding her that saving people was all he wanted to do. He just wanted to help.

Why hadn't he been able to help her?

It was a sunny afternoon. They were sitting on the stairs of her fire escape. She was under his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Not everyone wants to be saved, Enj," she told him. "Not everyone will let you."

"As long as you let me save you, that's fine," he replied.

She said nothing for a long while. "It might be too late for that," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

And it was. It was far too late.

She was gone.

The only woman he had ever loved, ever cared for, ever had time for, was dead.

This was a woman who had opened up an entire new world for him, and he would never see her again.

He's not sure what comes next; now that he's lived in this world of hers, he isn't sure if he can live without her.

When he's angry at her, angrier than he's ever been before, he curses her name, screaming at her ghost for leaving him behind, for ruining his life.

He hates her; she destroyed everything about him, everything he was, and left this empty shell behind. He was fine before - he didn't know what he was missing, and ignorance truly was bliss. He was settled in his life. But then she appeared in it, and turned it upside-down.

He tries to breathe.

Azlema, her younger sister, walks up to him.

She wraps herself around him, and he lets her, squeezing her tightly. She, of course, knew Eponine too (in a way that his friends didn't), and just as he lost the love of his life, she lost her older sister - and her baby brother. So she understands.

"She loved you, Enjolras," Azelma murmurs, her voice shaking with emotion and thick with the tears that spill from her eyes. "I know she never told you, but she told me. She loved you, and she would've wanted you to know."

He cries.

He's not quite sure how he picks up the pieces.

It's been forever, but it's also been no time at all.

His nights are cold and lonely, and his days are torture.

Grantaire has moved in with him, though perhaps that wasn't the best decision on the part of his friends, as the other man is so full of anger and sadness himself that all they do is spend their time drinking.

Combeferre seems to catch on, because then he comes to stay, too.

Suddenly, he's forced to eat the food Combeferre has cooked. He's forced to look at Grantaire's artwork and give his opinions, he's forced to go to work and do a good job again.

He's forced to look at her photographs every day (but that one he does to himself), too. In them, she seems happy. She's bright and beautiful and alive. God, she used to be so alive, even when she was miserable, even when she was depressed. She could be in the worst mood, but being around her was like being in the middle of a beautiful storm.

He misses that.

Eventually, Courfeyrac convinces him to come play a pickup game.

It feels good, being back on the diamond. The power of the ball as it flies from his hand, the feel of the wind in his face as he runs from plate to plate. He especially likes being at bat, because smacking that fucking ball into oblivion is suddenly the most therapeutic thing.

And then the game is over and his friends leave and he's slamming his stupid bat into the ground, raging in the middle of the field, screaming at her at the top of his lungs and undoubtedly causing quite the scene.

He collapses, and then someone is there – Jehan, perhaps? – speaking to him, trying to calm him.

But what does it is Eponine.

No, she's not there, of course, but he sees her team playing soccer on the next field. Or maybe it's a different team, he isn't sure if her friends play here anymore.

He looks up into the overcast sky, closing his eyes to the clouds, and can almost hear her laughter carried to him on the wind.

He goes home, pulls out the trophies he took from her apartment and those he took from his parents' house. He places them in pairs around the apartment, wherever they fit - his next to hers and hers next to his wherever he can find the room for them.

"They help me remember a time when I was happy," she had said that first time he kissed her.

And she was right.

There they were, once again – playing baseball, playing soccer together, just like when they had become friends. This time, however, their endless games were in his apartment. But looking at their trophies together was, for some stupid reason, extremely comforting. It made him feel like she was there, in these dumb objects she had been so proud of.

He sees her in them. They make him think of her. And he misses her, he does, but she would want him to be okay.

She would want him to keep on playing, because she wasn't able to.

And that's exactly what he's going to do.

Fin.

#enjonine #enjonine fanfic #enjonine fic #enjonine fanfiction #e/e #é/e #eponine x enjolras #enjolras x eponine

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

Barbecue

This story is @godsliltippy ‘s fault. It was spawned in an Animal Crossing game, apparently, and she mentioned the concept to me and immediately sparked an idea. I feel what resulted isn’t quite what she had in mind, but I’m not in control here, sorry :D In fact, the whole thing turned into a weird ramble about Tracys really rather than a cohesive story.

I posted the beginning of this a while back when my muse took a hit and refused to write anymore. As it was never planned to be anything but one chapter, I have posted it as a whole now that it is finished. So you might find that you’ve already read the first bit. Sorry. Skip to the origami scene, dinner being served and you’ll find the new stuff.

Thank you to @scribbles97 for the read through and support :D

I hope you enjoy this mostly Tracy fluff :D

-o-o-o-

It wasn’t often that the Tracys got together as a family. Sure, they lived on an island together, saw each other every day and even worked together. But there was a big difference between sharing a room versus sharing an event.

This time around, it wasn’t a special day or anything in particular, but Gordon had decided that the family needed some down time, had sweet talked Grandma who had the power to make it happen and International Rescue had been shut down for an evening.

John was dragged down from orbit a few days earlier so he could actually walk without his gravity assistance. When he complained, Grandma tore him a new one.

He didn’t comment after that, though Gordon swore he heard Eos laughing at him at one point.

Gordon thought it would be somewhat scary to have an AI laughing at you, but John just rolled his eyes and glared laser beams at his fish brother when he realised he was watching.

Johnny was such a soft target, but his revenge was lethal.

Gordon decided on a hasty retreat.

It was a simple barbecue on the beach down by one of the huts. A chance to laze on the sand, chat and just be family.

Now that Dad was home, their family was almost whole.

There would be no daring, to-the-ends-of-the-solar-system rescue for their mother. It just wasn’t something they could fix, so technically they would never be entirely whole again, but things were what they were and Gordon preferred to think positive.

The alternative sucked.

So, barbecue on the beach. Barbecue usually meant Virgil was cooking, but Two had been called out on a rescue just after lunch and that was following the one before lunch and the one after breakfast.

Scott had gone with Virg earlier and Gordon even earlier, but the second eldest waved him away on the third. It was a simple one. He would be back in time to turn the burgers.

He wasn’t.

It was left to John to fend off both Scott and Grandma, as neither were allowed near the barbecue. And while John was a bit more of a connoisseur than Virgil with his burgers perfected rather than barbecued, he still managed a great steak.

Whereas Scott would burn it.

Alan wasn’t allowed near the food otherwise no one else would get any.

Gordon did the salads. He was one to do things to carrots that no one else would think of. Even Virgil admired his radish roses and the salad dressings he created. Kayo sometimes helped him and today was one of those days.

Scott was usually tasked with furniture set up, but today he was hovering in the comms room keeping an eye on Virgil.

After all, three rescues in one day was a hefty workload.

And Dad? Well, Scott got his worry wart genes from somewhere.

“Is he on his way back?” Gordon strode into the comms room to find his father seated at his desk and Scott hovering like a lost soul, both staring at the holoprojector and a hologram of what was obviously Two’s external camera. Virgil was wearing his exo-suit and hauling several large containers onto his ‘bird.

He looked tired.

Gordon frowned. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Gordon. Packing up now.” It was still weird when Dad answered a question like that and not Scott.

Especially when there was a furrow on his eldest brother’s forehead.

Dad noticed Gordon’s gaze and looked over at Scott. “He’s fine, son. You worry too much.” Their father swiped at a secondary hologram on the desk, pushed his chair back and stood up. His cane rattled against the chair as he grabbed it to make his way over to Scott.

Who was still frowning. “Sorry, Dad. Just three in a row. He’s supposed to be home.”

“It’s the nature of the business.”

Scott looked at his father as if to say ‘Really?’

Dad cleared his throat. “Hmm, you have a point.” He straightened. “But we have to trust Virgil when he says he is okay.”

Scott’s grunt was non-committal.

Dad dropped a hand onto Scott’s shoulder. “He’s coming home and he’s staying home.”

Scott continued to stare at the hologram of his brother in the centre of the room. It was obvious Scott obviously wanted to skip all that and just have Virgil safe on the Island.

Scott wasn’t very good at waiting.

“Hey, Scotty, can you help Alan with the table?” At least it would have his brother doing something for a few minutes. By then Virgil would be in the air and on his way home.

“Sure.” But it was distracted and those eyes still hadn’t left the hologram.

As if on cue there was the sound of breaking glass and a number of rather offensive words from the kitchen.

As Scott moved almost as fast as his ‘bird, Gordon bit his lip and secretly applauded Kayo’s back up plan.

It worked. By the time Scott felt secure enough to let Kayo loose in the kitchen by herself again – Gordon swore she play acted the scene, any other time a brother would be dead for questioning her capabilities – Thunderbird Two could be heard on approach and all that was left to do was for Scott to run down to the hangars to check on his brother in person.

It was worth the milk jug and the clean-up.

As expected, Virgil was fine. A little tired, yes, but functional and looking forward to the evening on the beach.

He cleaned himself up, donned his flannel civvies and wandered down to the beach.

There was much discussion between John and the tired engineer about burgers until Gordon rounded up Virgil and set him doing fancy things with paper napkins.

If they ended up with fifty swans, twenty parakeets and forty-odd doves, he didn’t care. It was obvious Virgil was beat, running on a post rescue high and just needed something to do. The fact he was somewhat of an origami addict just worked in Gordon’s favour.

It also helped that Grandma sat with Virgil to keep him company.

Dinner was cooked and served. There was a bounty of food. If Gordon knew one thing it was that the key to a good get together was food and lots of it.

John’s steaks and burgers were divine as always, though lacking the char Virgil usually gave them. Gordon had a second helping, regardless.

Scott was still keeping an eye on Virgil, but their engineer brother seemed fine, stuffing food in his face at his usual muscle building rate.

Gordon kept an eye on Scott, noting that the eldest couldn’t seem to drop his concern.

Gordon toyed with the idea of asking Grandma to stall IR for the next day as well. The eldest two could do with a day off, obviously.

He’d talk to her later.

Dessert was an ice cream concoction with just enough alcohol and fruit in it to tickle the senses, topped with a crisp meringue. Basically, it was enough sugar to fuel a Thunderbird.

Which it did. All five brothers definitely appeared brighter after the meal and it was Scott of all people who suggested they go for a swim.

Gordon could never say no to that.

Private islands had their uses and the beach hut had change rooms and supplies for exactly this reason. Hiking all the way up the hill to the villa was not needed. Even Grandma had her own stash of swimwear down here and it was with some vivacity that the family descended on the hut and shed their clothing.

Except for Gordon who had come fully prepared because he was Gordon and there was a beach involved. So, it was with some amusement that he volunteered to tidy up the table while everyone changed clothes.

Scott stared at him for a full ten seconds obviously wondering if he needed to fetch a medical scanner.

Gordon just poked out his tongue and started collecting plates.

Their father had spent a great deal of time in the water since he had returned. Gordon actually enjoyed that fact. It gave him the opportunity to spend time with a man who had not only been missing for eight years, but prior to that had been mostly too busy to take a swim with his son.

There had been talks. Lots of talks. Even a few fragile moments.

The water gave his dad physical support that was sorely needed. John was known to take to the pool or the ocean for the same reason. Alan not so much. The baby of the family was not a water one. He enjoyed it, but his preferred environment involved rocket fuel and orbital stats.

Ultimately all the Tracys liked a fun dip in their private lagoon. Though, if he was honest, Gordon wondered if his brothers would be so eager to stick their toes in the water if they knew of the visitors the caldera sometimes received. He smirked to himself as Alan emerged from the hut, ran yelling down the slope, and barrelled into the water.

Gordon grinned. They weren’t dumb, but the aquanaut had installed certain sensors in the lagoon for a reason. It was his job to protect his family in the ocean, after all.

Scott wandered down the slope at an easier pace. He was wearing blue board shorts and displaying far more tanned skin than most of them.

John didn’t even bother and left his t-shirt on. Obviously taking no chances even though the sun was almost setting. His arms and legs still glowed and Gordon was hard put not to poke fun.

His astronaut brother must have picked up the vibes because he glared as he stalked past.

Grandma stepped down lightly beside their father, both wearing shirts. Dad had unspoken issues about the condition of his body and Grandma claimed that she couldn’t compete with the GQ covers surrounding her.

As far as he was concerned, Gordon was just happy they were there and having fun.

Because they were.

Grandma helped their dad onto the beach and then took a running jump into the water, her strong stroke chasing the eldest out into the lagoon.

It was Kayo who stopped at the edge with their father. Beaches were notorious for transmitting sound and, as he gathered dishes, Gordon could hear her soft voice even at this distance.

She was speaking Malay ever so quietly.

His father replied in the same.

Surprised Gordon couldn’t help glancing in their direction. She was looking up at his father with an expression of such gentleness, her hand on his arm. Gordon’s heart swelled and he looked away. He knew his sister had always been close with their father, but she was usually far from demonstrative. Tin’s early life had done so much to shape who she was today.

Gordon had a hate for her uncle that reached far beyond his own personal injury.

He finished stacking the picnic crockery and cutlery to the tune of the playful sounds in the bay. A quick wash of his hands in rainwater and he turned to face the lagoon.

His father was floating beside Tin and they were obviously having a private conversation. Scott, Alan, John and Grandma were apparently having a race. Gordon stared at that activity for a full moment, noting stroke strength and style. As always, Grandma was the most efficient, but the two older brothers outpaced her simply on strength and youth. Alan’s heart didn’t seem to be in it at all, but then Allie was secretly a softie when it came to Grandma and was probably losing on purpose.

He shared that with Virgil but for entirely different reasons. Virgil looked after Grandma. Grandma looked after Allie and was really the only maternal parent his little brother knew.

Not that he would ever admit any of it. Virgil was obvious. Alan was still far too teenager to admit to anything.

Gordon frowned. Speaking of Virgil, where the hell was the big softie?

Gordon’s eyes tracked over the water. What the hell? There was no sign of him.

He had come down, hadn’t he?

Gordon spun on the spot, hackles rising, eyes scanning the beach, the trail and the hut.

He thumbed his collar. “Eos, do you have a location on Virgil?”

“Hello, Gordon. Virgil is in Beach Hut Number Seven. His comms have been removed from his body and hence security-disabled. I really wish you and your brothers wouldn’t do that. It is disconcerting.”

Gordon didn’t acknowledge the AI, instead darting up the path to the hut.

As with everything on Tracy Island, the rustic little structure was more than it seemed. Security sensors recognised him as he touched the door and allowed him entrance. He swung it open and entered what equated to a mixture of storage facility and functional outpost. From here, any member of the family could get to the hangars fast via a hidden monorail system underground. It was one of several collection points dotted around the Island for sudden callouts.

But it also doubled as short-term shelter and basically a place to stash stuff. From swimwear to water sports equipment to art materials, the not so little huts held all sorts of things.

But the one thing Gordon was looking for was a heavy lifting brother.

He poked through the change cubicles. “Virgil?” It was quiet except for the sounds of the breeze and the ocean in the distance echoing through the still open door.

And the soft sound of snoring.

Really?

He found the last cubicle locked and had to jimmy the door to get it open.

Each change cubicle contained a bench and that is where his found his big brother.

Virgil had somehow managed to curl up on the far too small ledge and was fast asleep.

Gordon let out a sigh of relief suddenly realising exactly how worried he had actually been at his brother’s sudden absence.

The sigh fast turned into a fond smile as the worry slipped away. Not only was Virgil asleep in an odd spot, but he appeared to have fallen into slumber while undressing. His boots lay discarded to one side and his flannel shirt hung from a hook along with his grey t-shirt. But his jeans were still half on, down around his knees. It was almost as if he had sat down to remove them and tipped sideways on the bench, curling up against the wall half naked.

Gordon’s smile turned into a frown.

It would have been prime humour material involving photographs and eternal ribbing if it wasn’t for one factor.

Bruises.

His brother had a number of them down one side. What the hell?

Gordon stepped closer. None looked serious by themselves, but there were enough to suggest Virgil had taken a fall of some kind earlier in the day. An unreported fall. Gordon bit his lip. Unless…

A clatter of wet feet and Scott was suddenly there beside him, dripping on the floor. “What happened?”

Gordon shrugged. “Looks like he fell asleep while getting undressed.” He eyed his brother. “Did he report a fall?”

Scott took a step closer, staring at the bruises on Virgil’s torso. “Yes, but none of this.” A frustrated breath. “Hell, Virg.”

As if responding to his name, Virgil snorted in his sleep and tried to roll over.

And promptly fell off the bench.

Both Scott and Gordon lunged in to catch him, awkwardly scooping up limbs and important body parts, desperate to stop him from hitting the concrete. The man did not need any more contusions.

All three ended up on the floor. And while Virgil hadn’t acquired any more bruising, Gordon’s knees certainly had and there was a definite elbow to his collar bone that was likely to sprout something a little purple at least.

“Virg, wake up.” Scott’s voice was definitely in commander mode, but still soft with that brotherly worry that seemed to be ingrained in his personality.

Another snort and dopey brown eyes opened. There was little behind them for a full moment as they stared up at Scott who was still holding his brother against his chest.

Virgil blinked as water dripped on him. “Wha-?”

“You fell asleep, bro. In your underwear.”

“Wha’ the hell? Ugh, you’re all wet.” Virgil struggled to sit up. Both Scott and Gordon sat back and let their brother right himself.

Sitting up, Virgil let his back fall against the bench and sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit, sorry.”

Gordon could hear the creak of his eldest brother’s frown beside him. “And so you should be. What is this?” Scott pointed at the bruises decorating Virgil’s right side.

The engineer blinked and looked down at himself. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Why weren’t they reported?”

An arched eyebrow as Virgil looked back up at his brother. “They’re just bruises. It was a busy day.” Those brown eyes latched onto Scott. “I’m okay.”

“You fell asleep while changing your clothes.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m a little tired.” But then his eyes turned to Gordon. “I just didn’t want to miss out on the party.”

Gordon’s heart twitched at the honesty in those eyes. “You idiot. We could have done it tomorrow.”

Virgil looked down at his feet. “Probably would have been called out again.”

Gordon huffed. “No, Virgil, because tomorrow is a day off.”

It was Gordon’s turn to be frowned at by Scott, but the aquanaut was having none of it. He held up a hand. “No, Scott, was thinking it would be a good idea earlier and now it is certain. I’m speaking to Grandma.” He pursed his lips. “Or I can skip that step and just convince you here and now while dopey here has his purple decorations on display.”

“Hey!” Virgil got his frown on, but Gordon ignored him, keeping his own determination targeted on Scott.

Defiant blue flared for all of a second before looking down. Scott hated taking International Rescue offline. Gordon understood why and agreed, but there were limits.

Gordon reached out and gripped his big brother’s arm gently. “You need the time off, bro. You’re exhausted as much as dopey here.”

Blue eyes caught his for a moment and Gordon could see the decision being made behind them.

Quiet. “Okay.”

Gordon smiled just a little and squeezed that arm.

“What are you guys doing?” Alan, followed by John poked their heads in the door. “Kayo beat John by a – whoa, Virg, what the hell happened to you?”

Virgil didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he did push himself to his feet. “Work, okay?”

Several sets of eyes landed on Scott expecting a follow up on that statement.

The commander sighed and stood up. “John, can you please notify the GDF that International Rescue will be unavailable for another day at least.”

The space monitor nodded as sharply as usual, despite the fact his hair had obviously been hurriedly scrubbed with a towel and was sticking up in all directions. “FAB.” He slipped out of the room.

Alan was still staring at Virgil.

Another sigh. “Guys, can I finish getting dressed?”

Scott pointed at his brother. “You are going back to the villa to get some shuteye.”

“No, I’d like to go for a swim first and cool down.”

For a moment there, Gordon’s two eldest brothers glared at each other, neither willing to give in.

Virgil’s frown looked to crawl off his face and throttle Scott. “It’s only bruises. A swim, a shower and bed, I promise.”

Scott sighed. “Fine.” His lips twitched a little smugly. “Good luck explaining that lot to Dad and Grandma.” He turned and stalked out of the cubicle, herding Alan with him.

Virgil sagged and sat down with a groan.

He looked so dejected, Gordon felt sorry for him. “Hey, bro. Wear a t-shirt and they will never know.”

His brother grunted and started pulling off his jeans. A sigh. “Thanks, Gords.”

“Not a problem. Gotta look after my wingman after all.” He furnished that statement with a grin.

Virgil arched an eyebrow up at him, but Gordon could see the smile building behind his eyes.

“Go. Get. Let me get dressed.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Get out.”

Gordon cackled and waltzed out of the cubicle.

He didn’t go far. He stopped just outside the beach hut and waited for his brother to finish up. The sun was fast approaching the horizon and everything was a wonderful gold colour.

Down on the beach, Scott was speaking with their father, no doubt reporting the situation. Gordon held back a sigh. Virg was likely in for it despite the t-shirt.

There was more than one way to give a guy a break, for goodness sake.

Dad looked up the hill at Gordon and caught his eyes.

Gordon gave him a mock salute.

If he had to run interference for Virgil, so be it. After all, he meant it when he said he had to look after his ‘wingman’.

Gordon rolled his shoulders and grinned at Scott as his brother looked up frowning.

His wingman needed a break.

So, Gordon would give him one.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy

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belovedbangtan · 5 years ago

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Dive | Part 5 | jjk

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 2.5k

Description: Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings:Language, just a leetle angst :( I hate it as much as you do.

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You wake up to the sound of the campsite around you being dismantled. The familiar smell of post-thunderstorm filling your nose. Breathing deeply you reach out for your phone that lays next to the air mattress. 11:45am. You’re eyes widen knowing that you slept in way longer than you should have. His arm was like a weight around your waist, you smiled wondering if his arm was secure around you the entire night. Lightly setting his arm to the side, you sit up and begin to stretch.

Within seconds his arms are wrapping around you again, attempting you pull you back to him. Your heart skips a beat when you see his disheveled hair covering his puffy eyes, his lips forming a kissable pout. You chuckle smiling down at him, “Its almost noon, Jungkook. We have to get going.”

He groans loud enough to vibrate the mattress. Throwing himself onto his back in the most melodramatic fashion, “Don’t wanna get up yet.” He whines.

“Well we have to take showers and pack up the tent,” You reach back running your fingers through is bed head. He quickly grabs onto your arm, pressing his lips to your knuckles before working them up to your shoulder.

He sits up kissing your neck, “You had me at shower.”

You scoff pulling your arm away from him, “Mhm, yeah were not showering together.”

A full grimace takes over his features, “Awe, you’re no fun.”

You laugh leaning into him, connecting your lips to his pouting ones, “Maybe when we get home.”

You slide away from him and off of the air mattress to sit next to your suitcase. You reach for all of your belongings deciding to shove everything in and take care of the mess when you get home. You turn, feeling his gaze on you. He’s smiling but something he’s not saying is hidden behind it. You scrunch your face up, wordlessly telling him that you can tell he’s up to something.

“I just really like hearing you say ‘home’,” He sits up in the bed bringing his feet to each side of you so your sitting in the middle of his legs. He leans in wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“You know what I meant, like our homes.” You start to blush trying to explain yourself. Even though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the thought of your home being wherever he was.

“I know what you mean, It’s just a nice thought, yeah?” He asks nuzzling my ear and the hair around it, “Just thinking about coming home from a really rough day to you. Or you coming home to me. Me making dinner for the both of us, you can make breakfast in the morning. Not to mention,” His voice is warm by your ear, “All of the places I can make you cum. In the shower, the kitchen table, the couch.”

You close your eyes picturing it yourself. It makes your heart flutter thinking about having him to call home. The thought of him interrupting your daily activities, just as he’s doing right now. Feeling his strong arms around you and his lips kissing places you didn’t even know existed. Of course you loved the thought of that, you’d be crazy not to. His kisses become needier and needier with every move, “Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

You hum in agreement, not sure of the way your voice will sound right now. You have to remind yourself to breathe. It was actually impressive how easily he could distract you. You inhale, bringing yourself back to reality. You’ve known this man 3 days, push the moving date to the back of your head.

“Kookie, we have to get ready to go.” You groan taking his hands in yours.

He laughs pulling back, kissing the crown of your head before he does, “If you say so.” He sings.

Once your bags are packed, you start to deflate the air mattress helping him pack it away. Then you start to break down the tent. Once everything is packed in the car, you and Jungkook head to the Washroom that the camping grounds provided. It definitely wasn’t like the hotel bathrooms you were accustomed to but, anything would work right now. You were desperate to be under the hot stream of water.

He holds your hand until you get to the dilapidated building, one side for the women and the other for the men. Once you walk in you thank the heavens Abby suggested bringing old flip flops to wear. The poorly laid concrete was muddy in all of the places beside the shower itself. It was loud too, you wondered why a bathroom this small would be so noisy. You looked towards the ceiling and you realized that the wall that connected the women’s to the men’s side wasn’t fully closed off.

You turn your shower head, the water was actually hot which surprised you. You’ve just finished washing your hair when you’re scrubbing your body. You stop your movement when you hear him nearly yelling.

His voice, arrogant and ear-splitting, you would know that voice anywhere. He had to speak that way, it was his way of appearing confident. You groan as you hear him laughing with his friends. Then you hear another familiar voice, but it doesn’t sound the way it usually does. He sounds angry, he sounds cocky too. You quickly rinse the soap from your body and turn the nozzle on the shower so that the water isn’t on anymore. You can hear a little better.

“Kookie, that’s what she calls you right? Her wittle kookie.” He erupts into a fit of laughter, and his minions follow suit.

“What’s the actual fucking problem here Ben? Are you jealous? Hmm?”

“We all know that you’re only entertaining her because you want to get back at me for stealing your chicks.”

“Is that right? Or maybe you’re upset because I was able to make her fall for me in a matter of days versus your months of trying.”

Ben scoffs loud, “Oh she has feelings? That’s cute, have fun with that while she refuses to put out.”

“Oh that’s interesting considering I had her pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock last night.”

“Whatever,” Ben’s voice gets quieter

Jungkook starts to say something but you force yourself to stop listening. It feels as if your stomach is in your throat. Breathe. You have to remind yourself to breathe. Who the fuck was that. There was no way that was the same man that took care of you while you were sick. He couldn’t be the guy that, less than and hour ago, was talking about living with you.

You gather your things and you sprint back to the campsite. Shoving past Abby and the boys who were waiting outside the SUV. Confusion lacing their features, Abby knows better and follows you into the SUV.

“What the fuck is going on?” She’s serious, as she leans over the middle seat to get a good look at you in the back.

You sigh, knowing that the only way to get her off your back was to tell her what was happening.

“I heard Ben and Jungkook in the shower. Ben said something about him and I, and Jungkook basically bragged about how easy it was to get me to fall for him, and how easy it was to get me to blow him.” You swallow hard.

Abby’s eyes widen and she instantly starts to gnaw on the inside of her cheek, she’s pissed.

“Are you sure it was him?” She looks out of the SUV and we both see Jungkook nearing the boys.

“I’m positive Abby, please, I don’t care what you have to say to him but I can’t talk to him right now. I just need some space.”

She nods and jumps to beat him to the boys. Once she gets close to him she presses him backwards.

“No, you fucked up Jungkook. She heard what you said in the bathroom during your little pissing contest with Ben.”

“No…” His face drops, all the color drains from it, “Abby I didn’t mean anything I said. I was just over his bullshit! Please! Let me talk to her!”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now, you need to respect that.”

He looks at you in the back of the SUV his eyes are glossy with tears, and that’s all it takes for you to start to sob. You turn away, and he does the same. You bury yourself in your hoodie, hoping to be left alone the entire ride home. The sobs are uncontrollable now, shaking your shoulders and leaving you breathless. How could he say that he didn’t mean it? Who tells someone that they’ve never felt feelings like this, then uses it against them. You wanted to believe that he didn’t mean it, and a part of you did believe it. The other part of you, the pissed off part, knew that there was no actual reason to say anything like that about someone you care for. If he actually felt the way he claimed he did, why would he say something so hurtful. Everything was so confusing and you were lost in your thoughts. You don’t if or when you would speak to him again, but you did know that you needed some time.

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Jungkook’s perspective:

It had been two weeks since the camping trip. Each day the message is different. One day I’m begging for forgiveness, the next I’m telling her that I understand why should would never want to speak to me. One thing they all have in common is that they never get sent. They sit in my drafts, because I feel like no matter what it is I’m saying ; she’s not ready to hear from me.

Everything feels off balance since that weekend. Like we were destined to meet and fall for each other. I had to go and fuck it up all over some stupid grade school feud. To this day I still can’t figure out why I felt the need to say what I said to Ben. I didn’t mean any of it, I knew better than to let him get to me.

I cant stop thinking about what she thinks of me now. How she thinks I was using her. When in reality every word I said to her I meant, with my whole heart. I meant it when I told her I had never had feelings for anyone the way I had them for her. I meant it when I talked about moving in with her. If were being honest, that was me holding back. Everything in my body was screaming love. I would look at her and I could feel myself heating up, just knowing she could be mine. Every fiber of my being knows that she’s the one soul out there that is perfect match for my own.

It sounds shallow to think about it, but I cant remember ever feeling this way for any of my ex’s. Good sex, sure. Fun to hang out with, I guess. Never once did I think about getting down on one knee and asking one of them to be mine forever. With her it’s all I thought about. It’s all I keep thinking about. The thought of her loving someone else is enough to make me sick to my stomach.

I sound crazy. I feel like the characters on sitcoms that annoy the shit out of me. There’s no way you can fall for someone that fast. Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s one hundred percent possible. I had to talk to her. If she needs more space after that, that’s fine. She deserves to know how I feel. There’s no way I’ll be able to get my mind off of it until I talk to her.

Message to Jimin:

Hey, throw a party. *send*

Jimin: uhh… for what?

I really don’t care, but y/n has to come. *send*

Jimin: Bro, she needs space.

Jimin, If I don’t talk to her I’m going to lose my mind. Please. *send*

Jimin: Fine. But if shit hits the fan, I’m throwing you under the bus.

It really cant get worse than it already is.

I lean back on my couch, and instantly all of the most horrific outcomes crash into my brain. What if she tells him she refuses to see me ever again. I groan realizing that I might need to prepare for the potential heartbreak. The slight chance that it might go well is all I’m choosing to think about right now.

Jimin: She’ll be there. You owe me.

Fuck this was happening. I have approximately three days figure out the perfect apology. I had to make sure she knows everything.

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The message back to Jimin is short and sweet, you would never know the complexity behind the decision to go. The last thing you wanted right now was to talk to Jungkook, but you know that you have to. For you to move past all of this you need to face it head on.

The last two weeks have been busy, thankfully. Only leaving the late hours of the night for you to overthink everything. The only conclusion you’ve come to is that you weren’t ready for any kind of relationship. Despite being the president of Ben’s hate club, you were and you still are healing from that relationship ending. Of course, it was for the best that things ended. Regardless you still needed time to process the fact that you gave love to someone for over a year, and he didn’t reciprocate. It was time for you to process that.

You’re feelings for Jungkook are complex, hopefully seeing him will bring some form of clarity. You could lie and say that everything that happened between the two of you was the result of you wanting a rebound. Or that you subconsciously wanted revenge on Ben. That just wasn’t true, and everyone knows it. You developed feelings for him, and deep down a part of you still felt that he showed his true colors up until Ben interfered. You take a deep breath, praying that this party helps you move on.

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Taglist:

@cainami @carolsummerlove @zeharilisharaban @jikooksgirl19 @fallen-for-luke @madygswich @sugalarity @itboykook @ggukkieeee @peachy-bhun @megs58298 @kawaiiayasan

A/n: Sorry for the late upload! Im like less than 20 hours away from getting my esthetics license, so I’m Busssyyyy. :( Let me know what you think, or what you see happening!

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts fanfic

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omniswords · 5 years ago

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Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 10

omni’s on lunch break, quick post a new Chronicles update—

anyway, thank you for continuing to support this fic!!! i hope you enjoy this update and share the love!

from: itsdjbubbles

hey dude! i know you don’t know me or whatever but like, i wanted to tell you that clip you just posted was FIRE. and also i’m pretty sure we’re in the same city? i think i heard you playing this on the champ de mars yesterday. i didn’t have any cash on me but i totally would’ve given you some if i did.

anyway, nice tunes and hope you’re havin a good one

Luka’s only glad this message hasn’t been sitting in his request box for very long. Otherwise, he’d really feel like a total douchebag. And an ungrateful douchebag on top of that, considering the new clip he posted… isn’t doing as well as he’d like. Not even as well as the first version, the thirty seconds he recorded on his phone and slapped on the internet because his soul all but compelled him to. It’s not that he’s comparing himself to other musicians on here; he rarely does this stuff for the numbers, anyway. It’s more that he’s comparing himself to… himself. The thing that he loves doing, puts hours of himself into, versus… these simple, giveaway details of his life that he posts without a second thought, because, well, where else is he going to put them?

Is this the case with every artist? Because if it is, then that’s just… stupid.

It’s half-past midnight, but Luka still pushes himself out of bed and shuffles to the couch, using the light of his phone to guide his path. His mother and Juleka are surprisingly asleep by now—he’s pretty sure at least half of France is, in spite of what this city has to offer—but he’s hardly ever been opposed to the comfort of the quiet and the dark. At least it gives him a chance to read the message a few more times.

It’s not often that people reach out to him privately. In fact, most of his direct messages are from people he’d befriended on other social media platforms, or occasionally someone who, like this Bubbles person, just wanted to let him know they liked his work and hoped he was having a nice day. It’s not that he thinks that he’s better than the people who are brave enough to reach out. He’s just never really known how to answer those kinds of messages beyond a thank you, so he’s tended to leave them be, or worse—never accept them in the first place, so they’d never know he read them at all.

It sort of makes him wonder how people dealt with situations like this a century or two ago. Maybe they just never left their houses, so they could never be called upon. So they never had to be known.

That wouldn’t be so bad, if he didn’t have to make money. Or if he didn’t like the sun so much.

Well. He supposes with technology like this, he’s coming pretty close.

Out of curiosity, Luka taps Bubbles’s icon, just to peek at their profile. He balks at the follower count—it’s well over a thousand—and judging by the content they post, he’s pretty sure almost none of them are those stupid bots looking to make ad revenue or ensure their devices are brimming with viruses. Or worse—argue against human rights, as though they’re something to be argued against. Bubbles’s page is funny, and vibrant, and rife with links to this other website he’s only ever heard of in jokes. It makes him halfway wonder how many of Bubbles’s posts have blown up—and how many they’ve actually responded to with a tip jar link or a peep my Soundcloud.

Whatever this Bubbles person is doing, it’s working. And it’s working right.

They don’t have any pictures of themselves on their page, or even as their profile picture. In fact, the most Luka finds is a silhouette of them from a nightclub, somehow darker than black and highlighted by strobes of bold, bright light. And the most he can make out of that is the rim of a pair of round glasses, and layers of thick dreadlocks.

It probably doesn’t matter. Even if he pulled off some crazed theorist thing with wild hair and enough red yarn to map out every arrondissement, he probably couldn’t have picked out glasses and dreadlocks out of a crowd on the Champ de Mars if he tried and wasn’t distracted by his own work.

But what could it hurt to say hi back?

Luka pops in his headphones, because the music is the only thing that actually lets him concentrate, and starts to type his response in the notes app on his phone. He doesn’t want to accidentally send something he hasn’t read and reread, or hasn’t even finished typing. And if Bubbles just so happens to be checking their messages, he doesn’t want to keep them waiting with all the typing and deleting and re-typing and re-deleting. He’s been on the receiving end of those eerily calm ellipses enough times to never want to subject anyone else to that. Eventually—and eventually is a long time, even for him—he comes up with something he’s actually satisfied with.

to: itsdjbubbles

hey, sorry for replying so late, i didn’t get any notification. but thanks for the compliment. it’s really cool of you to message me in the first place, i appreciate it. sorry about the cash thing, but don’t worry about it. i’d like to do it full-time someday, but it’s more of a side hustle thing for now. maybe i’ll get one of those venmo or cashapp things for people who don’t carry cash. (i mean, you’re right, who does that, anyway? it’s the 21st century.)

With a deep breath and both legs bouncing, Luka taps the SEND button. And then he decides that was an awkward place to end a message, because apparently you can read and reread and edit and re-edit, and you’ll still find every little thing wrong after you post, so he sends a follow-up message as quickly as he can.

anyway, thanks for the message. hope you’re having a good night.

Assuming Bubbles is even awake.

As soon as he puts his phone face-down in his lap, his blood runs cold with relief, and his hands start to tremble and tingle in spite of how the music still blasts in his ears. He tries to calm himself down by placing the color of each song, but after just a few of them he starts feeling that familiar buzz of sensory overload. In the end, he has to lie back and close his eyes and bask in total silence, just to get his head back on straight.

A message.

He sent a message.

His phone buzzes from its place on his stomach, and immediately he scrambles for it, squinting against the bright light of his screen. There’s a single notification.

Bubbles.

He shouldn’t already be this excited to talk to Bubbles.

from: itsdjbubbles

dude, you’re still up? don’t you have work in the morning?

from: itsdjbubbles

no but for real, you should consider sharing on other sites or picking up some other gigs if you haven’t already.

from: itsdjbubbles

like lol i know we just met and all but i know a place i DJ sometimes that’d totally like your vibe. just lmk if you’re interested?

from: itsdjbubbles

anyway, we should probably get some sleep huh. g’night!

It’s… funny. How this is all it takes for opportunity to fall into his lap.

Luka gets to his feet, a tired grin inching its way across his face, and shuffles right back to bed, another message under his thumb. Except this time, he doesn’t bother to open up his notes. If Bubbles knows he’s up, he might as well own it. Just for now.

to: itsdjbubbles

i’m going, i’m going, don’t worry, haha.

to: itsdjbubbles

yeah, i’ll think about it. why don’t you send me their info?

from: itsdjbubbles

you got it, dude.

from: itsdjbubbles

also

from: itsdjbubbles

good luck with CBG and all

from: itsdjbubbles

though from the looks of it, maybe you won’t need it??

Luka’s eyes blow wide open enough to start asking in his head, what does it mean? what does it all mean? Instead, he presses his phone to his face, because asking—and screaming—will definitely wake up his family, and types out one more reply.

to: itsdjbubbles

trust me. vaguely knowing her, i think i will.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #gee i wonder who this new mysterious character is #I WONDER

58 notes · View notes

ahsokatanope · 5 years ago

Text

Battered and Bruised: Chapter III

(Un)Broken Ties

Previous Chapters: Chapter I | Chapter II

Summary: You and Obi-Wan are forced to work together to fight and survive in Ja’arvis’ arena.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Inquisitor!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Angst. Sad Obi and sad reader talking about their feelings towards the end. Oh, and violence/mention of blood. (arena fights do be tough, y’all)

Note: First of all, this gif of Obi >>>> lol. Originally posted by @bo-katan. Secondly, I really enjoyed writing this one. It’s a long one and took forever to write, but I loved every second of it. I’d love to know what y’all think! It’s only uphill from here. Also, I wanna hug Obi.

“Care to remove mine as well?” A tone of dread edges around your words.

This feeling of vulnerability is something you haven’t felt in a while. In the past 48 hours, you’ve felt more exposed and defenseless than you ever have as an Inquisitor. You feel like the Maker is testing you to see how far your body and emotions can go without breaking.

Obi-Wan just looks at you and raises an eyebrow.

“After what you tried to pull earlier? Oh, I don’t think so.” He shakes his head at you, a hint of a smug smile tugging at his lips.

Then suddenly, the dark, grungy walls around you jerk and you feel the room begin to ascend.

Well, this is a sad excuse for an elevator, isn’t it?

“Kenobi,” you start, your energy for arguing has completely evaporated. “At least give me a fighting chance.”

This is as close as you are going to get to saying ‘please’ or asking for help. Obi-Wan looks at you, his eyes analyzing your exhausted form.

“Sorry, my dear, but I don’t trust you quite yet.”

The elevator jerks to a stop and you look up at him dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?” You stare at him incredulously.

His eyes glint with mischief. “Deadly.”

You hear a horrible screeching metal sound as the rusting durasteel door slides open, letting the bright light from the outside beam into the room.

Immediately, you are met with more guards who pull you out and push you forward.

Given no choice but to exit the elevator, the two of you step out with squinted eyes as your pupils struggle to adjust to the new lighting. The door squeaks shut, so now you are trapped outside.

When you are finally able to see clearly, you are met with the sight of thousands of various types of creatures and living beings onlooking your entrance. The roar of the audience’s cheers fills your ears and it’s deafening.

You look around, thankful to finally breathe in some air that isn’t musty or stale. The sky above is a mixture between pink and orange, the air that surrounds you temperate. The arena is grand, almost as large as the one you and Obi-Wan had escaped from on Geonosis all those years ago.

Suddenly a loud voice booms around the entire massive arena and the audience quiets to a low buzz. “Ladies and gentlemen, friends and fans, welcome to The Games!”

You scan the edges of the arena to find the source of the voice. There, front and center, on a raised balcony with the best view of the arena stands a Rakatan male, dressed in what looks like extremely expensive clothing. He must be the infamous Ja’arvis Takun you’ve heard so much about.

“Today I bring my loyal audience a gift that will be the height of entertainment since The Clone Wars!”

Your heart begins to beat faster in anticipation of what’s going to happen. Your mind goes a million miles a minute as you try to calculate a way to escape from this hellhole.

The towering walls that surround the battleground are too high and steep to climb. Without equipment, trying to escape that way would be a death wish. Various doors line the outside rim of the arena and you are almost positive that none of them lead to the outside world. You’re not sure what exactly lies behind those doors and you’re not sure you want to find out.

The bottom of the line is… you’re trapped with no way to escape.

“Today, my friends, I present the Bane Squad versus Kainoa versus two of our newest competitors...” The audience waits in anticipation. “Two Jedi!”

The spectators that surround the battleground erupt into chaos.

Who the kriff are Bane Squad? Kainoa? What did you get yourself into? You’ve truly outdone yourself this time.

“Let The Games begin!”

Your eyes widen when you see one of the other doors open to your right. You see a group of Togruta warriors emerge from one, various bits and pieces of armor covering each of their bodies. You count four of them and each of them look hungry for blood as they grip their spear-like weapons.

Beside you, Obi-Wan ignites his lightsaber. “I hope you still have an audacious mindset, darling, because right now it looks like we could put it to use.”

“Kenobi, you need to let me go.” You say quickly, sticking your bounded arms out in front of you, desperate for freedom. Your eyes dart towards the warriors who march to hunt you down. “I need to defend myself.”

He just smirks at you before he runs off, towards the enemy. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Kenobi!” You shout after him, seething with anger. Your eyes blaze with fire when you watch him move away. Your gloved fists clench within the cuffs and you feel helpless.

He really hasn’t changed since The Clone Wars, has he?

Deciding to cut your losses, you try to look around for any advantage you could use against your enemy. None. No elevated platforms for a height advantage, no weapons around, no shields; absolutely nothing.

Guess you’ll just have to get creative.

While Kenobi engages with two of the warriors, the other two close in on your position. When one gets close enough to take a swing at you with his spear, he does. You’re quick to react (or maybe he’s just slow) and you parry the blow with the middle part of your cuffs, hoping that the metal would split from the impact and set you free, but it doesn’t. The durasteel spearhead from the weapon splinters instead, leaving the warrior with a long, wooden stick instead.

“What are these damned things made out of?” You mutter under your breath. “The metal won’t give.”

While the Togrutan is frozen in shock at his weapon breaking so quickly, you grab the stick and use it to parry his teammate’s attack on your left. At this, the audience that makes up the arena seems to rile up, cheering louder for you. Stunned by your reflexes, the warrior staggers back and you surge forward on the offensive, delivering striking blows (as deadly as you could with a wooden weapon). The other Togruta comes at you from behind and locks you up in a tight hold, making you drop the wooden weapon.

When the other warrior comes to deliver the killing blow with his spear, you kick your feet out, connecting with his chest and knocking him on his back. Then, you throw your body weight forward to flip the one behind you over your body and onto the ground as well.

Out of breath and your heart pounding with adrenaline, your shackled hands quickly reach forward to grab the dropped unbroken spear on the ground and finish both of your enemies, ending their lives with a stab to each of their chests.

The spectators around the arena go wild at that. Struggling to catch your breath, you look around for Kenobi, wondering how he fared. Expecting to see him as ruffled as you were, you’re surprised to see him staring back at you with an amused look on his face. He’s only a few feet away, having easily defeated his enemies. The wind blows a few tendrils of his auburn hair in front of his left eye. He twirls his lightsaber and deactivates it.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He says, crossing his arms after he clips his saber on his belt.

“Glad to know you’re making a habit of leaving me to die.” You retort, narrowing your eyes.

A smirk makes its way to your face when you see Kenobi’s smug look drop.

“This isn’t a situation we haven’t been in before, you know.” He says, lifting an eyebrow. “You took out three Geonosians and a nexus with cuffs on while we were held captive in Geonosis.”

“Those cuffs didn’t have Force-binding material, did they?” You respond sharply.

Suddenly another door opens on the other side of the arena. When you see the creature that emerges, the onlookers cheer loudly and your eyes widen.

“You must know-”

“Kenobi, we’ve got more company.” You say, eyes darting to the large dragon-like creature stalking closer behind him.

When Obi-Wan turns around, he immediately goes to grab his saber and ignite it.

“Now would be a great time to free me.” You say, anxiety creeping into your voice, but before you finish the sentence, he’s already slashed at your cuffs with his saber.

Finally feeling the Force flow around you once again, you sigh with delight as the metal drops to the ground. But the feeling of contentment only lasts for a second because you have a new problem at hand.

“Jedi, meet Kainoa, my favorite pet.” Ja’arvis says from his seat on his balcony.

“Is that a Krayt Dragon?” Obi-Wan asks incredulously. “What in the blazes is it doing here?”

You use the Force to call the spear you used to kill the two Togrutans to your hand. It may be a weak weapon, but at least it’s something.

“Doesn’t matter.” You say shortly, watching the creature snarl in the nearing-distance. “What’s the plan to kill it?”

“You’re asking me? I haven’t got a clue, I’ve never interacted with one of these before.”

“You’re the one with the saber, Kenobi.” You sigh, growing frustrated with the current situation.

A few seconds pass and he speaks up again. “Alright, I have an idea, but I don’t think you’ll be a fan of it.”

“Get on with it, we don’t have time to wait around.”

“I need you to be a distraction. Let it chase you as I sneak up behind.”

He’s right. You don’t like this plan at all, but it’s the only thing that makes sense right now.

“Always putting me in danger, aren’t you, Kenobi?” You say with a smirk before backing away from him. “Make this quick!” You shout before turning to run and drag the attention of the Krayt Dragon away from Obi-Wan.

“Aren’t you an ugly thing?” You yell to the dragon (or Kainoa as Ja’arvis named it) as Kenobi moves to sneak up behind. The large creature is covered in spikes, you wonder how the former Jedi is going to pull this off without getting injured. You wonder how you are going to pull off distracting the thing without getting injured.

The dragon snarls and begins to chase after you and you sprint away, using the Force to propel yourself faster than normal. Turning around, you aim and throw the spear into Kainoa’s right eye. It screeches loudly and reels back, but it doesn’t distract it for long because seconds later, it’s back onto you.

Not anticipating its quick recovery and increasing speed, the dragon catches up to you swiftly and grabs a hold of your cape with its teeth.

Not good. You think as you’re dragged backwards and onto the ground.

You try to drag your heels into the dirt, but it’s no use. The dragon drags you with it as it runs across the entire arena. You can hear the audience torn between laughs and cheers.

“Kenobi, you planning on joining the fight anytime soon?” You yell, out of breath as more and more dirt coats your body.

“I can’t find an opening!”

You pick your head up and will yourself to focus, looking for a weak spot in the animal’s armor. You spot that its stomach has reptilian skin over it instead of the spikes that cover the rest of its body.

“Go for the underbelly!” You yell, coughing when dirt dusts into your mouth. “If we both work together, we can lift it and expose it!”

“On the count of three, ready?” Obi-Wan responds. “One. Two… Three!”

On ‘three,’ you focus all your energy onto the beast in front of you and it stops running, levitating off the ground with your cape and yourself hanging from its mouth. In a quick flash, Kenobi gets under the dragon and stabs its underbelly, making sure to step out the way of falling guts and blood.

The shriek it lets out is high and blood-curdling, and it causes you to be free from its grip, which sends you tumbling to the ground. It’s so loud you have to cover your ears.

You and the creature hit the ground at the same time, and instead of getting up right away, you stay there lying on the ground face up. Your body aches and throbs all over, and you are covered with dirt, mud, and dragon saliva. You pant heavily, your chest rising and falling quickly, as you try to catch your breath. The stench from the dragon’s breath fills your nose and you wrinkle in disgust.

A minute later, Obi-Wan is above you, offering a hand for you to stand.

You choose to ignore it and stand up yourself, your legs wobbly beneath you.

“Look at us working together again, Kenobi. Who would’ve thought?” You wheeze, coughing a bit due to the amount of dirt that got into your mouth. What you wouldn’t give for a drink of water right now.

“We make a great team.” Obi-Wan smiles at you, a true and genuine smile that makes the edges of his eyes crinkle. It makes your stomach flutter against your wishes. Your feelings for him are returning and you’re trying your best to stop them, but you find yourself unsuccessful.

Whatever moment you’re having with Obi-Wan is interrupted by a loud voice that sounds around the arena. It’s then that you’re brought back into the moment and reality settles back in.

Ja’arvis.

“Well done, well done, Jedi. You two put on quite a show.”

Pulling your gaze away from Obi-Wan, you take a step away from him and a step towards Ja’arvis’ balcony. When your gaze meets Ja’arvis’ form above you, your eyes turn dark when you remember the situation you’re in.

“I am no Jedi, Ja’arvis. I am the First Sister, leader of the Imperial Inquisition. The Empire will come for me, you Rakatan scum. You will regret holding me in your custody.” You say darkly, your eyes burning a hole into him. Obi-Wan watches you curiously.

Whatever playful mood you were in before is completely gone now and replaced by the same stoic face you show to your enemies.

Ja’arvis just laughs, the spectators following along and the sound of laughter ripples around you. Why is it that nobody takes you seriously?

“Doll, the Empire doesn’t know you’re here. Your threats mean nothing to me.”

Unclenching your right fist, you slightly wave it before you say, “You have no need for us here. You want to let us go.”

“Your feeble Jedi mind tricks do not work on me.” Ja’arvis says, annoyance clear in his tone.

You notice guards come up behind you. Your eyes watch them before they snap back over to Ja’arvis’ position.

“You two are lucky I am in a good mood today or you would have been in that arena with Kainoa and her two sisters.” Ja’arvis states with a wiry smile on his face. “Consider yourselves extremely lucky.”

Now, Kenobi decides to speak up. “Thank you for your kindness, Gamemaster Takun. It’s much appreciated.”

You can tell he is being sarcastic, but the way he delivers the line is genuine, which means that Ja’arvis is buying into Obi-Wan’s charm.

“I like that one.” Ja’arvis says with a chuckle before he continues. “Take them to their new quarters. I’ll come to visit them shortly.”

“No thanks.” You mutter under your breath.

When you turn around and are guided by the guards to one of the doors in the arena, you don’t fight them. It’s no use. So instead, you let them lead you to your new ‘home.’

You just hope it has a 'fresher so you can clean all the dirt, grime, and dragon saliva off of you.

—————

The ‘cell’ they put you in surprisingly isn’t much of a dungeon. Sure, it’s a confined living space with no windows, but compared to the tight, grungy room you were held in earlier, your new holding cell feels like a penthouse.

It’s clean and doesn’t smell like the back end of a gundark. The walls are a plain white color and polished duracrete makes up the floor. You’re surprised to see a table in the front corner of the room along with two chairs. Two beds sit in the back corners split by a door to what you believe is the ‘fresher.

Not bad for being held prisoner, honestly. Upon your arrival, you’d expected worse living conditions from your captors.

The catch? You have to share it with Obi-Wan.

The thick reinforced durasteel door locks after the guards leave the room.

Without sparing a glance at Obi-Wan, you sit down in one of the chairs at the table and run a hand through your hair. It tangles through the knotted, dirty stands and you give up when you realize you won’t be able to tame it until you shower.

Finally able to relax after days of nonstop fighting, you sigh in contentment and bask in the silence the room provides you. As exhausted as you are and as peaceful as the silence is, you can’t help but keep your guard up around you. You know better than to completely relax in a situation where you’re in captivity.

You glance over at the door to the ‘fresher in the back of the room. A shower sounds amazing right now, but you can’t help but feel on edge... like you need to protect yourself from a threat.

“I can sense conflict in you.” Obi-Wan says, carefully watching you from a few feet away.

Obi-Wan. Your thoughts had caused his presence to slip from your mind for a brief moment. Maybe he’s the reason why your body won’t let you fully relax. As he stated earlier in the arena, he doesn’t trust you, and you don’t trust him either. You may have worked together to survive, but that doesn’t mean that you can let your guard down around him.

But he hasn’t attempted to kill you. A small voice speaks up in the back of your mind. And it’s true. He hasn’t. Not today, anyway.

During your first encounter at the scrap yard, you’re positive that there were many windows of opportunity for him to strike you with a devastating blow from his saber, but he never did. And when he got his lightsaber from Hondo earlier, he could have struck you down right then and there for putting him in the situation he was in.

Lord Vader had once told you that Kenobi had betrayed you both. That he was brainwashed by The Jedi Code and never cared for either of you.

So why is he looking at you right now with concern etched across his features? Why does he look like he cares?

The realization sends your mind reeling. You must be losing it.

You tear your eyes away from Obi-Wan. “I need to get out of here.”

Before he can respond, the door to your cell hisses open. The same two guards from before come in and act as bodyguards for the one and only Ja’arvis Takun. Upon his entrance, he throws a sack onto the table next to you with a smug look on his face.

Your gaze on him is hard before you glance down at the sack. A few credits leak out from the opening at the top.

“What is this?” You snatch the bag with your left hand.

“Your cut from today.” Ja’arvis responds. “For some reason, the viewers adored you two today. That’s a lot more than an average newcomer receives.”

You steal a glance at Obi-Wan and he looks just as confused as you feel. Credits? Why? You’re his prisoners.

“As you probably found out earlier, both of you are now my gladiators.” Ja’arvis explains. “I paid top dollar for you two and I expect to get a return on investment. However, if everyday is like today, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“If you expect to profit from us, then why give us a cut?” Obi-Wan asks, crossing his arms.

“It’s all a part of the system, my Jedi warrior. With those credits you can buy yourself weapons, armor, luxuries, you name it! Better weapons and armor means a better chance of survival in The Games. The more games you survive, the closer you get to becoming a Champion. Once you achieve the rank of a Champion, you can choose to leave if you so choose, but most decide to stay because they enjoy the lifestyle.”

Ja’arvis looks like he’s enjoying every part of this. He’s a leech feeding off of the downfall of others.

“There is a training room on this floor as well. In that training room is a weapons shop and a workshop where you can tinker with your weapons and armor. You're free to use the training room any time as long as it doesn’t interfere with your schedule. There’s an intercom next to the door that you shall use to summon guards that will escort you there. The training room is the only place that allows weapons other than the arena.”

The Rakatan continues his explanation. “On your beds you will find your uniforms. Wear them. You’ll get a new set after each match. I’ve decided to keep you both together as a team since the audience loves the idea of a new dynamic duo. You are slated to fight in the arena every day of the week except for Tuesdays and Saturdays. Do you both understand all that I have explained?”

You don’t like this at all. Ja’arvis runs a well-oiled machine and the margin for escape isn’t looking too broad anymore.

Does that stop you from getting up to defiantly get in Ja’arvis’ face? No.

Clutching the bag of credits in your hand, you stand up from your chair quickly and immediately the guards react, shifting in front of Ja’arvis to shield him from you.

“How dare you.” You hiss. “I do not belong here, you Rakatan scum. When I leave here—”

You’re about to throw the bag of credits back at Ja’arvis but Obi-Wan swiftly puts his hand over it, freezing your actions.

“I believe what my dear friend is trying to say is thank you for your payment and hospitality, Gamemaster Takun.” Obi-Wan looks at you pointedly. “You have our gratitude. We will be ready for the arena tomorrow. Won’t we, Y/N?”

You glare at Kenobi, then back at Ja’arvis. You can feel the warmth from Obi-Wan’s hand begin to bleed through your glove. You release your hand from the credit pouch and turn away, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.

“I’m not afraid of you, Ja’arvis.” You say when you turn back around, your voice calmer than before.

“How are you liking your new quarters? Does it fit you well?” Ja’arvis asks, his gaze on you hardening.

You keep your expression apathetic.

“You have my good friend Hondo Ohnaka to thank for that. Any colleague of Hondo’s should receive the best treatment from yours truly.” He thins his eyes at you. “But if you defy me again, I will not hesitate to stick you back in the rusting cage you were in this morning.”

Swallowing, you stare back at him, hate glowing in your yellow irises. You may be defiant, but you’re not stupid. No way you’re going back to that hellhole.

“Understood.” You finally say, clenching your jaw.

And just like that, Ja’arvis is back to his jolly self, acting like his threats never happened. “Good.” He turns to leave, bringing the guards with him. “See you tomorrow, Jedi. Rest well. You’ll need it.”

Then, the door hisses shut and you are left alone with Obi-Wan Kenobi once again. You don’t get to savor a moment of silence before he begins to scold you.

“Must you always act so impulsive? You shouldn’t speak that way to our captor. The last thing we need is for you to anger him and put us in a worse situation.” Kenobi is displeased to say the least.

You sigh, sinking back down into the chair behind you. “I don’t know about you, Kenobi, but I don’t want to be here. I’m not going to show respect to someone who profits off of my downfall.”

“I do not wish to be here anymore than you do, but I know when to pick my battles.” He says, annoyance growing in his tone. “Your impulsiveness is going to get us killed, you know that?”

You glare at him, your bright amber eyes piercing into his figure. “I’m going to get out of here one way or another. For your own sake, I’d suggest staying out of my way.”

“Do you not understand? The only way you or I are getting out of here is through the way of The Games. Nobody is coming for us.”

“There is no ‘us,’ Kenobi.” You snap sharply. “Not anymore. You are the one who doesn’t understand. The Empire will come for me, and once they find me, they will kill you.”

Obi-Wan clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. One thing he was known for in the past was his patience, and he’s exhibiting it right now as you speak.

“Whether you like it or not, First Sister ,” Obi-Wan begins, and you can tell that he doesn’t like the way the new title feels coming out of his mouth. “We must work as a team if we are to escape.”

“Yeah, okay—”

“You must know that the Empire most likely believes you are dead, right?” Kenobi asks, the start of a fire glowing in his eyes as he looks at you. “Your helmet along with both of your sabers, which are most likely destroyed by the way, lie in the wreckage from the scrap pile that collapsed mere seconds after I escaped with you in my arms. Your welcome, by the way.”

You sigh and open your mouth to speak, but he continues on.

“If there is an opening that we can take advantage of and escape, we will do so with no hesitation. However, until then, we shall work together to stay alive until an opportunity opens.”

You’re silent for a few moments and cast your eyes down to the polished duracrete floor. He’s right. There is no escape. With no weapons in your quarters or knowledge of the complex map, escape is futile. This means that your options are very slim: choose to comply and team up with Kenobi until the Empire finds you or try to escape and get in a worse situation than you are now. You don’t like either, but your choice is obvious.

“What happened to you, Y/N?” It’s a simple question, really, but the way Obi-Wan asks it has so many emotions tied each word.

“I found my true self through the Dark Side of the Force.” Your tone is detached; like you’ve recited those words over and over again to the point where they hold no meaning anymore.

Obi-Wan looks away before his eyes flick over to you. “You know,” he begins, moving to sit on his bed, “after you took your helmet off on Tatooine, I didn’t want to believe it was you.” You stay quiet as he goes on. “You had the same face and voice as the Y/N I once knew, but everything else…”

“What are you getting at?”

“I refuse to believe that the compassionate, strong Jedi I once knew, my best friend, could turn into someone so…”

“Horrible?” You offer, completely void of energy. “Evil? How about monstrous, I haven’t heard that one in a while.” This conversation is not one you want to have at the moment and it’s wearing you out. Actually, all of the events that happened in the last 48 hours are finally hitting you full on and exhaustion that you felt earlier now kicks into full gear.

“Corrupt.” Obi-Wan replies instead, his voice weakening.

And for the first time since your reunion, you see just how much all of this has taken its toll on him. He looks just as exhausted as you feel. Bags have formed under his eyes from lack of sleep and you can see the pain evident in his blue eyes. Eyes that used to be bright with confidence and triumph are now dull with no shine to them. The luster in his gaze that was reserved only for you during the Clone Wars is absent and replaced by an eerie emptiness.

The man is a ghost of his former self… and you don’t know exactly why, but this realization bothers you.

You blink and let his words sink in, too tired to close your mind to them. As much as you want to leave the room and be alone, you can’t.

Curiosity gets the best of you and you vocalize a question that you’ve been wondering since it happened.

“Why did you save me, then?”

Something flashes in his gaze. “Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You say, thinning your eyes at him. “Answer my question.”

“You hesitated.” Kenobi claims and his brows furrow.

You did. You remember every moment of that encounter. When finally given the moment to get your revenge, you couldn’t follow through.

You turn, no longer able to look into Obi-Wan’s imploring eyes. He wants an answer, but right now, you are not yet ready to give one to him.

“Tell me why you did it.” You mumble, fidgeting with a thread sticking out of your torn sleeve.

“What was I supposed to do? Leave you in the sand to die and waste away?” His voice has a newfound energy to it that grows with each passing word. “No.”

“Why not?” You ask, snapping your head toward him.

“Because I already lost you once!” He yells, and you can see frustration and sadness within his eyes once again. You’ve caused that. “I’d already lost you once and I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”

His voice sounds so broken . Nothing like the man you once knew.

Moments pass and there is nothing but silence that surrounds you two. You hold each other’s gaze for a few beats before he looks away, taking a deep breath.

You sigh defeatedly. “I was already lost. I still am.” You subconsciously shift in your seat when Obi-Wan’s stormy blue eyes meet yours again. “I was trying to kill you, you know.”

“No.” He says in a low voice, shaking his head. “You weren’t. That was evident the moment you hesitated to land the final blow. You had me at your mercy and you made a choice.”

Kenobi stands up and takes a step towards you, causing you to rise from your position and move away from him.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

There it is. The question you’ve been avoiding. He’s pretty much backed you into a corner physically and metaphorically.

You close your eyes, turning away from him for a moment.

“I couldn’t.” You whisper. “I couldn’t be responsible for the death of my former best friend, okay? I couldn’t do it.” Your voice is sad, and you hate how vulnerable you feel right now, but there is no stopping your emotions. “No matter how many times I was told that you were a traitor and that you along with the rest of the Order were against me… I just… I was weak and I couldn’t follow through.”

You look up to see a flicker of hope appear in Obi-Wan’s eyes. You want to tell him not that you're not capable of being the person you once were, but when you open your mouth, he’s already speaking.

“You weren’t weak, Y/N. You were strong for fighting the call of the Dark Side. You aren’t the monster you portray yourself to be.”

A mask of apathy takes over your facial features.

“21.” You say darkly, taking a deep, shaky breath. Obi-Wan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “That’s the number of Jedi I’ve killed over the past two years.”

His eyes widen. It’s the exact reaction you expect.

“Six of them were children.” You continue, staring directly at him. “The rest of them were just Padawans or just barely Knighted.”

Silence.

Now you are the one who senses Kenobi’s confliction. You can feel the emotions clashing within him and how he’s fighting against them.

“I was heartless. Ruthless. I showed no mercy.” You voice, walking a few steps toward your bed. You glance at the uniform that lays upon it. Turning around, you look at Obi-Wan once again. His expression reads concerned, like he’s worried for you.

“I’m the Inquisition’s highest ranking officer, ranking above The Grand Inquisitor himself, because of my achievements in hunting Jedi. Yet, when I found you…” You shake your head and let out a slight scoff. “I couldn’t finish the job. How comical is that? An Inquisitor who couldn’t execute a target due to her pre-existing emotional ties.” You breath out a humorless laugh. “Embarrassing.”

A blanket of quiet falls around the room. It’s a few moments before Obi-Wan decides to speak up.

“There is good in you, Y/N. I can sense it.” He says, his voice strong. “Nothing is going to change that.”

A corner of your mouth twinges up into a slight smirk. “That’s where you’re wrong, Obi-Wan.”

You turn to grab the black uniform on your bed and head to the ‘fresher, wanting nothing more than to put a wall between yourself and the broken Jedi. Upon entering the ‘fresher, you hear Obi-Wan’s voice barely above a whisper. The question he asks freezes your entire body.

“What did they do to you?”

You know exactly what he means by the question. What horrible things did Sidious and Vader do to transform you into the unrecognizable person you had become? What did they say? How did they hurt you? How much were you tortured? What was the extent of your mental wounds? And most importantly… What caused such a powerful, loyal Jedi to crack?

Saying that it’s a loaded question is the understatement of the century.

You try to prevent the terrible memories that threaten to flash on the backs of your eyelids. Just thinking about your transformation makes you feel the pain and suffering of it all over again.

So you don’t turn to look at him when you answer. You don’t want him to witness any more of your vulnerability than he has already.

“You don’t want to know.”

—————

Howling wind blows sand around chaotically as a dust storm begins to brew up on the dry planet of Tatooine. Stormtroopers and probe droids can be seen searching the remnants of a collapsed scrap yard. The Empire is searching for something, or someone .

The Grand Inquisitor steps onto the scene, having freshly arrived from Fortress Inquisitorius. Two Purge Troopers come up to meet him.

“Any sign of her?” He asks, his unsettling figure looming over the troopers.

“No signs of her body, sir. Only these.” One of the Purge Troopers nods to another and he brings forth a broken lightsaber, crushed from heavy impact and deformed from exposure to heavy heat. The Grand Inquisitor takes the saber into his hand and examines it before clipping it to his belt.

Another trooper steps forward with a disfigured helmet; not just any helmet, but the sleek black helmet that belongs to the First Sister. The matte durite of the helmet is completely destroyed, making the helmet almost unrecognizable.

This is all the evidence The Grand Inquisitor needs.

“Bring this to my ship and contact Lord Vader immediately.” He says, his mouth twisting up into a sickly grin.

“The Inquisition is mine now.”

Tag List: @kaminobiwan @whatsasetitoff

If you’d like to be tagged, shoot me an ask or reply to this post and we can arrange that right away! 😁

#Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x you #obi-wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi-wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #inquisitor!reader #angst #enemies to lovers #friends to enemies to friends to lovers #Obi Wan fanfic #obi wan imagine #battered and bruised

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thedistantdusk · 5 years ago

Note

Hi, I’m the nonny! Thank you for such a kind response, it means a lot. I was thinking the year she’s back at school post DH and they’re rebuilding their relationship and dealing with the distance after being together all summer. Thank you again, I hope you’re doing well during this crazy time!

Nonny, I can only hope this provides you a bit of happiness right now and that I addressed the prompt! :D I’m so sorry you’re going through this and that everyone will find peace. HUGE thanks to @floreatcastellumposts for reading this a billion times and Brit-picking and @el-eye-zee-aye for the same, but not the British parts! ;D Also on AO3. Not pure smut, but definitely M! __________ Harry wasn’t here last year.

But he followed her everywhere, anyway.

She spent most of a school year with his memory lingering in the shadows of every corridor. She could almost see his hands in his pockets, his expectant smile stretching as she approached and then faltering as she passed. She was haunted by his graveled moans from the corners of the quidditch pitch, his sharp gasps beneath the tree on the lawn, his low, reverberating pleas in empty cupboards they knew so well. And she didn’t realize it at the time, but that kept her going, really... his silent presence. The revenant of what they’d been before the world fell to shit.

There are a few reasons why Ginny doesn’t think much about Phantom Harry during the summer after the war. First, she knows it’s a bit pathetic that she constructed it — constructed him — out of a relationship that lasted three weeks... although she’d fight anyone to the death who dared describe it as such, themselves.

Second, she’s away from school for months and thus lacks a real trigger. And third, she finds that Real Harry is infinitely more fun — especially when he’s in her arms and in her bed and doing all the things he’d once promised he’d do... even though he hadn’t said he’d do those things, either. They’d been quiet Harry things, the sorts of things he’d said with his eyes while he’d stared at her like he was drinking her in. The sorts of things he’d conveyed with a trail of his fingertips or a low groan. The sorts of things that were no less tangible for remaining silent.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. So after a summer of learning and discovering and rebuilding, there’s no small irony that Ginny and Hermione must return to Hogwarts to learn, discover, and rebuild. They stand on the platform on September the first with their respective boyfriends and share hurried, awkward farewell snogs and promise to send filthy letters — all while pretending the other girl isn’t doing the same. Together, they then make the doleful journey to the school that hasn’t been their proper home in ages, regardless of when they visited last. Together, they start a new-old life that’s both alien and familiar, both dull and soothing.

Ginny and Hermione grow closer too. As the days turn to weeks, Ginny wonders if they’re more compatible as friends now because Hermione’s finally loosened up just as Ginny’s started to take non-quidditch topics a bit more seriously. Living under Death Eater rule was roughly comparable to living with Tom in her head, but it nonetheless taught Ginny a series of valuable lessons about holding onto anger versus letting things go.

This too, perhaps, is why it takes until a Hogsmeade visit in October for Ginny to realize what’s missing — or more aptly, who’s missing.

Harry and Ron greet them just at the entrance of the Hogsmeade gates. Just like when they’d departed at the start of term, they each share awkward, hurried snogs of greeting and pretend they aren’t desperate for activities they can’t do in front of their siblings.

Ron and Hermione, however, seem to take this social norm as a suggestion rather than a rule. Ginny vaguely hears them shuffle off behind a shrub, and Harry takes the cue to lift her against him, duck-walk them across a path, and put her down in the shadow of the apothecary, all without breaking a kiss. He smells warm and fresh, like broom polish and soap and Harry, and she doesn’t mind at all when she feels extra definition in the arms that he uses to caress the small of her back. Ginny’s not sure how long they spend snogging, but when Harry pulls back with a choked moan, his glasses fogged, she’s equally sure she can’t see straight, either.

“I erm. I got you a present,” he manages, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Ginny thinks they’ve both underestimated how badly she wants him, though, because she immediately makes a joke about sex.

“I noticed,” she says dryly, brushing against the hardness pressing into her waist.

Harry chuckles. “That’s... a remarkably low bar to be considered a gift, Ginny. Someone should really talk to your boyfriend about giving you better presents.”

“Oh, so you’ve met my boyfriend!” she says brightly. “Brilliant, I was dreading the awkward introduction.”

Harry pulls back to clear his glasses with a quick Impervius. “Yeah,” he says fairly, examining the lenses in the light. “I mean, I wouldn’t call us friends, but I hear he’s quite talented.”

He slides his glasses back on and takes her hand. She has no idea where he’s taking her, but she doesn’t question his deliberate strides down the street.

“Mm,” she agrees, skipping a bit to keep up. “There are two main talents I can think of.”

“Oh?” Harry takes a distracted look around, like he’s searching for someone.

“First, coming back to life,” she says, giving his hand a grateful squeeze. Harry swallows and shoots her a soft, affectionate look from over his shoulder.

“And the second?” he deadpans, his green eyes darkened with lust. Even while turned on, he has the nerve to know she’s setting him up for a joke. Unbelievable!

As they come to a stop outside Three Broomsticks, Ginny decides to make it a good joke, indeed. So she arches a brow and plainly enunciates, “Of course, the second talent would have to be eating—“

“—HEY!” Ron’s voice booms as Harry chortles into his palm.

Ginny looks up, unperturbed, even as Harry falls to pieces. Ron and Hermione are standing a few meters ahead, each red-faced, each with their clothing askew. Harry rolls his eyes, but she knows exactly what he’s thinking: Just imagine how they’d look if she’d finished that thought. And they’d heard it.

Ron’s demeanor changes when he sees them… and for a split-second, Ginny’s afraid she has finished the thought, and he has heard her. As she and Harry walk closer, Ron loses his confident swagger, his face paling, his shoulders slouched; if Ginny didn’t know better, she’d say that her brother was thinking (very broadly) about the concept of her and Harry. Together. Because Merlin knows she’s seen that expression on his face more times than she can count.

But when the four of them are standing nearly toe-to-toe, Ron sets his jaw in grim determination and peers over at Harry. “Did you tell her?” he mutters, squinting in the dying sunlight.

Blegh.

Now Ginny’s the one feeling queasy. She knows it makes her a bloody hypocrite, but she can’t handle hearing her brother’s voice all deep and scratchy, like he’s been groaning and moaning and—

“Erm, we never got the chance?” Harry says weakly. The corners of his lips twitch. “We were... a bit busy.”

Ron makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as Ginny turns to Harry with narrowed eyes. “Tell me what?”

Harry shrugs. “Like I said, I got you a present.”

Ginny swats him on the chest. “I told you, I don’t need a present!” But then she drops her voice, leaning in to trail her finger along the seam of Harry’s jacket. “What I could use, though,” she murmurs, meeting his eyes, “is a good—”

“We have rooms at Three Broomsticks!” Harry blurts, loud enough for everyone to hear. Ron explodes with a swear and mutters something about “terrible fucking ideas,” and it’s not until then that the pieces in Ginny’s head slide into place.

Oh! She glances at the pub behind them, which suddenly seems far more warm and welcoming than she’d ever thought.

That’s… oh!

But wait, no, something doesn’t quite—

Ginny rips her head away from to peer over at Ron and Hermione, her eyes narrowed — and ahh, fuck, this whole this has been a sham! They definitely knew! She can read it on their bloody faces, can’t she, as they do that thing where they shuffle in place? For two people allegedly good at strategy, they’re shit at hiding when they’ve been caught bang to rights.

At least Ron has the decency to look a bit green at the gills as he peers in the direction of the pub, like he’s just realized — or perhaps just accepted — that Harry and Ginny are about to do what he and Hermione are about to do. Hermione, though, couldn’t seem more flush-faced and content, like she’s wearing her smugness as a badge of honor. Bloody morons, the pair of them…

Ginny turns back to Harry with a raised pointer finger, her mind filled with questions (How long did Hermione know? Was Ron really involved in this process… really? Should I get used to this during these weekends?) but before she can ask any of them, he cuts her off with a nod towards the pub.

“So erm... shall we?” Harry asks, his voice unexpectedly timid. Then he gives her that familiar sheepish grin as he rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

Ron makes another disgusted sound from behind them — which Hermione quickly soothes with a murmur.

And although Ginny would love to maintain an air of self-righteous indignation, she decides to let her boyfriend try this grand-gesture-chivalry-thing, after all.

________

The second they’re in the room, Harry shoves her against the door.

“Does McGonagall know?” Ginny demands with her last bit of brainpower as Harry’s mouth nibbles on her jaw. “Because I can’t... mmm... I imagine her being ok with—”

Harry replies with a startled laugh, but it seems the reminder of McGonagall has cooled his ardor a bit.

“Not unless you plan to tell her!” he says darkly, taking out his wand. “But fair point, this place could probably be more secure.” Then — with one jacket sleeve dangling from his shoulder, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, and a visible bulge pressing against his trousers — Harry proceeds to very stoically cast a series of charms around the room, his eyes flitting from corner to corner.

Ginny would laugh if she didn’t match his desperation.

“No, no, I’m not really worried about that!” She sinks down to the bed to toe off her trainers. “I was just wondering if you’d got permission for us to stay a bit longer, but you answered my question. Anyway.” She waves her hand dismissively and unbuttons her jeans. “Why are you so paranoid? Everyone and their mum knows we’re shagging, Harry. You can’t expect that to be a secret!”

He gives a humorless chuckle and casts the contraceptive charm. “Yeah, but knowing in theory is a bit different from seeing my pasty white arse on the front page of The Prophet.” He puts his wand on the bedside table and shrugs his shirt off the rest of the way. “Trust me when I say that I’ve seen some shit these past two months, Ginny — and I don’t mean dark shit. I mean like, middle aged women who somehow find me delectable!”

He shudders and he tugs off his jeans; Ginny wonders if he’ll ever accept what a fucking hero he is, but she answers her own question almost immediately: Of course he won’t. He never will. This is the man who saved the bloody world a few months ago, but never even thought to ask for permission to actually shag her overnight.

Ginny bites her lip as he finishes undressing. He’s heartwarming and ridiculous at the same time, isn’t he? Harry. This person who’s carelessly sexy and sloppy and perfect... this person whose idea of a grand gesture involves hatching a plan with her brother.

Then he lies down beside her with a timid smile that doesn’t match the arousal jutting out in front of him, and as he softly brushes the hair away from her face, Ginny will be damned if her heart doesn’t swell to a million times its size.

__________

He fucks her deeply, passionately... the type of shagging she knew she was in for when she first heard about his plan. It’s the type where he stares into her eyes and watches with breathless wonderment as he makes her come — twice. It’s the type where she feels his heartbeat with his pulse as he finally spills himself inside her with a strangled roar. It’s the type of shag that sets her nerve endings on fire and steals her breath and makes her feel a startling sense of connection... to the universe. To her body. To her soul.

But most importantly, to him.

To Harry. Her Harry... the one with the racing, reckless mind and loose grasp on authority and suddenly defined arm muscles that he uses to roll them over until she’s lying on his chest.

He came — and hard. She knows he came so hard that he’s scarcely breathing, so hard that his world is surely an array of pinpricks exploding in the darkness... but he’d never, ever be blind enough to forget about her. And as she lays there, her cheek pressed against his heart (the one that’s miraculously, somehow, still beating), a realization that’s been glinting at the edges of her mind slams into her like a ton of bricks: He hasn’t haunted her this year at all.

Ginny exhales on a shudder and bites her lip, but his warm weight keeps her from slipping. He anchors her to earth, this Real Harry... the one she’d ached for and pined for and craved, but not as a figment of a memory.

Her heart hammers, her pulse races, as she makes sense of it all. As she tries to come to terms with it. As she considers how to explain to her boyfriend that he’d once been everywhere (when he wasn’t happy), and how he’s now nowhere (when he is).

Harry gets there first.

“What’s wrong?” he rumbles, his hand coming up to stroke her hair.

A smile lifts her left cheek, still flush against his chest. What else can she do, really, but smile? “Nothing’s... exactly wrong.”

“Nothing exactly,” Harry agrees, threading a tendril through his fingers. “But seriously, Ginny, I know you a bit better than that by now.” He trails off with a chuckle that makes her head bounce, and she grins even more broadly; she loves the proof of him, the evidence he’s here.

“Erm, you do know we’ve shagged quite a lot, yeah? Enough times for me to know what’s normal with you — and what’s not.” He shifts his thumb to brush her jawline and clears his throat with an air of formal importance. “So. If you’ve got any complaints about my performance, I highly recommend you formally share those with the HR department before—“

“—Last year was fucking horrible,” she breathes, her eyes trained on the far wall.

The silence that follows is more deafening than if she’d shouted. In any other circumstance, she’d feel guilty for throwing at him without context. Now, though, she can’t stop... especially not when she hears his reassuring murmur. Not when she feels his hands grip her closer, wrapping around her middle.

And with that, it’s like he’s uncorked a stopper; every bizarre, mortifying thing she did to keep him alive suddenly spills over. “So I guess I... I guess I pretended I saw you everywhere at Hogwarts — even though I didn’t do it on purpose — because even for me, that would be a bit much,” she babbles, her thoughts only half-formed. “For some reason you were in all the places we used to snog, and also everywhere else, and I don’t know...” She trails off with a huff that ruffles the hair around her face. “It just... I didn’t realize until now that I haven’t done that this year and how fucking pathetic that was while you were gone, and—”

“Hey!” Harry interrupts, his arms gripping her waist more tightly. “Of all the things you are, love?” He kisses the top of her head. “Pathetic doesn’t make the list. Not even close.”

Ginny gives a delirious laugh and shifts until she’s propped on her elbow; she’s seized with the desire to see him, to prove (again) that he’s more than a memory. She’s not disappointed with what she finds. Harry’s put his glasses back on, but they’re lopsided and smudged and unmistakably human. His grin is lazy and warm, the type she couldn’t make up, not even if she tried. His eyes are roving over her chest, his jaw tense, as he attempts to take her seriously even though she’s naked.

“Anyway,” she adds, extending her finger to trail down his chest. “I guess it just hit me all once, that you haven’t, you know, been there. Even though I’ve missed you terribly.”

Harry arches a brow. “How terribly?” His hands start to dance up her side. “Please don’t spare the details, Ginny. A poor, lonely bloke needs something to go on.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know damn well how bloody terribly! How many pairs of knickers have I sent?”

Harry clucks his tongue. “Not enough, I’m afraid,” he laments, brushing the underside of her breast. Then he peers up at her, his face stretched into a grin. “After all, it’s hard to top the red ones.”

Ginny snorts before she can help it. Even though she’s naked — even though they’ve just shagged — she can’t help but feel vaguely abashed. “I still can’t believe I did that,” she mutters, running a hand down her face. “And more than once! For fuck’s sake, if my mother ever found out...”

Harry just laughs, shaking his head, but then something catches his eye behind her.

“Shit,” he swears, his eyes going wide, “is that really the time? We were supposed to be downstairs to meet them five minutes ago.”

He gives her a final, moaning kiss before he leaps to his feet and searches for his clothes. Ginny rolls her eyes again as she begrudgingly flings the blankets off. Even after all the time, he’s still more terrified of her brother than anything else...

“A lot of doors will open the moment you realize you’re Harry fucking Potter, you know,” she says archly, reaching for her bra. “You could even, you know, ask to properly spend the night with your girlfriend!”

Harry laughs from the corner of the room. “I do feel pretty terrible about shagging you and running off. But what can I say? You’re in school, and I’m training. It’s just not a good time.”

“Mmm.” She flips her hair out over her cloak and turns to examine herself in the mirror. She’s a bit pink in the cheeks, a bit bright in the eyes — but if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t necessarily know. At least that’s what she tells herself when she considers facing McGonagall later tonight.

“Will the next Hogsmeade visit be a good time, then?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “Because a girl could get used to this, Harry.”

He shoots her reflection a surprisingly tender look before throwing his cloak on, too. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling. Assuming there isn’t too much drama at work.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Ginny says fairly, “so long as we keep those middle-aged witches at bay.” She smirks and turns around to eye the red patches on his neck. “I think I’ve thoroughly marked you, but you never know...”

Harry laughs and uselessly tries to run a hand through his hair. Ginny muses, not for the first time, that his unruly hair serves a purpose in times like these; no one can tell if he’s been shagged or not.

With that in mind, she turns to the door with a skip in her step — but she quickly discovers Harry’s not on the same page. He’s suddenly become a bit contemplative, a bit sullen. His brow draws in a grimace as he kicks the floor with his trainer.

“Erm… but seriously, Ginny,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m sorry you went through that last year.” He winces again, staring at his cuticles, before he turns to her with a shrug. “I’m glad I’m not there anymore, though. You seem… happier.”

“Definitely happier,” she confirms, taking a step forward. “Definitely. With real you.”

A ghost of a smile flits across Harry’s lips as he takes her hand. Ginny just leans into his warmth. Leans into him. Desperate to prove — again — how real he is.

“I’m quite fucking in love with you, actually,” Harry murmurs, eyes still focused on their joined hands. “Even if I can only show it by shagging you in hotel rooms every few months.”

He pulls back with a reluctant sigh, and when he peers at her again, his eyes are filled with so much love and devotion and compassion that she could cry.

If she were the sort who did that, of course. Which she’s not.

Right.

So Ginny pushes down the swell of emotion, the warring forces of pleasure and pain, the feeling of the past meeting the present… and opts to torture him, instead. She rises to her tiptoes, drapes her arms around his neck, and leans in to deliver the final blow.

“You only visit me when I touch myself,” she whispers, nibbling at the shell of his ear.

And in retrospect, Ginny will accept that Harry’s answering groan was 100% worth the snide looks she got from Hermione the rest of the night.

#harry/ginny #hinny fanfic #implied smut #anonymous prompt #harry and ginny

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maiaofmischief · 4 years ago

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Ask Meme

Thank you for the tag, @zeldabard!

why’d you choose your url? Maia, as in the god-like beings from LOTR/Silmarillion, and of Mischief, because I enjoy causing harmless mischief. So, God of Mischief, essentially.

any side blogs? Yes, quite a few honestly. In the little page here there is a full list. However the ones that are active (and not just defunct rp/fan blogs from when that was a thing that I still occasionally post things on out of nostalgia) are:

Mischievious Midnight, my Halloween/autumn blog

Winter Wonder Mischief, my Winter/holiday blog

Mischievious Adventures, my d&d blog

how long have you been on tumblr? Since April of 2012. Yikes, that’s almost 10 years.

do you have a queue tag? I do not. Generally, almost everything that you see on my blog is something I’ve queued. There are exceptions (usually new posts that I make tend to be posted as soon as I finish them, or if there are a ton of posts at once that’s me blogging live) but I feel like it would be weird if I started doing it now after so long of not having one.

why did you start your blog? hmm. Its been a long time, but there was a blog I had stumbled across that was doing some rp-esque posts (like workplace memos or something) that I liked enough that I wanted to know when they posted new things and beyond that I found all sorts of things to keep my interest and make me want to stay.

why did you choose your icon? The current one is me in cosplay as Revan. I was pretty damn proud of my costume (and still am, honestly, even if I’d more or less redo the whole thing if I ever was doing Revan again) since I made it with literally no help out of craft foam. It really doesn’t look like it was as cheap as it was to make. Eventually, when I have a cosplay I’m more proud of than that, I’ll probably update my icon.

what’s your post with the most notes? That I’ve posted? Probably this one.

how many followers do you have? 194

how many people do you follow? 974, which is both a lot and not a lot, given a lot of them are seasonal blogs or post only very rarely.

have you ever made a shitpost? There are some random ass musings on there that could qualify, but nothing specific comes to mind.

how often do you use tumblr? I check it in the morning and before bed. If I’m having a bad day or a boring day, I’ll probably check it more than that to distract myself.

did you have a funny argument with a blog once? No, I tend not to argue on here.

how do you feel about reblog bait? I hate them, if the general post was good but someone tacked that on in a later reblog, I’ll go back to the source to find one that doesn’t have that garbage on it. If I can’t find one without (like if it is in the original post) I won’t reblog it even if I agree with the general sentiment. I don’t like anyone telling me what I have to do and I like even less the ones that have some sort of scare tactic associated with it. I’m immune to your shitty chain letters, internet, I’ve been getting them in one form or another (email back in the day, on here now) and I’m never going to give into your assholishness.

do you like tag games? Love them. They are a lot of fun. It might take a day or so to answer them (since I tend to do them on my actual computer versus mobile) but I enjoy them a lot.

which one of your moots do you think is tumblr famous? Honestly, couldn’t tell you. Most likely it’d be someone I least suspect. (Also, I’ve never heard the term ‘moots’ to describe mutals before... when did that start? I feel old now.)

do you have a crush on one of your moots? Well, I’m dating one of them... so... does that count?

I’m tagging: @kamenriderblaze, @sirofchaos, @themegnificentmage, @xander-ereinion, @ageless-aislynn, @gizmo1022, @tinx-methinks, and anyone else who would want to do it!

#tag game

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raysofcrosby · 5 years ago

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LITTLE DO YOU KNOW PT. 7

"𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦–– 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦'𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵." – 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐀𝐦𝐲 & 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐫

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series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: slight *unprotected* smut, implied sexual situations, otherwise its just fluffy convo.

word count: 10,282 [it’s a fucking novel ladies and gents, better buckle up]

authors note: FIRST AND FOREMOST, i’m going to apologize for the horribly written smut. i never write smut bc 1) i suck at it and 2) it makes me feel awkward lmao [sidenote: safe sex is great sex!!!]. also, if a boy did for me what tyler did for baby benn in this– then homeboy could like...get it. ALSO this ending wasn’t supposed to be the original ending, but i feel like it adds a little more oomph when it comes to small things involving the storyline– so i hope it doesn’t flop. i hope you guys’ enjoy! i love reading your comments, seeing your tags in the reblogs and just seeing that you guys’ enjoy this story as much as i enjoy writing it! without further ado, here’s part 7!

Your weekend with Tyler was exactly what you needed as a break away from school and of course, the biggest blessing Dallas was about to receive– the rest of the Benn's. Jordie was in town with the Canucks and your parents, Jenn, your brother-in-law, and your niece were all flying down to not only have a small visit with you before you traveled home for Christmas but to also see the two boys play against each other. Sure, they were able to see Jamie and Jordie play against each other only a few days ago when the Stars stopped in Vancouver, but there was one thing that the game didn't have– you. And you were never one to toot your own horn when it came to your siblings, but you were the favorite– second to Jenny at times. She was the firstborn and she had blessed your parents with a grandchild way before the rest of you. But you were the baby, and that was always a prize.

The rest of your family all got into Dallas around the same time, but since you had class and Jamie and Jordie had workouts, you guys didn't plan to get together until lunch, which unfortunately for Jamie, cut into his pre-game nap– but at least he'd get a free meal out of it, thanks to your parents. Until then though, you were suffering in your classes, too busy thinking about this past weekend and telling Kennedy everything you'd learned from Brandon about this Maisy girl. Kennedy didn't know who she was, and being the best friend ever, kept you out of your own worst thoughts by assuring you that if the relationship was as serious as Brandon said it was– Tyler wouldn't have played it off as nothing.

And that kept the bad thoughts out of your head for most of the day, until it came time to pick Jamie up at his place. The conversation in the car between your parents, you and Kennedy also kept you distracted– it was easy to talk about how school was going and how her family was doing, but when they mentioned your internship, it was hard not to immediately think about Tyler. Thankfully, by the time that came around, you guys were pulling up to Jamie's. Before your dad could even put the rental into park, you offered to run up and grab Jamie, that way they didn't have to get out of the car. You ran up the front steps and rang the doorbell an obnoxious amount of times and when the door opened, you were pleased to see Jenn standing there with a smile on her face.

"You know, there's a child sleeping in here," she joked, wrapping you in in a hug.

"Sleep is for the weak, Jenn. Kennedy is in the car with mom and dad, just send her to the back of the SUV so you guys can make room for the car seat."

"That's okay, Y/N. I managed to snag a sick rental," Andrew, your brother-in-law smiled, walking past with the car seat in his hands and giving you a one-armed hug.

"And by sick, he means a red 4runner," Jenn rolled her eyes as Andrew carried the car seat to their rental in the driveway. "He really just left without letting you see her, didn't he?"

"I'll see my favorite niece at lunch, that's fine," you laughed, watching as she put her purse on her shoulder. "Is he inside?"

"Jamie? Oh yeah, he's almost ready. We'll go ahead and follow you guys to the restaurant."

You nodded and walked inside as she walked out to their rental, closing the door behind her. "JAMIE EVERYONE'S READY BUT YOU!" You yelled out, unsure just where he was in his house.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N. You don't need to blow a guy's eardrum out like that," he groaned, walking from around the corner. "I just need to finish my hair and then grab water and I'm ready to head out."

"J...why are you even bothering to do your hair when you'll mess it up during your nap?"

He stopped in his tracks as if the thought never even crossed his mind. "Well, fine. But let me grab a hat at least so I don't have to brush it."

You sighed and leaned against the stairway, looking around his house aimlessly. When your eyes landed on an old picture of him and Tyler with Dude Perfect, a thought entered your mind. "Hey J? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, why not?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering whether or not you should ask. Would it make Jamie suspicious to...whatever the hell you and Tyler had? Would he tease you for even wanting to know? "Do you know who Maisy is?"

"Huh?"

"Maisy! Do you–" You started to yell, only to see him come back down the hallway with a hat in his hands. "Do you know who Maisy is?"

He didn't even bother to stop this time, only walking away and into his kitchen. "Like, Tyler's Maisy?"

Your stomach dropped then and there straight into the bottom of your shoes. 'Tyler's Maisy.' You weren't sure if it was the nonchalant way that he said it or the fact that he just confirmed that Brandon wasn't lying that made you feel so uneasy– but either way...you were.

"Yeah, where they like...a thing?"

He came out of the kitchen holding onto two water bottles and tossing you one. A genuine look of concern on his face sent your heartbeat into overdrive as you tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible. "I mean, yeah. I don't know if they were ever really official, but she was his man hookup all last season."

He walked away again, this time coming back and shoving his wallet into his short pockets. "She also kind of played a roll in why he had to pick his new house so fast. Granted he already had two settled, but I guess she accidentally leaked his address on Instagram or snapchat or something after order postmates." He opened the front door, grabbing his house keys off of the hanger. "Also, there was this huge spamming thing from random accounts on twitter, some sports forum and other crap saying he needed to go public with her. They'd even comment on Candace and Cassidy's stuff."

As you followed him out of the door, it all started to make sense as to why Tyler didn't want you to ever post that you were at his house– it wasn't fully out of fear that Jamie would know you were there...but because he was scared that maybe you'd leak his address. And while that revelation made you feel a little more at ease, you couldn't help but acknowledge the hint of sadness when you connected Brandon's comments about Tyler not letting Maisy post stuff, to what Jamie just confirmed.

"I think he broke it off in the summer though, why?"

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and walked ahead of him. "Oh nothing, I just heard some frat guys talking about her when I dropped Cole's stuff off."

"Yeah, well I wasn't the only one who warned Seggy about getting involved with a college girl. I mean, I got lucky with Katie, but there's also a three year age difference between us." You were shocked at Jamie's reply as he walked ahead of you this time. "Tyler's going for girls now where the age difference is like six to seven years– I mean, maybe mentally he's right for them, but it's just...I don't know it never works out and we keep trying to tell him that, but you know how he is."

You just smiled and nodded as he opened the car door for you and you saw Kennedy climb into the next row of seats. You followed suit, saving a seat for when you went to pick up Jordie and ultimately ending your conversation there. The conversation picked up between everyone in the car as you made your way to your lunch destination, but you were lost in your little world, resting on the things both Brandon and Jamie have said...plus the fact that Tyler would be joining you guys for the post-game dinner in just a few hours.

How bad could it all go?

❒❒❒❒

Dinner was going to be a fun time and it would only be because you were going to be witness to Jamie rubbing it into Jordie's face that they beat them twice in less than a week. Little brother beating big brother– the theme to their entire childhood, was enough to entertain your dinner for 11. They spent a good five minutes arguing about who would cover the check, Jamie or Jordie and for a hot second, they both agreed that you would cover it– but a quick reminder that you were a college senior with no job and an unpaid internship, shut them down real quick. Otherwise, dinner was fun and heartwarming.

Your parents had invited Big Rig and Tyler along– Big Rig once they learned that he and Kennedy were an item, and Tyler because he was like another son to them, and Jamie's best friend. Luckily for you, the way everyone ended up being seated around the table, you had Kennedy and Big Rig to your right, and Tyler to your left, before it moved on to Jenn at the end of the table with your niece. The conversations were flowing all across the table and seemingly never-ending, everyone around the table, at least once, having the conversation focused on them. With Big Rig, it was his sister and if he liked being back in Dallas versus being in Pittsburgh.

With Kennedy, it was how her family's work is going and whether she was ready to deal with the Canadian cold come Christmas. Jamie and Jordie were tied together, the same with Tyler when they weren't asking about how his family was doing. With you, it was school and how your internship with the team was going– and God the conversation seemed never-ending. But you weren't sure if it was because you hated being the topic of everyone at dinner or if it was Tyler's hand resting on your thigh.

The entire night, beneath the table Tyler had been touching you. At first, it was knocking his knee against your own now and then before full on pressing his leg against yours. Then it escalated to him touching your leg and eventually keeping a hold on your leg throughout dinner. Acts that seemingly everyone around the table was oblivious to. And during dinner, the two of you kept up your chirping at one another like it was another day in the locker room, though there were few moments that slipped through, where it was like you were the only two in the room. A time, that once or twice, Kennedy had to nudge you with her knee to warn you that your flirtationship with Tyler was starting to make its presence known in front of your family. You would then nudge Tyler with your leg, signaling for him that the two of you needed to cool it down a little, but then you'd place a hand on his thigh, letting him know that a little touch was still okay. While keeping it on the low was a high priority, you couldn't help but feel reassured about Tyler's feelings towards you with those small touches– for they cast away any doubts you'd been thinking only hours before.

Everything was fine until you got up to go to the bathroom just before Jordie handed off his card to pay the bill, at least you thought it was. Because the moment you walked out of the bathroom, Jordie was leaning against the awning for the bathroom hallway, waiting for you. "Creeper isn't a good look, Jordie." You joked, brushing by him as you continued to shake your hands dry of the water that the air dryer didn't get.

"Is there something going on with you and Seggy?"

The question stopped you in your tracks, both because you had feared that maybe he had picked up on something during dinner and because he had asked so blatantly that you were scared someone else would hear. "What?" You asked, turning around.

He moved off of the wall, still crossing his arms and walked up to you. He looked around before looking back at you again. "Is there something going on with you and Seggy?"

"What?" This time, the question didn't come from you, but from Jamie who had just walked towards the bathroom awning. "No way, that's ridiculous!"

You looked between the two Benn brothers, Jamie looking at Jordie as if he was insulted that Jordie even suggested it, and Jordie giving you his 'I'm your big brother, I'm not as oblivious as this idiot so I already know the answer' look. "What are you three talking about?"

We looked to see our Mom coming around the corner with everyone else slowly trickling behind. "Jordie seems to think that Y/N and Tyler have something going on, which is stupid and he's probably just still bitter that he lost."

Your mom just looks between the three of you with raised eyebrows before nodding her head. As if he had perfect timing, Tyler came strolling around the corner and plopped two hands on Jamie's shoulders. "I'm going pee and then I'm headed home, the dogs need to be fed and let out."

You sent up a silent prayer to the Universe at the fact Tyler hadn't offered to drive you back to your dorm, especially after Jordie had seemingly connected the dots. "I'm going to catch wait by Big Rig's car, he's taking Kennedy home...so I'm catching a ride." You smiled, before removing yourself from the situation and walking out into the crisp, night air.

It felt too stuffy in that restaurant all of a sudden and for the first time all night, you were grateful that your parents were staying with Jamie at his place instead of a hotel. That way, they had no choice but to take him straight home before they called it a night. They weren't obligated to drive you back to your dorm and both the Stars and your family were heading out of Dallas the next day.

"Hi, Sweetie." You turned around to see your mom making her way over to Big Rig's vehicle, pulling her cardigan across her chest. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you huffed, nodding towards the restaurant. "It was just a little hot in there."

She nodded, seemingly accepting your pathetic excuse. She barely let the silence settle between you before she spoke again. "You know I love you and that no matter what it is, you don't have to keep secrets from me...right?"

You tried not to let your face give it away, that you knew where she was going with her conversation. "Y-Yeah, I do..."

She took a deep breath before turning to look back at the restaurant, making sure the coast was clear. "Is Jordie right? About you and Tyler? Is there...something going on between you?"

When Jordie had asked, you were fearful– scared that he would judge you on being with Tyler, your brother's best friend, hell...a close family friend in general. That if he knew, all of a sudden he'd see you as just another one of Tyler's playthings and not Y/N...his younger sister. But when your mom asked, it was like the pressure of hiding it, mixed with a huge swell of emotions just washed completely over you, drowning you if it could, and you started to cry.

"Y-Yes..." You let out a small gasp as you went to speak immediately after your confession, "but please don't be mad at me mom– please don't–"

She took you into her arms and hugged you tightly, a hand resting at the back of your head and shooshing you to calm you down. You closed your eyes, taking in her embrace as you felt your shoulders feel a little lighter at the confession. When you pulled away, she held onto both of your hands before smiling at you. "So you and Tyler, you're...dating?"

"Yes...No..." You sighed, wiping your cheeks and shaking your head. "I don't know."

Your mom laughed, which was a reaction that you didn't expect from her. "I'll never understand this generation and your definition of relationships. Just tell me one thing...do you like him?"

You looked down at the ground, thinking about the last few days that you'd spent with Tyler and smiling at the way he made you feel and the funny moments in between. "I do...a lot. We have fun together, you know? It's just...it's easy."

"And I assume that Jamie doesn't know?"

You looked away from her again, nodding your head in shame. "We haven't told him yet...I'm just, scared of what he'll think."

"He's your brother, Y/N. I'm sure he'll think no less of you because of who you're dating." She sighed, squeezing your hand and gaining your attention. "And Tyler, well he is quite the step up from Cole."

"Yeah," you laughed, smiling at her. "He really is." As your eyes skimmed her face, your heart and brain prepared you for the 'but' that you knew was coming.

"Tyler's just..." Your mom shook her head, sighing again. "He's a little too old for you, don't you think?" She must have seen the look on your face when those words left her mouth because she held onto your arms and looked worried.

"I'm only saying that because well, the two of you are in very different stages of your lives. He's almost 28 and he's been in the adult world long enough to find out who he is and what he wants for his life. And you...you're barely 22, about to graduate college and experience the real adult world for the first time. You still need to find out who you are and what you want."

You understood what she meant and took her fear into account because if you were being honest...she had a point. Besides the summertime, you were in school for 9 months out of the year, living to a strict class schedule and figuring out your day to day routine without the fear of bills lingering over your head. You've had your little taste of the adult world, but come May you were about to get smacked in the face with reality...whereas Tyler's already figured out his life.

"Just...be careful, okay? You can have your time and relationship with Tyler, but don't lose yourself in this."

"Thanks, Mom, I love you." You whispered, hugging her close and wishing with everything that she didn't have to go back home tomorrow.

"I love you too sweetie." She pulled away and cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "Now promise me that you won't hide this from your brother forever, okay? It'd be a lot worse for him to find out from someone else rather than hear it straight from the both of you."

You only nodded in reply as the rest of your dinner group walked up, saying their goodbyes before separating to their cars. You lingered your goodbyes with Jenn and Jordie, telling them that you'd see them come Christmas time before hopping in the back of Big Rig's car and burying yourself out of sight. The entire ride back to the dorm, you were playing countless scenarios of how you'd tell Jamie about you and Tyler, hoping that there'd be the magic one that would solve every worry you had.

Only they all ended horribly wrong.

To make matters a little more stressful, when you got to your room, Kennedy had asked if she and Big Rig could have some private time alone. You agreed because at least one of you was going to get laid after that stressful dinner. So you did what you always did, packed an overnight bag and sent Tyler a text, wondering if he'd mind some company.

Of course, be there soon! 😁 All of your boys miss you (me included if you weren't aware)

Oh also, pack a bathing suit 😏

You quickly shoved your hottest bikini into your overnight bag and wished the two lovers goodnight, not failing to remind them to stay safe because you were too young to become an aunt again. They laughed you out of your dorm room and you raced down the stairs and out towards the parking lot where you knew Tyler would be waiting.

When his headlights shined on you, you felt a little burst of happiness rush through your veins as you climbed up into his jeep and immediately greeted him with a kiss before he could even say a word. "Wow, not that I'm complaining but...what was that for?" He laughed, waiting for you to put your seatbelt on before driving away.

"For saving me from having to wait hours before I could sleep in my sinful dorm room."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Wow, sinful dorm room? Is it that bad?"

"Tyler...we barely got two steps into the room before she straight up said 'I need to get laid, can I have the room?'" You joined in with his contagious laughter. "They're lucky I love them so much."

"Well, I for one am grateful for their horny actions," he reached and grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing your hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of yours. "Because now I get to spend the night with you and show you my surprise."

"Does it have anything to do with me needing to pack a bathing suit?"

He wiggled his eyebrows and kissed your hand again. "It has everything to do with a bathing suit. Speaking of," he let your hands rest on the center console. "Did you pack the...what did Kennedy call it? The raunchy red bikini?"

"Shut up, that was so embarrassing!" You leaned over and smacked his shoulder with your free hand as you felt your cheeks warm up. "And for your information...yes, yes I did. But if you keep teasing me, you won't get to see it."

Tyler coughed, this time trying his best to hide the fact that he was getting a little bashful. "There are two ways I could take that statement...and I'm not sure which one you meant."

God the two of you were practically downing in the awkward, sexual tension that surrounded you. You knew which two ways he was speaking of, too– either you don't do whatever activity involved your bathing suit, or you go full-on nude during whatever activity. And in all honesty, the thought of being naked with Tyler has been lingering in the back of your mind since the weekend when Kennedy asked if the two of you had had sex yet.

Plus, let's be honest...you've seen his ESPN body issue shoot...and seeing him naked wasn't the worst thing in the world.

When you guys got to his house, you greeted the dogs before he could manage to usher them all away from you. He handed you your bag and kissed your cheek before nodding at you to go upstairs. "Go ahead and drop your stuff off and get dressed, then meet me outside."

The chill he sent down your spine lasted well into your trip up the stairs and into his bedroom. You could only wonder what he had planned but made sure to keep your imagination tamed as you stripped off in his bedroom and put on your bathing suit. Which, until Kennedy said so, you didn't perceive as all that raunchy. It was your favorite, simply because its fabric hugged you in all the right places– making you feel like you could take on the world...if you were going to take on the world half-naked. When you left his room and walked back down the stairs and outside, the cool night air greeted you and the light wind blew some of your hair into your face. When you looked out for Tyler, you heard mumblings of music and saw lights stationed around the jacuzzi.

Holy shit, he put fucking candles around his jacuzzi and had music playing nearby? Cheesy? Everyone else would think so. But the fact that you had just broken up with a boyfriend who never really did anything like this for you...it was cute and romantic. It got better when you walked closer to the jacuzzi to see that the little candles were electronic and you couldn't help but laugh.

"I know, I know, it looks stupid, but the wind and fire hazard," Tyler said, keeping his back to you, across the way in the jacuzzi as he adjusted the volume on the Bluetooth speaker– before turning your way and smiling. "But its the thought that counts, right?"

"Tyler, what is this?" You laughed, sliding off your shoes at the edge before stepping in.

He walked across and reached out his hand, holding onto yours and making sure you didn't fall in. "You've been studying like crazy lately, plus dealing with us needy assholes almost every day...so I decided that you need to relax."

You had to admit, the moment that your body was engulfed by the hot water and jets– you were relaxed. It felt like if Tyler wasn't holding on to your hand, you'd probably slipped under and let the water swallow you up. You never realized just how tired your body was. You sat across from him, extending your legs out and letting them float as you closed your eyes and felt the jets against your back. "Is this what you do after every game? Come here and forget your troubles?"

"Usually," he laughed, moving his arms in the water. "Though sometimes I'll take an icebath upstairs or when you're here, I just kind of chill out. It all depends on how much energy I have left."

You sighed, letting the feeling of the water take over your mind as you laid there listening to what seemed like a top 50 hits playlist. "I wish I had one of these in my dorm room. God, I think I'd go from the library to my bathroom and never leave. Studying is stupid, don't ever do it. It's hard to believe finals are only–"

"Ah, ah, ah!" He said, interrupting you and reaching out for your leg, tugging you out of your relaxed state. "No school talk. This is why we got into the jacuzzi, now come here."

You sat up and walked over to where he was. He grabbed onto your shoulders, turned you around and placed you in front of him in the space between his legs. "Loosen up and relax, Y/N. I'm not going to drown you."

You took a deep breath and sighed, closing your eyes and anticipating what he was going to do. When you felt his calloused hands on your shoulders, you stayed relaxed. Only when he started to add pressure with his thumbs did you realize what he was doing. "Okay wow, did you go to massage school or something?"

He laughed, moving towards the center of your neck. "No, but I've had enough done that I remember a few things."

You felt his breath along the back of your neck as he continued to apply pressure with his hands and dig into your shoulders with his thumbs. It felt good, really good and you had to bit down on your lip to prevent a moan from coming out of your mouth. It was one thing that Tyler was giving you a candlelit massage in his jacuzzi, but it was another thing for you to moan out just how good he was doing. Your mind wandered down the road of no return as his hands kept doing the Lord's work. You couldn't help but wonder how his hands would feel if they were touching and massaging other parts of you and how bad you wished that they would just linger a little bit lower than their current location.

"See, now isn't this better than talking about school?"

You were too lost in your daydream until you heard the moan you'd been holding back, escape from the back of your throat. You felt embarrassed because the moment you let it happen, Tyler had paused his hand movements for only a second, before picking them back up. You sat there, biting the inside of your cheek and focusing on how fast your heart was racing against your chest.

Should you do it?

What would he do if you did?

"Fuck it," you whispered, stepping out from under Tyler's hands and turning to face him.

"What?" He laughed, "Did I suck that bad?"

You didn't say anything as you moved closer to him and crawled onto his lap. You felt his quads tighten and watched as his eyes went wide, almost as if he was too afraid to move because he was too focused on what you were doing. You were nervous as hell, never really one to make big moves like this, but you were tired of just dancing in circles with Tyler and more than anything, you were hoping that taking the leap on this one...wouldn't bite you in the ass.

You wrapped your arms around his neck before leaning in and pressing your lips solidly against his. It was like the first time he kissed you, nothing crazy, just a kiss. And when he didn't kiss you back, you felt yourself begin to get swallowed up by a hole on embarrassment. No sooner than you went to pull away, Tyler grabbed your lower back and pulled you further onto his lap, groaning quietly before kissing you again. This time his mouth moved with your own, setting the pace that you were more than pleased to follow. You were the first to tease, dragging your tongue slowly across his bottom lip before he took it up a level and teased your tongue with his own. Your fingers looped around the back of his head, tangling themselves in his curls, just as he brought one of his hands down to your hip and tugs you against him once more.

Goosebumps erupted over your entire body the moment his hands started to wander across your skin. One stayed beneath the water, constantly guiding you across his lap as the other wandered across your belly before landing on the side of one of your breasts, his thumb rubbing over the front of your top. It was like he had well-timed the entire ordeal, because the moment you moaned at the sensation coming from beneath your top, Tyler stuck his tongue back into your mouth before biting down softly on your bottom lip. When you went to kiss him again, you untangled your fingers from his curls and untying the back of your bathing suit, taking the material and blindly tossing it aside before pressing your bare chest against Tyler and kissing him harder.

You were desperate to get him to understand just how badly you wanted him and when you could feel all of him brushing against your inner thigh, you sped up your movements, rolling your hips against him as he held onto your hips tightly. "Oh Fuck Y/N," he groaned, letting his head fall away from you.

You took the opportunity to reach your hands down into the water and grab onto his swim trunks, searching for the tied strings. You started to feel embarrassed at how you couldn't find them until you felt Tyler stir and you looked up to see him staring blatantly at your chest– reaching for a breast and cupping it. "You weren't wrong," he looked up at you with his childlike smile cupping the other breast and massaging them both. "Your boobs are pretty great."

You laughed before leaning in and kissing him, running your hands down his stomach and coming to a stop, once again at the waistband on his swim trunks. "No strings, you just tug em," he pulled back and reached his hands beneath the water, shifting as you felt the fabric of his swim trunks brush against your bottom. "It's easy science."

You rolled your eyes as he brought you back into his chest and you let your hands continue their journey down his body. To your, happy, surprise, the waistband of his swim trunks was no longer blocking your way. He kissed down your neck as you felt his hands wander down to your bottoms, twirling with the strings on either side of your hips. "Yes," you breathed out before he could even ask the question, even nodding your head in case he wouldn't get the signal.

His tugs on the strings of your bottoms were in synch and you felt him pull the fabric away from your body, leaving you vulnerable and naked beneath the water and on his lap. His hands traveled down to your butt as he tugged you closer against him, to the point where you could feel his cock resting between the both of you.

As he continued his assault on your neck, one bite caused you to moan loudly and he pulled away with wide eyes and a smile. "Not going to lie, that was kind of hot, and I’m definitely a big fan of the red raunchy bikini..."

You smiled, before the reality of your situation set in and you looked down at the water. The adrenaline was running through your veins, making you feel on top of the world– this was it. You and Tyler were going to finally have sex.

"I-I've never done this before," you blurted out, swallowing the small nervous knot in your throat.

Tyler stopped kissing down your chest and pulled back, looking at you. The look on his face could only be described as one that was worrisome as his hands cradled your lower back. "I thought...I mean...you and Cole never..."

"Oh no! No, no, no, we did!" Only then did you realize what your statement had made him think and you wanted to do nothing more than drown yourself in the jacuzzi. "That ship sailed a long time ago, like a lonnnng time ago. Junior winter formal, Jack Makenzie at Jamie's cabin– post formal party. Though, don't tell him that because I kind of lied and said it would be only girls, but it was actually–"

Tyler leaned forward and kissed you softly, a hand coming up to the left side of your face and cradling it. When he pulled away, his thumb was rubbing along your cheekbone. "Relax, Y/N, it's just me. If you don't want to do this, we don't have to. We can cuddle in bed and fall asleep."

"No, I want to do this, I want this..." You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes only for a moment before looking back at him. "I want you, I just...I've never done it in a hot tub before so..."

Tyler tried so hard to hide his dire want to laugh, but as always, he failed and burst out into laughter. He kissed you once, twice and pressed his head against yours. "You're such a dork, you know that? And I love that about you."

Your heart fluttered when he said it, and while you know that he probably didn't mean the big L...it still felt the same. You pressed yourself against him and kissed him until you were out of breath. When you pulled away, you kept your forehead pressed against his as the both of you tried to catch your breath.

It should be noted that hooking up in a jacuzzi, will leave you just as breathless as the hooking up itself– and you were going to be sure to mention that to Kennedy as a lesson learned.

Tyler's hands traveled up your sides, resting on your ribs before you looked at him. His eyes were staring into yours as if he was trying to find any hint of regret– that you weren't choosing to do this because it was a spur of the moment thing. You nodded before breathing out a breathless 'yes' and his hands traveled back down to your waist and beneath the water.

You were waiting for the touch of his you'd been longing for and when it'd yet to come you looked at him to see he has a sheepish smile on his face. "Do you want to uh..." his eyes traveled to the water, "I just don't want to um...I want it to be comfortable for you and you can set it at your own pace and–"

This time, you cut him off with a kiss before laughing and nodding your head. You took a short, but deep breath as a way to calm yourself before dipping your hand beneath the water and finding Tyler's wrist. You followed it to his hand, lingering your touch against his fingers before grasping his cock in your hand. He coughed to cover up his groan at your added touch but kept his eyes on you as you positioned yourself over him.

The both of you took sharp inhales of breath as you suck down onto him, one hand grasping onto his chest as you felt your head fall back slightly in relief. You took your time, taking him in and admiring the slight burn of him stretching you out. You needed to go slow, it's been months since you've had sex and Tyler was considerably thicker and longer than Cole.

"Y/N..." He whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and kissing your neck. "You need to breathe, babe."

"Sorry, it's just...it's been a while and you're so..." His hips tugged you down softly the last few inches and you moaned, falling into his chest. "Oh fuck."

You stayed pressed against his chest, focusing on breathing as he told you too– all in the while, he was stilled within you, rubbing your sides and switching between kissing your neck and your shoulder blades. As soon as he turned his face into the crook of your neck, you relaxed and pulled back nodding your head. "You ready? Can I move?"

"Yeah," you leaned in and kissed him hard, a clash of teeth and lips before moving to his neck and nipping just below his jaw. "Go ahead."

He thrust his hips up, pushing himself further into you and hitting a spot that made your legs feel like jello. When you felt him smirk against your neck, you laughed to yourself and knew that it was game on. You weren't one to toot your own horn, but little did Tyler know, this position was your expertise. You always had Cole melted like putty in your hands whenever you topped him and unfortunately...or fortunately for Tyler, he was about to find out.

You raised your hips and circled them before sinking back down again, grinding down onto him hard. "Oh fuck that..." his head fell back as his grip on your waist loosened, giving you more control. "That feels so fucking good."

You grinned to yourself as you placed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him against the wall of the jacuzzi, earning wide eyes and a smirk from Tyler. "Oh, shit Y/N...are you trying to dominate me?"

Your only reply was a flirty grin and your hips grinding down against him harder before clenching down onto him, causing him to choke on the breath he'd been holding. As you quicken your pace, Tyler started to meet you halfway but keeping his focus on his hands massaging your breasts.

"Tyler...fuck." You moaned, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and focusing on how good he was making you feel...until a jingling sound tore you away. "Did you hear that?"

"Huh? What?" He mumbled, thrusting his hips up again, completely enamored in you to even pay attention.

You heard more jingling, this time your eyes focusing on the house. You grabbed Tyler's face and turned his head towards the backdoor. "It's coming from over there...wait..is that?"

"Oh no, you've got to be kidding me," He groaned, stilling inside you and bringing you closer to his chest as the two of you watched the three figures get closer. "No! Go, bad boys!"

The three furry Seguins came running up to the two of you, tails wagging and tongues out. Gerry attacked Tyler's face with kisses as Cash and Marshall tried their best to get to you. Tyler wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you into him as he shooed the dogs away with the other. "Go away, you're ruining it!"

You laughed, pulling your face out of his chest before patting it. "I don't think they're going away any time soon."

He looked at you, pouting before groaning. "I just got cockblocked by my own dogs, man's best friend my ass."

"Who said we were done?" You replied, climbing off of his lap.

He raised his eyebrows and let his eyes linger on you before he tugged up his swim trunks and climbed out of the jacuzzi. He picked up a towel and unfolded it, holding it up for you.

You stepped out of the jacuzzi, easily feeling his gaze linger on you before stepping towards the towel and letting him wrap you up in it.

He picked up his towel, wrapping it around his waist and touching your elbow. "Meet me in our room while I go deal with these," he turned his attention towards the dogs, who were all sitting down and staring at you both with big smiles. "Very bad boys."

You watched as he walked the dogs back into the house and took that time to not only collect your bathing suit but to turn off all of the lights and grab the Bluetooth speaker. As you made your way into the house, you couldn't wrap your mind about what just happened. Every time you tried to, the result was always the same:

Holy shit, you just had sex with Tyler.

And the butterflies haven't left your body at the way he called his bedroom, your bedroom or how slow and gentle he had been with you. It's only been a few moments since the dogs interrupted you, but you swore that you could still feel his touch and you were more than positive that you'd never forget the way he felt. When you got to the bedroom, you walked into the bathroom and laid your bathing suit over the tub before placing the speaker onto the counter and walking back into the room.

Now it felt like a waiting game and you could feel your nerves start to return– mainly in the fear of, what if he doesn't want to continue? You were beginning to pace around the room, clinging to your towel before you saw it– his jersey. The jersey he let you wear on Halloween, the one Jamie said he was waiting to get boxed up in a shadow box. You smiled, dropping your towel and walking over to the jersey, picking it up and letting it fall down your body. As you heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, you quickly walked back over to the bed, standing at the end of it and kicked the towel away.

"I don't know how the hell they even got out! I could've sworn that I left them in the–" He stopped in the doorway, his eyes glued to you in his jersey and you could tell that he was seconds away from drooling.

"So?" You smiled, raising an eyebrow as he made his way over to you.

"I wanted to have you the first time I saw you in the jersey," he smiled, making his way over to you. "With nothing but spandex, heels, and those cute bunny ears."

"Aw shucks," you pouted jokingly, "no bunny ears."

His hands traveled up the bottom of the jersey and ran across your bare skin, coming to a stop on your hips. "I like this outfit much, much better."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling up at him. "Even without the ears?"

"Hell yeah," he replied, pulling you into him and kissing your cheek, moving down to your neck. "But I can always go and buy another pair."

"No need," you grinned as he playfully nipped your neck and you pushed him away. "Well, I think we've got too many clothes on, Seguin. What about you?"

"I think we can fix that," he replied and you watched as his childlike grin took over his face before he pounced on you, playfully tackling you onto his bed and sending you both into a giggle fit.

❒❒❒❒

When you woke up the next morning, the two of you were intertwined in mess of limbs and bedsheets. He had his face smashed into his pillow and he was drooling a little bit, add in his slight snoring and you knew that he was still sleeping hard. And you couldn't blame him, because last night was the most physical activity you had in a long time and if it wasn't for your immediate need to pee, you'd still be sleeping too. You snuck out from beneath his arm and he immediately stirred away, glaring at you with sleepy eyes. "No, come back."

"We have to get up, Ty," you groaned as he pulled you back into him. "We have to be at the arena in an hour for morning skate and we both need to shower."

His eyes shot open and he smiled at you. "Shower sex?"

"If you get up now, then–"

He practically jumped on top of you and kissed you before rolling off and running into the bathroom, stark ass naked. "I've got the water, you bring yourself and we're all set!"

"You're insatiable, Tyler!" You laughed, leaning up on your elbows and looking into the bathroom.

He peeked out from around the corner, still with a smile on his face. "I don't know what that means, but it sounds kind of hot so thank you." He disappeared back around the corner, the shower door opening. "Now get your cute ass in here so I can wash your hair."

Your time in the shower cut your 'get ready' time short, but Tyler made up for it by practically speeding to the arena. Luckily for Tyler, the morning skate wasn't going to be a normal practice, seeing as the Stars flew out to Nashville later that afternoon. When the two of you got out of the car, you told Tyler to walk ahead of you and that you'd wait for Big Rig, that way it wasn't suspicious of you to arrive with him rather than Tyler. When Tyler went to leave, Big Rig pulled up and you waved him down. You were leaning against Tyler's car when Big Rig walked up to you, adjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder. He stopped in front of you and took in your appearance before getting the biggest grin on his face.

"What's your problem, Teddy Bear?" You asked, looking back down at your phone to reply to a text from Kennedy.

"Oh yeah, you so got laid." He picked at a wet piece of your hair and smirked. "Last night and maybe some shower sex this morning I assume?"

You almost dropped your phone with how straightforward...and quite frankly correct, he was. "Don't say it so loud, you ass!" You smacked his stomach and he just laughed. "But how do you know?"

"You've got that post-sex glow," he waved his hand at you as the two of you made your way into the building. "Plus your RBF isn't as bad this morning like it always is."

"Oh shut up," You said, bumping into him as he kept laughing. "Don't think I don't know about your post-sex routine."

He gasped, looking at you with wide eyes. "She told you about that?"

You smirked and patted his chest. "We're best friends, Teddy Bear. I know everything." You eyed him up and down before patting him on the chest again and walked ahead of him.

"Wait! What do you mean everything! What did she say?"

You kept mum all while trying not to laugh as he kept begging you to spill the details on what you knew, your entire journey to the training room. And just when you were about to tell him, Jamie came jogging down the hall. "Y/N! I need you to grab my foam roller from the car, pretty please?"

"There's like five foam rollers in the room, why do you need yours?"

"Because everyone's using one and I forgot to bring it inside with me and my hamstrings are dying," he tossed you his car keys. "I'll tell Dave you're there, please!" You groaned, but ultimately agreed to go to his car and he smiled. "You're the best little sister ever!"

You turned to walk down the hallway, giving him a deadpan stare. "I'm your only little sister."

"Fine. Best sister!"

"I'm telling Jenn!"

He and Big Rig ignored your comeback and continued their way to the locker room as you made your way back out to the parking lot. On the bright side, this little detour gave you a little more time to yourself to absorb everything that happened last night, without having to do so in a room full of hockey players. Your busy night replayed in your mind and you pushed back the blush that so desperately wanted to make an appearance on your face. One thing that you couldn't help but wonder, is whether or not last night with Tyler and everything you guys did meant you were official on some kind of level.

"Nope, don't do that," you shut Jamie's car door, tucking his foam roller under your arm as you shook your head at yourself. "Don't be that girl who falls in love with a guy the moment you have sex."

Though to be fair, it was some pretty great sex. The best you've ever had and it only made sense as to how Tyler maintained to get so many girls throughout the years and kept them coming back. When you reached the training room, you stood outside of the door for only a few moments and composed yourself before opening it and walking inside.

You were immediately greeted with wild laughter and chirps being thrown left and right, the focus mainly being on Big Rig. "What's going on?" You asked, tossing Jamie his foam roller and walking over to your designated desk to grab the bands for Big Rig's stretching.

Dickinson smiled, wiggling his eyebrows in Big Rig's direction. "Oh nothing, just asking Big Rig how his trip to the zoo was."

"The zoo?" You came to a stop in front of Big Rig, handing him one end of the band. "When the hell did you go to the zoo?"

Big Rig looks at you before tugging onto the band and starting his stretches, trying his damndest to hide his blushing. "Not the literal zoo, Y/N," Pavs chimed in from across the room. "We're just pointing out how it looks like he jumped into an animal cage and got bit quite a few times."

You were confused as hell as you looked around the room to see everybody still laughing at Big Rig. When you turned your attention to him, your eyes widened the moment they landed on his neck. He had been wearing a sweatshirt beforehand, hiding the purple bruises that traveled below the shirt collar. "Holy fuck, what did she do to you?"

The boys' laughter roared again before fading as Big Rig finally looked at you with a groan. "She just wanted to celebrate the win." He tossed his towel at Rads and Dickinson. "At least I'm getting good sex, assholes."

You cringed, hitting him on the shoulder before moving towards your desk. "Please don't talk about that."

"I thought you already knew everything?" He replied, obviously mocking you.

"Yeah, but I don't need to hear YOU talk about it to your teammates, including my brother," you shuddered, shaking your head at the thought. "Ew."

"Hey Y/N, can you grab me two ibuprofen?" Jamie asked, raising his arm into the air.

You nodded and turned your attention over to the medicine cabinet, your back to the now relaxed and chattering group of men. The door opened again, followed by a whistle. "Looks like Big Rig wasn't the only one who found himself in bed with an animal, boys."

You rolled your eyes at Rad's comment, trying your best to mute out the guy talk as your eyes skimmed the shelves for the ibuprofen. "Jesus Seggy, did you and Big Rig take trips to the zoo together?" Miro chimed in, probably still a little confused at the metaphor.

"What the fuck are you on about, Miro?" Tyler asked, moving about the training room.

"Ha, got ya!" You smiled, reaching into the back of the cabinet and grabbing the bottle. You kept your focus on opening the bottle as you closed the cabinet and turned back to face the room.

"I'm talking about the sex scratches all over your back. It looks like you bedded a fucking leopard!" Dickinson laughed. You looked upon instinct to see him tugging on Tyler's shoulders and eventually forcing him to have his back faced to the room.

The moment your eyes landed on his muscled back, your body froze and the bottle of ibuprofen fell from your hands and onto the floor. Your eyes lingered on the bright red scratches that decorated the entirety of his back– evidence of your night together and just how good Tyler had made you feel.

"Let me see!"

"No, I want to see! Are they that bad?"

You watched, horrified, as his teammates kept tugging him around, trying to get a glimpse of the so-called 'sex scratches', their laughter bouncing off of the walls. Your cheeks were no doubt a deep scarlet color by now and they only got hotter when you saw Jamie bend down and pick up the ibuprofen in front of you. "Jesus Seggy, you're telling me that you didn't know those were there?" He asked, opening the bottle and grabbing two pills before handing it back to you.

"I was uh, a little distracted I guess."

You made quick eye contact with him before tucking your head into your chest and turning away, trying to prevent yourself from any more humiliation. You kept your back to the rest of the boys, looking up only for a moment to see Big Rig looking at you with a smirk. As you walked by him, you reached out and pinched his inner thigh hard, quickly rushing by him and going to the cabinet.

"Let me guess the number for the o-scale...three for four?" Pavs called out, silencing the roaring laughter.

"No fucking way, I say one and done. He's getting too old.." Dickinson chimed in, elbowing Tyler. "There's no way he can hang on that long."

You bit your tongue as an effort to prevent yourself from saying just how many times Tyler had made you cum last night, instead, choosing to focus on helping Big Rig continue his stretching– though it wasn't needed. "Yeah Seggy, tell us!" Big Rig said, keeping his eyes on you and the smirk on his face. "Three for Three? More than four?"

If looks could kill, Big Rig would be buried in a casket six feet under right now and you made sure that he knew it. You grabbed the elastic around his foot and snapped it back, only making him laugh.

"The gel's over there, Tyler. Grab it for me and I can get out those knots." Craig said, paying no mind to the conversation around him.

Tyler was turning red and rubbing the back of his neck in an effort to try and hold them off and you were silently praying that he wouldn't cave into their pressure. "Four for four..." He mumbled and you could feel his gaze scrape over you.

The hollering from the boys around him was deafening as they all congratulated him and patted him on the back. Meanwhile, it was all you could do not to die from embarrassment while dealing with the plaguing smirk coming from Big Rig.

"Damn Seggy," Jamie laughed, patting Tyler on the back like some proud dad. "You've got a real keeper there, don't you? She managed to scratch you up that bad? She must've been doing all the work for you."

Big Rig couldn't hold back his laughter anymore, making a noise that mimicked an elephant as he let go of his side of the band and fell back onto the table, clutching onto his stomach. "Oh my God," he whispered, his face turning beet red.

You were too busy focusing on anything but the nauseous feeling you started to have the moment Jamie unknowingly congratulated Tyler on having sex with you, his younger sister. "Yeah, she is..." Tyler replied.

You kept your focus on the band around Big Rig's foot, constantly tapping his shins in an attempt to try to get him to sit back up. Before he made it known, you could feel Tyler's presence and were sure of it when Big Rig finally sat up, still with a grin on his face. "Well, isn't this a lovely sight? At least I'm not the only one getting chirped."

Tyler laughed and looked at you, seeing that you were extremely embarrassed. In an effort to calm you down, he moved closer to you, pretending like he was asking you a question. "I'm sorry. I forgot they were there and I need to get scraped and I just...came in here without a shirt."

You shrug it off, focusing on Big Rig. "It's fine. Though I'll admit, hearing my brother talk about us having sex is something I never thought I'd experience." He laughed and you looked at him, leaning against the table. "So what do you need?"

"I need a lot of things," he whispered, smiling at you. "A massage like last night, for one." He scoffed when he saw you roll your eyes in reply. "Okay yeah, don't act like my massage last night didn't do something for you."

"Man," Big Rig laughed, shaking his head at the two of you. "These Copeley 206 girls, am I right Seggy?"

You pinched Big Rig again, this time on the inner knee and he flinched away from you as he and Tyler laughed. "Well, he's not lying. I mean have you seen what you and Kennedy have done to us? Ruined our beautiful, athletic bodies with your...sexual marks."

"Yeah, well if Big Rig doesn't stop and you don't stop encouraging him," you turned to Tyler and gave him a sarcastic smile, batting your eyelashes at him. "You'll be getting none of my services from last–"

"A mini towel and some gel!" Tyler blurted out, his smirk falling and his eyes looking panicked. "I just need one of those towels and the gel. Craig said it was over here somewhere with you?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head slightly. "What are you–" When you saw Tyler move his eyes to your left, you pretended to look for the stuff he needed and that's when you saw just how close Bishop was standing by your area, doing his band exercises.

You felt yourself begin to panic, but took a quiet, deep breath and exhaled before clearing your throat and bending down beneath the table, grabbing a towel. "I have towels, but the gel is probably with Dave. You must've heard him wrong."

Tyler nodded, taking the towel from you. "Probably, seeing as I didn't get much sleep last night." You saw the mischievous gleam in his eyes before he nodded at Big Rig. "Nice marks, did you cross paths with a squid?"

Before Big Rig could smack him with his free band, Tyler ran off laughing. You kept working with him, adding in new stretches until Bishop finished with his and left the training room. When you reached another point that Big Rig was done with his stretches, he leaned up and put both hands on your shoulders. "You need to breathe Y/N, because you look like you could pass out at any moment."

"I think I'm going to, what if..." You looked around the now, less crowded training room, collecting the bands from him. "What if he heard something? Anything or all of it? I'd be dead! My own brother would probably murder me with his hockey stick..maybe even his skate if he was angry enough."

"You'll be fine, Y/N." Big Rig patted your shoulders before hopping off of the table. "Bish has old man hearing, I doubt he heard anything."

He gave you a reassuring smile and you felt yourself start to relax. He was right, there was no way that Bishop could've heard your entire conversation, and now that you thought about it...he wasn't really all that close to you guys after all. Your gut feeling was wrong this time, you were sure of it.

"Hey Y/N, can you help me real quick? I just need my ankles taped." Miro asked, walking over to your table before hopping up and greeting you with a smile. "Best ankle taper in the game."

You smiled, before walking over to the cabinet and grabbing some pre-wrap and tape. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, opening them once you exhaled and closed the cabinet.

Everything was going to be fine...perfect, even.

#tyler seguin oneshot #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin writing #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl writing #hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #hockey writing #ldyk fic #my writing

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rigelmejo · 5 years ago

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i admire people who do reading or intensive reading and actually COUNT how many unknown words they run into, or even MAKE flashcards and study them later like

lol! i can dream! but i am so bad at flashcards... i can’t even do them for more then a few cram weeks every several months... takes me 1 hour to go through 10 flashcards... i can’t Make them lol... i’d never even have time to do other study...

and like the idea of counting sounds cool, just so i could see that concrete progress of how the number of unknown words decreases over time. but i know me and EVEN just looking up words in a dictionary distracts me a LOT and risks me quitting reading. so trying to pause long enough to count words would just risk even more chances i just quit the activity.

i just gotta go by the ‘feeling’ i am running into less/can look up less words when i reread old chapters than i had to the first run through...

i have only managed to count chapters read, this whole time consistently. mainly just because its a number i can update when i am NOT reading so it can’t distract me from reading, i have chapter numbers to help me keep track of how many i did in a day so i don’t need to do much work to figure out how much i read, and i don’t need to really gauge if i’m doing ‘enough’ except in week or month long check ins when i see how much i read and if i’d like a higher number (and to see how much audio i listened to/shows/etc and see if something being increased has helped or is maybe struggling and i Need to be increasing its amount, or readjusting what i spend my time more on).

i admire people who can track the details of their study progress when reading so much. but that is just... not me... its just not something... i can do. i know myself, and the amount of time i waste doing those things at my slow pace, and the high risk of those tasks distracting me, just means its not an effective thing for me to do...

why yes a language forum post did make me contemplate this. i was reading this post (https://www.reddit.com/r/languagelearning/comments/jie703/ive_spent_the_last_4_months_intensively_reading/ ) and it reminded me how much i am in AWE of people who can track their progress so much. whereas i felt so accomplished when i just... lol... started actually keeping track of how many chapters i read.

Also like - i used to be of the mindset “i’ll just keep track of novels in progress versus finished.” but i realized that was not very motivating to me - it takes a long time to finish a novel, especially if you jump between a few. and then also it didn’t allow me to see how fast/slow i was getting through material, or give me a way to goal set. Whereas counting chapters read lets me see at least very roughly if i’m spending at least some time in the month reading - and if it was an amount i was aiming for. And it lets me see how much i’m Able to get through in a given time period - maybe i’ve been picking too difficult materials, and so its been taking me 3 days to work through 1 chapter, versus an easier novel where i’m managing 1 chapter a day. And like... at least lets me figure out if that’s okay for my current goals (maybe its intensive reading), or if for my extensive reading goals i may want to change what i’m doing (when i binged through Mandarin Companion its because i realized i needed extensive practice to speed up my reading speed/increase my basic knowledge). Basically like.. counting chapters is the minimum i’ve found that lets me have some feedback on if my study plans are working how i want to some degree, and on if i need to adjust something...

#rant #october update #im just thinking about a post

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illegiblewords · 6 years ago

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Illegible FFXIV Story Status - UPDATED

I actually have a few stories finished, going, or in the wings at the moment for FFXIV! And people seem to like them which is very exciting and cool since it’s been a while since I was in an active fandom like this!

Normally I don’t do this kind of post but frankly I know what it’s like as a reader to be in that fidgety “WHEN ARE YOU DOING X” state haha, and I want to be considerate of that.

So I’m going to actually make a progress list this time. Also just a collection of stuff in case people are curious.

COMPLETE

From Umbra: This is the backstory for my main Warrior of Light, Cenric Asher. I essentially did a deep dive into lore for Thanalan, Ul’dah, and Nald’Thal because I love all of them to pieces and wanted to combine them to create a character who truly felt shaped by the environment. Cenric is probably delusional and thinks he’s the son of a god but most likely just has some Duskwight lineage and really bad luck.

Posturing: First story in a series of Emet-Selch/Female!Warrior of Light stories called Brief Our Moments, I literally wrote this as a personal challenge to see if I could do something romantic with an ambiguous WoL. It’s fluffy and has some humor. Warrior of Light is unnamed and only confirmed elezen so technically people can imagine their own Warrior if they feel like it. If you stop at this point in the series, The Dying Gasp has a kind of sweet undertone because the Warrior and Emet-Selch both get shown as sharing small kindnesses when they can get away with it.

Stillborn: Second story in a series of Emet-Selch/Female!Warrior of Light stories called Brief Our Moments, this is a continuation of my personal shipping challenge where I more or less went “okay but what would it take to get a kiss scene while being canon-compliant?” and discovered that the answer was angst. Can technically be read without Posturing but I wrote it with that story in-mind. Same deal on ambiguous Warrior of Light. If you stop at this point in the series The Dying Gasp is still bittersweet as per canon.

The Immortal Wound: Third story in a series of Emet-Selch/Female!Warrior of Light stories called Brief Our Moments, this the third part of my personal shipping challenge where I was all “m’kay so I know the price of a kiss what would it take to get a sex scene” and the answer was “blood sacrifice”. Very very angsty but also very very romance-y. Same deal as the previous two fics, you can technically read it all alone but I wrote it as a continuation. You can pretty much bypass The Dying Gasp with this one.

Stalemate: ANOTHER PERSONAL CHALLENGE SHIPFIC! I am a simple and easily distracted writer who occasionally needs to pause in outlining to tell more stories. This came into being for two reasons. 1) I saw someone say they wanted Warrior/Lahabrea shipfic and that’s something I’m perfectly happy to deliver 2) I saw another person lament the lack of M/M shipfics involving the Warrior of Light. I basically treat all the Ascians as bisexual anyway, so decided for Lahabrea I’d go with M/M. This is not a direct sequel to Eclipse but it is very much a spiritual successor in the sense that Eclipse can lend some context to the state Lahabrea is in here. Premise is that it’s not long after Haurchefant’s death and the Warrior of Light is both grieving and furious. Lahabrea, having not faced him since the Praetorium, takes advantage of this and antagonizes Hydaelyn’s chosen. Angst/Romance here, Warrior is unnamed but a midlander Dark Knight.

Appetite: I made a Vauthry fic for the 30 day prompt challenge. This was for “voracious” and it has cannibalism! Straight up horror story, I went stylistically trippy and played off some fun theories I saw with certain family dynamics.

Snuff: Another 30 day prompt challenge story, this one is basically a humor study on Lahabrea while he was infiltrating the Scions in Thancred’s body. He needs to go to bed. Tataru tries to tell him this and he ignores her. No one ignores Tataru and gets away with it.

Parched: And another 30 day prompt challenge fic, focusing on the Unsundered but mainly Elidibus. Humor, friendship, and bittersweetness here, basically none of them are functional people but the way Elidibus is non-functional is more subtle than the other two. Emet-Selch and Lahabrea conspire to get him smashed as a way to help with this. Pianos are involved.

Eclipse: Technically was also a 30 day prompt challenge fic. This one is from Nabriales’ point of view for the most part and explores his resentment and jealousy of the Unsundered as well as his specific animosity toward Lahabrea. It does not end well for Lahabrea. Angst and gen.

IN PROGRESS

Memento Mori: This is not online but I mentioned that I would be doing a sequel to The Immortal Wound and this is it! It is going to be very very big and AU and frankly the way I’m setting it up theoretically will allow me to adapt and keep weaving elements in as patch cycles progress. I have a lot of it mapped out already and did start the first chapter but I want to adjust certain bits in light of patch 5.1. I have some idea how I want it to end, but how will I get there? No idea. At this point I am caving and will be explicitly using my Warrior of Light Nivienne Leclair because 1) it is really difficult to keep he said/she said sounding clear and interesting even in shorter stories, let alone the monster this is bound to be 2) I have some fun references I want to make to the stories of Merlin and Nimue 3) at a certain point in a relationship you need to share backstories in explicit detail lol. So the last part (I think) for Brief Our Moments touches on the value of life as something fleeting and fragile.

Somnus: Elidibus-centric, this is essentially me slamming my hands on the table in a figurative sense and going “LET ME TELL YOU MY FEELINGS ABOUT DAD!ELIDIBUS.” It examines Elidibus’ dynamic with Unukalhai as well as the other two Unsundered, does a lot of backstory speculation, and explores difficulties all three of the Unsundered have with sleeping after the Terminus event. Technically Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, and kind of Family I guess? Worth noting that I’ve edited the bit that’s up since first posting in accordance with further information on canon. It’s probably AU anyway but oh well. I know more or less all the steps in this story, just have a bit of adjusting to account for my newer character interpretations. Plan to alternate it with Memento Mori.

Untitled Fem!WoL/Emet-Selch Shipfic Oneshot #1: Currently in cooldown mode from a medium-sized story, I put out requests for shipfic clichés as a fun scenario and got a request for Fem!WoL/Emet-Selch courtesy of @nipuni! I don’t know that I can do all of them given I wanna pop back to Memento Mori but two I think I can pull off haha.

Untitled Fem!WoL/Emet-Selch Shipfic Oneshot #2: Same deal as above lol, idk that I can do all of the prompts but two is pretty fair I think so gonna hit two!

Untitled Male!WoL/Lahabrea Shipfic Oneshot Sequel: This is an uncertain timing thing for me, basically I am a sucker for more optimistic endings when I can take them. If I can pull off a moderately small and optional goodish-end with the Dark Knight WoL from Stalemate, I don’t mind at all. And I do know how I’d do it. In case you haven’t noticed my impulse control is terrible and I have too many ideas for things.

Untitled Lahabrea/Emet-Selch Oneshot: Lmao this is literally “challenge accepted” for @strangefellows on an unambiguous, non-love triangle shipfic. Again, my impulse control is terrible. But I can totally do a oneshot for them.

Dead Language: Emet-Selch focused but follows the three Unsundered in the immediate aftermath of Terminus. I started this pretty early after Shadowbringers came out. At the time I knew where it was going, now I don’t and I might want to make a bunch of edits or even redo it depending. I still like bits of it, like the idea of Lahabrea obsessively reviewing his notes before summoning Zodiark so he doesn’t have to think about what’s going on around him.

With Good Intentions: A friendship fic, I decided to look at how Cenric specifically would relate to Emet-Selch because it stood out in an interesting way to me. It mostly has a bit of banter but I do have a planned direction and ending in mind that plays off the idea of conditional trust. Continues an idea I have with Cenric that he gets closest to people who treat him like he’s just a person, versus Warrior of Light.

Basically a good chunk of what I do is me going challenge accepted though lol. I honestly really love experimenting, and the whole “take X prompt and see what you can pull off” premise too. Right now I think I need to focus on what’s on my plate, but in-general I’m pretty happy to do requests!

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #Shadowbringers #ffxiv #ff14 #also this is part of why i am so slow with reading lol #i am working and responsibilities and vidja games and writing a bunch #and i have the attention span of a goldfish

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ks-caster · 5 years ago

Text

Starcrossed

Fandom(s): The Vampire Diaries, The 100

Characters: Caroline, Klaus, Murphy, the Delinquents

Premise: 100 years after the apocalypse, Klaus believes Caroline to have died in primefiya. Caroline, for her part, happened to be on a space station when the bombs went off, and has spent the last century on the Arc, not knowinf if any of her friends or family are alive - except for Klaus, because if he’d died, she would have died too (we’re just pretending the unsiring thingy never happened, okay?)

Chapters 1 and 2 and my outline are available under the cut.

Moonrise

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Caroline smiled without looking away from the window.

“It’s not exactly rocket science,” she laughed, taking a sip of her coffee.

“C’mon, Forbes,” Dr. Murphy laughed, sitting down beside her. “That joke hasn’t gotten old yet?”

“I’ve only been on Alpha for a month, Murph,” she reminded him, still gazing out into the vacuum of space. Behind the earth—a fantastic sight on its own from the Alpha Space Station—the moon was rising in a shimmering, silvery crescent. It had become one of Caroline’s favorite sights in the year and a half she’d spent in orbit. Polaris had been more enclosed; their largest window was smaller than the average ones on Alpha, but that was to be expected of a research station versus a strategic one. Polaris needed their environment controllable, while Alpha was structured for high visibility, with a combination of missile-proof windows and high-efficiency sensors. It had been years since Shenzhen had tried anything, but everyone knew that relations between America and China weren’t improving.

“You haven’t memorized what the moon looks like yet?” Dr. Murphy quipped.

“You haven’t memorized what Angelii Reyes looks like?” she shot back, quirking an eyebrow. Dr. Murphy opened his mouth to defend himself, then shut it. Everyone on the ship knew about the missile specialist’s massive crush on his coworker—and everyone had been warned when Caroline’s shuttle first docked that lying to a professional mediator wasn’t going to go particularly well.

“Didn’t know that matchmaker was part of your job description,” he grumbled.

“I’m multitasking,” she responded, finishing her coffee. When her contract with Polaris was up last month she’d been intending to return to Virginia, but Alpha had practically begged her to come aboard for a three month period and help resolve a communication crisis among their command team. She’d found herself jumping at the chance to stay away for just a little bit longer.

The year was 2050 when she’d first decided to take a temporary job in space. Her daughters were in their thirties, her school had four campuses, and she was on her third identity; it was a good time to vanish from view for a little while.

At least, that were the reason she gave when people asked her. The truth was, there was one more thing she wanted the chance to get away from for a while; well, one more person.

Once his daughter had begun attending her school, Klaus had become an unavoidable part of her life. At thirty, she’d been much warmer to the idea of him turning up on occasion than she had at nineteen when he’d sworn never to enter her life again. He’d toned the flirting farther down than she’d though him capable—an act of respect for her as a widow, and she’d appreciated it. For a while.

A few years passed, and things began to rekindle between them. It hadn’t been simple, it hadn’t been fast; he’d been mourning Camille and she’d been mourning Stefan. They’d had their issues and their steps back and their makeups and breakups. After a few decades of on-again, off-again, Caroline reached the conclusion that she needed to pick a lane—either pursue a real, healthy relationship with him, or set them both free to find greener pastures. But it was difficult to think straight when he was lying in bed next to her, tracing abstract patterns into her skin with his fingertips, or worse, when she was lying in her bed alone, hyperaware of the space he’d occupy if he was there. Most of the times that she’d traveled, he’d been there in some form or another, so there was nowhere in the world she could run to where she wasn’t reminded of him.

Nowhere on earth, anyway.

Over the years and identities, she’d earned several degrees. Turned out, having all sorts of contracts between her school and various colleges paid off; she could take a wide variety of online courses for virtually nothing, or take sabbaticals to attend various schools. Her current identity—Tasha Forbes, her own second cousin and godchild—had a masters in conflict mediation, and received an invitation to do a study on conflict resolution among the diverse scientific and military teams crewing the Polaris space station. An eighteen-month contract during which she would be entirely focused on work and uninterrupted by Klaus or anyone else from back home had struck her as the perfect opportunity to decide exactly what—and who—she wanted.

And it had worked—she knew it had worked when she hadn’t stopped missing Klaus, and had developed the habit of watching the moon rise from behind the earth because it reminded her of him in the most beautiful way. She made up her mind by the end of her third month that when she set foot on solid ground again, she was going to get into an interstate shuttle direct to Klaus’s current abode in California and tell him definitively that she wanted to be together, for real. She had a plan. She’d rehearsed the conversation.

And then she had nine more months to over-analyze and second-guess herself—not her plan; she was confident that she wanted a relationship with Klaus—but her delivery. Suddenly a simple “I love you and I want to be with you” was the most complicated thing in human history to try to express.

All in all, the emergency summons to Alpha station had been a welcome relief from the pressure she placed on herself.

“If you’re that interested,” Dr. Murphy was saying, bringing Caroline back to the more immediate romantic conundrum, “do you think you could put in a good word for me? I was actually thinking of maybe asking her to dinner next week, when we dock with the Paradise to resupply.” He scratched his nose—an awkward habit he always did when he was nervous or stressed.

“Girls always know when their friends have been enlisted to improve a guy’s chances,” Caroline scolded. “What I can do is talk you through the process so that you can present the idea as appealingly as possible.”

Murphy stared out the window, a frown on his face, and Caroline laughed a little. God, he was shy in romance for someone so confident in actual, legitimate rocket science.

It was when he slowly rose to his feet and walked to the window, the color draining from his already pale face, that she realized something was wrong.

“Those are…” he whispered, and her eyes were drawn to what had distracted him. Six trails of golden fire were making their way across the blue background of the pacific ocean.

“Shuttlecraft?” Caroline suggested hesitantly, but she knew she was dead wrong before the words had left her mouth. They were traveling too fast for shuttlecraft—and much too close together to conform to safety regulations.

“Missiles,” Murphy breathed, and then took off towards the bridge, Caroline hot on his heels, cursing the fact that she had to run so slowly due to all the security cameras that could catch her vamp speed.

Command was in chaos—alarms blared, people were shouting orders while red lights flashed. Caroline vaguely remembered that as a civilian, she was supposed to return to her quarters during a red alert, but she doubted anyone was going to notice her.

“Status?” Murphy demanded, dashing to his post.

“Six 100-megaton nuclear warheads, heading from China towards the United States,” Angelii reported immediately. “Trajectories suggest Langley, Chicago, Atlanta, Austin, Denver and Portland are the targets.”

“An even spread,” Dr. Murphy murmured darkly. “ETA to detonation?”

“Thirty-two minutes,” an ensign whose name Caroline could never remember responded. Her heart stuttered. She couldn’t feel her feet. Someone was talking—murmuring to her in a low, calming voice… she wasn’t screaming, or crying, or doing anything to warrant a Low, Calming Voice™; actually it was her job to do that sort of thing, wasn’t it?

“Miss,” he was asking, possibly for the third time. “Miss, is there anyone you would like me to contact?” Caroline swallowed, the rush of sound from the last thirty seconds computing at vampire speed. Angelii was trying to break into the missiles’ targeting software to redirect them into space. The speed of her heartrate and the tone in her voice said she already knew she wouldn’t manage it in time.

“Girls,” Caroline finally go out. “I have two girls. One’s in Canada.” She struggled to meet his gaze. “Josie was in Portland. She… might still be there. I don’t remember how long she was staying.” There was no strength to her voice—it sounded thin and unnatural. Shouldn’t she remember her own daughter’s lecture tour itinerary? She stumbled to the communications console as the man with the infuriating calming voice punched in a code, and she dialed Josie’s number.

“Hi, this is Josephine Saltzman,” her voicemail announced cheerfully. “Please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Jose, it’s mom,” Caroline said, forcing the edge of panic out of her voice. “There’s a nuclear bomb headed for Portland in less than half an hour. If you’re still there…” she choked momentarily. “Honey, I love you—and you need to get out of the city, whatever you gotta do…” had the twins ever gotten the hang of the whole teleportation thing? They’d found the spell in some old grimoires Alaric had been researching a few years back, but it had been tricky, and the last she’d heard of it, they still hadn’t managed to travel more than a few hundred meters. “Call me,” she finally managed, then hung up, immediately dialing Elizabeth.

“Hey there, mama bear,” Lizzie’s husband greeted her as he always did.

“Carlisle, I need you to put Lizzie on the phone right now, it’s an emergency,” she demanded, all in a rush.

“Sure thing—what’s happening?” he asked. She heard him shuffle to his feet, then footsteps announced he was traveling through the house to find his wife.

“The world’s ending,” Caroline murmured numbly as, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw eight trails of fire heading the opposite direction. America was firing back while they still could, apparently. Hopefully no one would shoot anything towards Canada… everyone liked Canada, right?

“It’s your mother,” Carlisle announced, and then the sound quality changed, indicating that she was on speaker.

“China just fired nuclear bombs at the U.S.,” Caroline explained without preamble. “Have you heard from your sister lately—is she still in Oregon?”

“Oh my god,” Lizzie breathed, and even through the phone Caroline could faintly hear her heart speed up. “Last I heard, she was still there until the end of the month. I’ll try and send a message… hang on.” The sound of paper ripping and a pen scratching frantically against it ended with a quickly whispered spell and a ‘whoosh’ of flame.

“I don’t think anyone’s shooting far north enough for you guys to get hit. Yet,” she added as another few missiles appeared on the view screens. Russia had joined in the fight. What was the blast radius on a nuke of that size? There were different colored rings on a large, interactive map of the world. They encompassed a frighteningly huge area.

“Try her phone again,” Lizzie suggested. “I’ll let you know if she gets back to me, okay? I’m gonna call dad.”

“Okay,” Caroline whispered. “I love you both.”

Elena didn’t pick up the phone, but Steve, her ever-friendly middle child, answered on the first ring.

Bonnie didn’t answer at first, but called back right away. She was in Arizona. Inside two of the threatening circles on the map. Caroline’s brain wouldn’t function right—wouldn’t figure out for her whether that meant instant death, slow horrible death, or just increased chances of cancer.

With two minutes left on the clock, she was dialing Klaus’s number. Could a nuclear blast kill an Original? Would Klaus even know? She swallowed as the line rang. The whole reason she was seeing all this from the aliens’-eye-view was because she didn’t know how to tell him how she felt about him.

Now the world was ending beneath her feet, and she had less than 100 seconds to figure it out.

“Hello, love.” Klaus’s voice was warm and smooth and full of the particular joy that he seemed to reserve just for her. This, out of everything, brought tears to her eyes, and for a moment she couldn’t speak—couldn’t force a single sound past the agonizing pain in her throat, and the crippling ache in hear heart when she thought that this could be the last time she ever heard it.

“Klaus,” she sobbed faintly, clutching at the nearest console for support.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked. No, he demanded. His demeanor had changed instantly, and she imagined the way his eyes had gone hard, the way his spine straightened and his brow furrowed as he waited to hear who he needed to kill.

“Um, the nuclear arsenal of mankind is being launched,” she summarized. Numbly, she counted 48 total bombs being tracked. Around her, a few soldiers were still frantically working, but most were leaning into their personal comm links, exchanging last words with their loved ones below. No one was trying to stop them. Angelii sat back from the screen, shaking her head helplessly.

“Where are you?” Klaus’s voice had a bit of a growl in it, and she recognized the fear for what it was, although anyone else would have thought it was hostility.

“I’m on a military base,” she whispered. “I’m watching the whole thing in real time… are you still in California?”

“Chicago,” he corrected immediately. “Where…”

“Chicago,” she echoed in muted horror. “There’s one right on top of you… oh my god…”

“Caroline, where are you—are you in danger?” his voice was impatient. She’d heard that particular tone before—it meant he was worried about her, terrified, even, and why on earth wasn’t her first priority saving herself?

“I’m fine, I’m…” but a sudden buzz of static cut her off. “Klaus? Klaus can you still hear me?” a quick glance around the room showed everyone else experiencing the same thing. Her eyes found Dr. Murphy’s.

“The warheads have started to detonate,” he explained quietly. “Most of the U.S’s electronics just shut off. I’m sorry,” he added. Caroline had heard him, and understood the words, but her fingers were in denial and she dialed first Josie’s number, then Lizzy’s. Neither of them rang.

Slowly, dream-like, Caroline made her way to the main window, abandoning the analysis screens in favor of looking directly down at the carnage. She watched as first the Chinese bombs and then the American ones, followed by sundry others, reached their targets and exploded in deceptively tiny eruptions of orange and red. Thick black smoke rose up and began to cover the sky, concealing the planet below in round patches. Within thirty minutes, the planet she knew so well looked like it had contracted some horrible disease.

World War III had taken less than 2 hours, from start to bloody finish.

Freefall

“So, what’re you in for?”

Caroline glanced up from her meagre, bland food, critically evaluating the speaker. His pale skin, prominent forehead and sardonic smirk told him his name without a shadow of a doubt. This boy was unquestionably one of Dr. Murphy’s direct descendants. She wondered vaguely why they’d never met, but then, the Ark was a pretty big ship.

“Vandalism,” she responded simply, skewering an unappetizing piece of something and shoveling it into her mouth. “I set the art gallery on fire,” she elaborated through the edible substance filling her mouth. She’d worked hard to make her newest teenage persona as laid back as possible; someone of whom no one would have any particular expectations. With each generation and each new set of draconian laws, adulthood on the Ark had transitioned from irksome to deeply detestable.

“Nice,” Murphy snorted in appreciation.

“Hey, what do you have against art galleries?” a boy with an honest, innocent face and a beanie over his shaggy hair demanded.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “Put me in a weird mood, I guess. Honestly though, I think maybe the moonshine might have been more at fault.”

“Cause you drank it or cause you used it as accelerant?” the boy checked with a grin.

“Both,” she admitted freely, to a general, appreciative snicker.

“Well, it’s a dumb crime, but as long as nobody got hurt you might have a shot at your review,” a girl she thought was called Monroe commented quietly from the next table over.

“The last paintings in all of humanity,” Wells Jaha spoke up sadly, but fell silent when Monroe turned a frosty glare on him. He’d only been in the skybox for three days—the newest juvenile detainee besides herself. The way he carried himself, some of the things he said… Caroline got the impression they’d received the same information, and had the same idea. Of course, his motivation was fairly obvious; his massive crush on Clarke Griffin who’d been in solitary for the last six months had spurred him to ensure that when she was sent to the earth to be a human radiation canary, he’d be by her side.

‘Young love,’ she scoffed internally, then grimaced by how old she sounded. 157 was entirely too young to be so disparaging of youth or love.

Of course, she was on her way down because of love too—but as a vampire she at least had a significantly higher chance of survival than he did; the little human fool.

“Back to your cells,” a guard shouted, hitting a button on the wall which sounded a nasty digital whistle that never failed to give Caroline a splitting headache. She stumbled to her feet, balance compromised until her head stopped echoing.

“Um, do you need help?” an unfamiliar voice asked hesitantly. She looked up blearily and met a completely new pair of brown eyes. She knew vaguely that she’d run across every single person on the Ark at one point or another—even Murphy, first name John she finally recalled—but this girl was entirely foreign to her.

“I’m good—thanks,” she finally responded, straightening up with a little difficulty. “Carrie Forbes,” she added, sticking a hand out. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“O-Octavia,” she girl nearly squeaked, falteringly extending her hand but looking a bit confused by what she was supposed to do with it. Caroline shook it gently. “Octavia Blake.”

As it turned out, Octavia Blake was to be her roommate—at least, that was what was on the official docket. They’d barely made it into the room before two guards were following them, binders and syringes in hand. Caroline heard Octavia starting to hyperventilate, and as the men approached, demanding that they hold out their hands, she looked over at her.

“Octavia, they can’t kill you twice,” she reasoned quietly, not wanting to admit what she knew, but also wanting to help in some way. “Think about it—what more do you have to be afraid of?” the smaller girl looked her way, gulped, and squared her shoulders.

“At the end of the day, no matter how this goes,” Caroline murmured as the men pulled the caps off the syringes, “you’ll be free.”

More so than she could possibly know.

Octavia passed out but Caroline was immune to whatever they were using and had to let herself go limp, eyes closed enough that the casual observer wouldn’t notice them cracked open, but still open enough that she could sort of see what was going on. They were carried along with the other drugged juvenile offenders down dark hallways by silent men, the whole operation a complete secret from the Ark’s residents.

She let them strap her into a seat, listened as they did the same to her neighbors, then as soon as the last guard departed, she opened her eyes, scanning the area. Every other passenger was still unconscious except for one—slightly older by the smell of him, with his heart pounding out a staccato sprint. A stowaway, apparently.

‘The plot thickens,’ was the only thing she had time to think before the clamps were releasing and the thrusters were firing and the rough movements had startled the other passengers into varying stages of wakefulness. A recording of Chancellor Jaha started to play on the view screens and Caroline cursed under her breath, wishing one of them had a picture of the planet they were now rapidly falling towards.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” Octavia whispered from beside her. Caroline glanced over and nodded subtly.

“Mm-hm,” she hummed quietly. “Like I said,” she breathed back with a hint of a smile, “one way or another—free.”

“Yeah, if we don’t burn to death from the radiation,” Octavia hissed back.

“We’ll see,” Caroline responded, remembering the Great Solar Radiation Debate 12 years ago, and the way neither side had been able to definitively prove themselves right. She’d always been rather in favor of the idea that space-born humans had a higher ability to metabolize radiation than their earth-dwelling ancestors, but she wasn’t a scientist, so she couldn’t really speak authoritatively on the subject.

Anyway, they were about to find out.

Notes:

Caroline and Klaus get back in touch a few years after she opens the school—what with Hope attending—and they become cordial, perhaps even flirtatious. However, Caroline is afraid to jump back in so quickly after becoming a widow. She feels like her immortal life is rushing into too much, too quickly. So she and Klaus don’t get serious, although when she takes a sabbatical every couple of years, sometimes he’ll meet her abroad. They have an on-again, off-again thing going on for a few decades, because she can’t commit and he won’t push her.

In the year 2050, Caroline accepts a job to work on a space station for a few years, studying group psychology among the scientists working there. It seems like a fun adventure.

While she’s up there, cut off from everyone she knows, she makes the decision to take The Plunge and tell Klaus when she gets back that she’s ready for a real relationship with him. Then ALIE launches the nuclear arsenal of mankind, and the world burns beneath her.

The Ark forms, and Caroline mourns. She mourns for her daughters, for Rick, and she believes for Klaus. (Remember, in TO Season 3, his sire line was cut off.) She thinks that he must’ve been destroyed—and if he lived, then he was burning in radiation and desiccating from the total lack of humans to feed on. She prefers to think he’s dead, when she imagines this.

97 years pass. It’s hard to reinvent yourself every decade or so, but compulsion is a wonderful thing, and there isn’t a scrap of vervain on the station, so no one can resist her. Unbeknownst to her, Aurora Blake had told stories about her old school friend Caroline, and then after she compelled everyone she knew on the ship, Bellamy Blake started to mention her as well, so Octavia, who she doesn’t know exists, thinks something seems a little off.

Caroline always begins as young as she can get away with—usually 14 or 15—and she’s in Clarke’s class at school. Everyone thinks she’s extremely weird; honestly she lost the desire to get close to people after her a few generations of her friends died. The fact that there are no immortals left for her to get close to is a living nightmare, but she can’t turn anyone because she doesn’t have the means to make a daylight ring, and all the witches who ever lived are dead.

She drinks or drugs herself into oblivion whenever she gets the opportunity; has been jailed and had to compel herself out of the death sentence three times so far. Everyone thinks she’s the weird, anti-social stoner kid. Aren’t junkies supposed to be loose and friendly? She realizes that the delinquents are going to be sent to the ground, so she sets fire to a priceless Earth painting so that she can join them. She figures that even if she burns up and dies, it might be worth it just to escape this lonely eternity.

The 100—including Caroline—land and survive. She keeps her secret under wraps, although it’s tricky as she has to dry out from everything she’s been on for the last century. She doesn’t reveal herself to anyone, and doesn’t interfere much in anyone’s affairs, but she does once single-handedly rescue someone from a horde of reapers.

She gets her neck broken during the final battle and is assumed dead, so the mountain men don’t take her.

Meanwhile, the Originals have survived the apocalypse; Hope and Freya had to go into a magical sleep for twenty years, but they got through it. The Originals rule a large portion of what was once the Western United States. Klaus is called the King of the West and is feared across the continent. He learns that a star fell to the east—bringing strange people with it. He sets out on a journey on a prayer that Caroline might have been on it.

When things start to go badly wrong, Caroline sneaks into the mountain, intending to help. However, the government was vaguely aware of vampires, and the residents have been consuming vervain in their water, for 100 years, so she can’t use compulsion. If she uses violence she could save everyone, but it would likely be at the cost of tons of collateral damage, and she’s pretty against harming children, especially after having lost a couple of her own.

When the King of the West arrives with soldiers and spears demanding to be taken to the Sky People immediately, at first everyone is afraid. But when he begins describing the woman he’s looking for, Octavia pipes up and says that’s Caroline he’s describing. Caroline had once drunkenly described Klaus to Octavia—including the detail of the moles on his neck, so she knows it’s the same guy. She says that Caroline was taken by the mountain men, and if he wants her back, he’ll have to go in and get her. Klaus offers (in a you-can’t-refuse sort of way) his aid to those attempting to get the prisoners out of the mountain.

Caroline has to come with a way that the children survive—it’s in her character to do so. When the prisoners come marching out, it’s not because the mountain releases them—it’s because she did something clever.

When Caroline sees Klaus, she immediately runs into his arms, bursts into tears and kisses him like—well, like she hadn’t seen him into a century. He absolutely doesn’t care that anyone’s watching and sweeps her off her feet, to everyone’s general shock.

#Beth's New Year's Cleaning Queue #free to a good home #Any and all parts available for general use with credit #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #the vampire diaries #the 100 #klaroline

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