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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

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Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER FIVE: US

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 2868 Rating: T - canon-typical language, reference to Stephen King A/N: The adorable, fluffy early part of a relationship is hard to write, y’all. Especially first dates.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

“So...you and Derek…” Riley began after you had both placed your orders and found a table.

“What? What about Derek and me? There isn’t a ‘me and Derek,’” you said in a rush. Except that there was, now, and you weren’t sure why you were denying it.

“That’s my point! You’d be good together.”

“Would we?” you asked skeptically.

A voice nagged at the back of your mind, lecturing you about how you knew that already, how of course you were good together, you were more than good, you were perfect foils. You liked bickering and bantering with him, and watching scifi together, and doing terrible impressions of people you both knew, and just talking and being near him. You weren't sure what had happened earlier, but you knew you wanted it to happen again. And that you wanted...to curl up on your couch with your knees tucked up under you and your head on his chest while his arm wrapped around you and held you close, or sit across from him at a restaurant and steal his fries, or make pancakes with him on a Sunday morning in your pajamas (never mind that you'd have to learn how first, for Derek you'd figure it out). You were sure you wanted all of those cute, romantic companionship things, with Derek. So why were you still pretending otherwise?

“Sure. He’s not my type, and he can be a little annoying sometimes, but he makes it work, in his own way.”

Your conversation was momentarily interrupted by your drinks and snacks being brought over. It was just enough time for you to come to a decision.

“You’re really selling him,” you joked, hiding a smile behind your scone. “I’m so convinced.”

“Come on, Y/N. Give him a chance. He might surprise you.”

“Riley, listen. I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, setting me up with Derek, but you are wasting your breath...”

“Why? Give me one good reason not to go out to dinner with him.”

“He hasn’t asked me to?” you squinted your eyes and tilted your head in question.

She sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Hypothetically though, if he did ask, and assuming you both had the night off, and—”

“Riley, can you slow down for a second?” you couldn’t help but laugh as you cut off what was likely to be quite the spiel. After all, she was a business major, and they loved their hypotheticals almost as much as lawyers.

She stopped, or at least paused, and picked up her coffee cup, looking at you expectantly.

“You’re wasting your breath not because my answer would be no, but because...well..he and I sort of...already...hooked up? About,” you checked the clock on your phone, “an hour ago.”

She choked, only just avoiding spraying her latte over you. “What?!”

“Well I mean, not hooked up, hooked up. But there was a lot of kissing, and other stuff. And not a lot of clothes. It probably maybe might have actually ended up as hooked up, hooked up if you hadn’t called,” you grimaced as you tried to explain. “But you cannot tell Sean any of this.”

“Why not?”

You chewed on your lip. “Because it just happened. And I don’t know if it was a one-off, heat-of-the-moment thing. So I don’t want him to know anything until there’s something worth knowing. If there’s something worth telling, he’ll probably end up one of the first to know anyway.”

“Okay, I might let you have that,” she smirked, leaning in. “So tell me more: What’s ‘other stuff’? How few clothes are we talking? How’d it happen? Was it good?”

Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as you laughed awkwardly and focused your attention on your drink as a distraction.

“You’re never gonna believe this, dawg,” Derek said, blowing a puff of smoke up into the air. “So I was over at Y/N’s, and we were hangin out, and we started arguing, right?”

“Because that comes as a shock to anyone,” Sean answered, rolling his eyes and taking a long drag before passing the joint back.

“No, no, no, man. That’s not the surprising thing. We’re arguing and all up in each other’s face and then, out of nowhere, she kisses me!” Derek’s grin was wide and a little bit awed as he spoke, forgetting to take another hit.

There was genuine shock on Sean’s face and he seemed at a loss for words, blinking owlishly at his best friend.

“So anyway, there I am, there we are because the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen - no offense to Riley man - is kissing me, so obviously I kissed her back. She didn't taste like I thought she would, apples or somethin, like she always smells, but I guess that's her hair or something, it was…” Derek trailed off for a second, trying to think of exactly how he wanted to describe the taste of kissing her, and then he snapped his fingers, carrying on, “candy canes. Those ones with the extra purple stripe that kinda taste like berries.”

He ignored Sean saying his name, trying to capture his attention and carried on.

“Then, it's not just kissing. Cus she's laying back onto the bed and I'm following and now I'm on top of her and she takes her shirt off. No bra underneath so I've got the perfect view of her sweet, perky—”

“Stop!” Sean yelled, voice echoing off the concrete pillars of the parking garage. “Fucking hell Derek, that's my cousin. Practically my little sister for Christ's sake.”

“What?” Derek frowned, confused for a moment when it finally dawned on him. “Oh shit, man, I'm sorry. I thought since you were cool with me taking a shot...I wasn't thinkin about…”

“It's fine. I only need to bleach out half my brain. I'm happy for you and Y/N, I really am, it's about time frankly, but I don't want to know.”

“Yeah. Yeah no problem man.”

A silence hung over them as they finished their smoke, before suddenly Derek was speaking again.

“I looked up the song while I drove here, and it turns out, she was right. I had nothin to even argue with her about.” He chuckled, the grin creeping across his face again. “I’m glad I did though.”

Several weeks went by and it seemed like things were going back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. You got busy with school and finals, seeing Derek a lot less often and for shorter blocks, and the timing never seemed right to talk.

One night, you were both hanging out with Sean, trying to cheer him up over the fact that Riley had cancelled on him because of some big presentation for school. While your cousin was out of the room meeting the pizza guy, an odd silence descended over you both for a moment, before Derek turned to face you on the couch.

“What are we?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” you answered, frowning in confusion and mirroring his position.

“We have one killer makeout, then never talk about it. I flirt, I think you’re flirtin back but it’s hard to tell. You call me sweet one second and stupid the next. I just don’t get it, Y/N, and it’s starting to drive me crazy.”

“I like you, Derek. A lot. Like, to the point it kinda scares me if I’m being honest, a lot,” you shrugged, holding your shoulders at your ears. “But...I don’t know. Is this a good idea?”

“This? You mean...us?” He frowned in confusion.

“Is there an us already?” you sighed, voice trembling. “Yeah, I guess I mean, the possibility of an us at least.”

He reached over, taking one of your hands in his. “I don’t want to push you into anything, but I’ll be honest, girl, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You opened your mouth to make a snarky comment in response and he shook his head, laughing lightly.

“I mean the real you, not just kissin you or seeing your tiddies, although those were nice.”

You shot him a glare, reaching across the gap between you to slap his shoulder in annoyance. He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender.

“You’re so smart, way too smart for me. And fiesty, and hilarious, and sweet. I don’t know, you’re you. And I really like everything about you, all the little things even that make me feel like I got steam comin outta my ears like the Looney Tunes.”

“I…”

“Let me take you out to dinner, or breakfast, or lunch, whenever you’re free. A date though. One date and we can talk about it, whatever’s got you feeling unsure. Please?”

He was looking at you so earnestly that you couldn’t resist saying yes, suggesting lunch on Sunday just as Sean returned. He looked between you with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. You rolled your eyes, stealing the food from him, and Derek pressed play on the movie as Sean settled back into the middle seat.

You paced anxiously up and down the length of your living room, biting on a thumb nail. You paused, debating changing your outfit for the third time. Derek had said he wanted to do the whole package for a date, so he was going to pick you up at your apartment, and drive downtown. Then you’d park and walk together to lunch. It was cute. But it left you with too much time to think while you waited for the text that said he was downstairs.

It was just Derek. Derek who’d been your friend for months now, who could make you laugh no matter what, and who looked at you like you hung the moon when he thought you didn’t notice, and who made your stomach flip. Derek who you’d been fully ready and willing to sleep with a few weeks ago. But this felt different. It was a real date. It was a tipping point, maybe the start of something, or the end.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump.

‘Hey, I’m here. Want me to come up?’ you read.

If he came upstairs, you could probably convince him to forget the date and the questions and the everything else to pick up where you’d left off the last time he’d been to your place. The thought was tempting. But it was only delaying the inevitable.

‘I’ll be down in a sec,’ you fired back instead, gathering up your keys and purse and hurrying down to meet him.

He was standing on your front step when you got downstairs, greeting you with a surprising hug, which you were happy to return, before you both stepped back and took each other in.

“Damn,” he said with a low whistle. “You look…damn.”

You felt your cheeks flush hotly. Your outfit wasn’t something particularly fancy, but you had tried to dress nicely for him, and to take advantage of the warm spring weather.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, smiling broadly at him (code for he looked absolutely jaw-droppingly sexy in his own choice of dressy-casual).

He winked at you and then swept an arm out dramatically. “Your chariot awaits. Shall we?”

“Don’t mind if I do, kind sir,” you affected a posh accent and haughty expression before giggling and practically skipping down the stairs.

The drive, as usual, turned into an impromptu concert (mostly Bon Jovi today) and for the walk to the restaurant and all of lunch, conversation flowed easily. It was comfortable enough that you almost forgot that you had hesitated to agree.

“I hate to kill the mood,” he said after most of your meal was done. “But part of today was supposed be to figuring out us.”

You sighed. There was the other shoe, finally dropping.

“You’re right, it was.”

“So why do you think this is a bad idea?” he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Straight to the point,” you observed. “I'm surprised.”

He shrugged. “Just wanna get it done. Why dance around?”

“I don’t know. We’re friends, and I like how things are. And you and Sean are friends and if we were to try this...dating or whatever thing, and it didn’t work out I don’t want to lose us or ruin your friendship or,” you sighed. “It just seems like a lot to risk.”

“Sean and I are way too close to let a girl come between us, even if that girl is you.” He smirked teasingly at you.

“Well that makes me feel a little better,” you rolled your eyes, but there was a sincerity to your words that he definitely picked up on. “What if you’re wrong, and we start dating, and it makes things awkward between you and Sean? What if it doesn’t but we break up and then Sean has to pick between his cousin and his best friend? What if we start dating and it doesn’t work out and we lose each other? Because you’re one my best friends, Derek, and I can’t even imagine what life would actually be like without you in it, but it’s a scary thought. What if—”

He reached across the table to rest his hand on top of the fingers you were drumming anxiously on the table.

“Forget what ifs for a second.”

You looked at him skeptically.

“Just work with me. No thinking about the future. If just right now mattered, how would you feel? What would you do?”

“I don’t know. I’d feel...happy? I’d tell you that I’m having a really good time hanging out with you again, and I missed it when I got busy with finals. I’d tell you that color looks really good on you. And that you have chocolate from your pancakes on your lip, but...I think you should leave it there and let me get it…” you were blushing furiously, cheeks practically on fire, and you fought the urge to look down at the table.

He laughed, the sound filling your chest with warmth and effervescence. With a wink, he shifted his chair around the table until his knee bumped into yours.

“Go on then,” he murmured, angling even closer. “Live in just this moment.”

You breath caught in your throat, heart racing.

“Or should I do it for you?”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and his eyes traced its path.

“Derek…” your voice was barely above a breath.

And then you were both leaning in, and his hand was braced on the back of your chair, and yours was on the back of his neck. Your lips were on his and his were on yours, and for a second, time and his breath and your heart all stopped. You slid your tongue across his lip and then sucked on it lightly, removing the chocolate stain as promised and making him groan softly. His hand left the chair to curl around your back, trying to angle you closer without pulling you off your chair.

Someone cleared their throat behind you, shattering the moment and making you leap apart. The freckle-faced young waiter stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“You...uh...I was asked to come over and tell you that…” he stammered, blushing furiously.

“We’re disturbing the other customers and should keep the PDA for later?” you asked sheepishly, not unfamiliar with the feeling of having to deliver such messages to couples on dates.

He nodded rapidly before turning tail and practically fleeing back to the kitchens. You couldn’t help giggling, especially when you saw the pouting look on Derek’s face. After a moment, he grinned and joined in with your laughter, until you earned another stern look from some of the older folks in the little restaurant around you.

“Maybe we should go?” you suggested, struggling to contain yourself. “I don’t think they like us much.”

“Probably,” he answered, quickly waving down someone to bring your check.

As you walked out together, you impulsively stepped closer. You were just passing through the door and into the afternoon sunshine when you laid your head on Derek’s shoulder, making him stiffen for a moment, before he shifted his stance to make it more comfortable for the both of you, looping an arm around your waist.

“So,” he said as you wandered like that down the sidewalk in no particular direction.

“Hm?”

“What’s this mean then?”

“It means that I like you, a lot. And I like this...us...thing. And I’m still scared, but I want to give it a shot?”

“Okay.” You could practically hear the grin in his voice as his arm tightened to pull you closer.

“And if you ever break my heart, I’ll break your foot.”

“Why my foot?” he laughed.

“Because it’s easy-ish. And it makes it harder for you to leave.”

“Ah, I see. Going a little Annie Wilkes on me?”

“You’ve seen Misery?”

“No. But I liked the book.”

You tilted your head to look more fully at him, gaping.

“What? Am I not allowed to be a Stephen King fan?”

“You never cease to surprise me, Derek Sandoval.”

#am I glossing over too much of the relationship building?#am I packing too many events into a single chapter?#I worry about these things #anyway...more fluff #more cuteness #before the angst that is a'coming #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #queued for once because reasonably no one is awake at this hour

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theminecraftbee · 2 years ago

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[pardon me if ive already asked this, tumblr was acting up when I sent the ask]

so I've seen you queue a lot, why and how do you do it? I've been thinking about using the feature.

so how i use the queue is mildly different from how other people do because i use xkit on desktop to add a queue tag to things and to quick reblog/quick queue things. but i'll write you instructions assuming you're using base tumblr given that you haven't used the queue before!

so, the how to use it is fairly simple. if you click on "edit appearance" on your blog for desktop, you should see a setting titled "queue" that gives you the option of how many times a day you want to publish posts from your queue, and between what times. my queue is set to 36 times a day, all 24 hours, but many people (i'd argue most people lol) set their queue a bit slower. in addition, if you click on your account on desktop on the dropdown person menu at the top, there should also be an option titled 'queue'. you can change your settings there as well, as well as see what posts you have queued.

if you're on mobile, it's equally simple: click on the person button that takes you to your account, then click on the gear in the top right. there should be a menu option called queue that will take you to all of your posts in your queue, and a gear at the top that lets you set the frequency and what time periods you want your queue to be going during!

then, to add posts to your queue, go to reblog a post or make a post. at the 'post now' button there's a dropdown arrow. it should give you the option to add it to the queue. voila, you are now using the queue! you don't have to have a special tag like i do, i just like it because it makes sure people don't think i'm awake at like, five am or something, and also helps inform whoever i'm reblogging from that the reason i liked their post and then didn't reblog it for three days is because i have a queue, lol.

in addition, though, if you use tumblr mobile and like the quick reblog, go check your blog's settings. scroll to the tumblr labs settings, enable tumblr labs, and scroll to the bottom and there's a "quick queue" option. it adds a little clock to the bottom of posts that you can use to add things to the queue in the same way you quick reblog. if this is more convenient to you, use that (i don't because i tag my queue but if you don't have a queue tag that is probably much faster, similarly to how quick reblogging is faster).

as for why... my queue has between sixty and eighty posts in it at any given time and i OFTEN add more than the 36 posts i post from it a day to it during a day, which is to say if i DIDN'T have a queue, you all would periodically have your dash dominated by me reblogging like forty things at once then falling asleep. queue prevents me from doing that. it also guarantees my blog keeps posting reblogs for a bit which i like because one of the original purposes of this blog was "reblog people's cool fics, art, and other posts", and that remains a stated goal, so having the queue exists helps that. if i want to reblog something but i'm talking about something else/have recently posted a fic i want to focus on/am otherwise feeling like i don't want extra reblogged posts, i can also add that to the queue, which will keep posting obviously but at a much slower rate that swamps my blog less quickly. plus i've also been informed that apparently artists can like the fact my queue takes like two days because it gives them another activity bump a few days after their initial activity, but this is something i've only heard from a few people and frankly i did not think about at all so mileage may vary.

you, obviously, don't have to use a queue - there are a lot of reasons why people might not want to! for example, the fact that posts i queue take like three days to post leads to this funny thing where i have all my initial mcc posting and then there's a short wave of additional mcc posting that hits my blog several days later you can TELL how long my queue currently is if a big fandom event happens, i calm down, and then you see more reblogged posts, lol. but i personally like it, i think it helps!

as for what logic i decide what to queue and what not to queue by: typically if it has more than a 100 notes i put it in the queue and if it doesn't i just reblog it because i figure they want more immediate attention as opposed to delayed attention. however if i am on a spree of looking through a tag sometimes i ignore this and just queue everything i'm looking at so that the posts i reblog don't get buried and my followers don't get swamped so this is not a hard-and-fast rule. also if a post is about Current Events i'm less likely to queue it because of the time delay (so that the post remains current).

uhhhh... that's about it i hope this helps!

#answered #i also don't use the queue on my main blog but that's because i frankly only reblog stuff to my main these days #and otherwise Do Not Use my main #so i just don't bother

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writemarvelousthings · 5 years ago

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Let It Snow.

PAIRING: Reader x Bucky

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: A little tiny bit of angst if you squint but mostly fluff, and Bucy hating the cold.

A/N: This is for @arawynn ‘s Festive Winter Wonderland Writing Challenge! There are still lots of prompts and scenarios left if anyone is interested you should defiantly check it out! My prompt was “Everything is ready for an afternoon in front of the fireplace” And a big thank you to @bucky-plums-barnes and @abovethesmokestacks for beta reading and pointing out things I missed! Would be lost without those girls! I hope you all enjoy and it puts you in the Christmas mood x

Gif, not mine.

The cold seeps in slow and undetectable at first, the falling leaves are the first clue. Crunching crisp leaves turn into sludge. One wrong misstep could send your ankle rolling unnaturally and your heart rate skyrocketing. The cold nips at your nose and cheeks, it makes you shudder stepping out into the elements, large coats and woollen hats appear in the streets as people move more quickly, desperate to find a place of warmth. Then suddenly, all at once. The snows arrive and the world is bathed in a pristine white glow that brings the promise of YuleTide and once again Bucky is reminded how much he hates the cold.

Sam rips into him, howling at how such an imposing man could look like a petulant child swaddled in jumpers and scarves that cover the bottom half of his face his ice blue eyes rivalling the icicles that shine in the low morning sunlight. He tries to hide his discomfort from you, but you can see right through him.

You notice the way he favours his left shoulder in the mornings, the cold stabbing at the torn and reassembled muscle to steel. Not even Shuri’s genius with vibranium can fix seventy years of damaging scar tissue, you know it will be something Bucky will carry with him always. Just like how the cold brings back flashes of old memories, a fast-moving train. Steve screaming, cold sterilised rooms Hydra kept him in during his years of “service”. The memories don't keep him awake at night like they used to, but the cold always brings them back, how ironic that the Winter Soldier despises the very season he’s named after.

On this particular day morning arrives as usual, sunrise bathing the room in soft pink and orange hues. It catches the dust particles floating through the air before disappearing into the shadows, you smile softly, snuggling into the large heat source next to you. Tilting your chin upwards, you watch the sleeping man. There was a time you’d be the one waking up to him looking down at you, ice blue eyes crinkling at the edges as he gives you a soft smile only reserved for you. It’s a smile that sends a thousand fireflies bursting in your chest.

He’s on his back, one arm curled around your waist, the black vibranium tucked under his pillow beneath his head. His plump lips opened slightly, he’s relaxed. Open and vulnerable in your presence, it makes you reach out to trace the curve of his nose. The light touch makes him follow you, turning his head towards your smiling face.

“Good morning handsome.”

“Morning, sugar.”

Soft kisses press against your palm and wrist, sleeping snuffling noises akin to a puppy fall from his lips make you chuckle.

“You got that meeting in an hour.” you remind him gently, your fingers finding home against his skull. You scratch against it lightly as Bucky starts purring in earnest.

“But it’s nice and warm here, don’t wanna get up. Too cold.” To prove a point he tucks his toes behind your calves. The freezing offending toes in question make you squeak, donkey kicking back in retaliation you try and wiggle your way out of his grip. Bucky pouts grabbing at you gently.

“Why are you running from me, pretty girl, you wanna break this old man’s heart?”

You roll your eyes shifting quickly to straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him soundly on the lips. “I’d never dream of it, but Sam might break something if you’re late again. You’re debriefing Peter and Carol remember,” you try not to grin at Bucky's expense as he groans pulling a pillow over his face.

“Come on, the sooner you get up, the sooner you can come back to the fun activity I’ve got planned for us.” You watch as the pillow is flung off his head, hands instantly on your hips as he gazes up at you through thick black lashes.

“Pretty sure we already did a fun activity last night… twice.” Despite fully remembering said fun activity, his words still manage to make you blush as you slap his hands off your hips springing off him with as much grace you can muster at eight in the morning.

“Up and at 'em, Sarge, the day is dawning.” You wander into the bathroom away from Bucky's soft groaning, the cold already settling in his bones.

Bucky often wonders what his life would have been like if he never fell off that damn train. If he made it back home after the war if Steve never crashed the plane into the glacier. Would they have settled back in Brooklyn, would he have found a pretty dame that could have handled all the trauma he had gone through. Probably not, he doesn’t like to think about that too much. Because that world didn’t have you, or the small apartment you both shared in Brooklyn (at least the idea of settling in Brooklyn still stuck, just like the damn snow under his boots) The white offensive substance crunched merrily underfoot as he stomped up the steps to the apartment building. The cold he felt this morning still clung to his insides like frost, he still didn’t feel any warmer as he trundled into the lobby of the building. Stomping and shaking the snow off him like a dog, hair hanging limply against his cheeks, he really needed to start wearing that beanie you got him last week. Going through the mundane checklist of opening the mailbox, he relishes in the normality. Especially after reprimanding two superhumans about how-

“Just because you’re indestructible and can shoot webs out of god knows where you can not Instagram live a mission.”

With a handful of what he assumes is more Christmas cards, he thumps heavily up the stairs, no doubt to the irritation of Ms Jenkins on the second floor. Miserable woman, Bucky couldn’t recall a time where he has seen her smile.

“I'm home,” he calls through the familiar space as he shoulder opens the door, instant warmth floods through his damp coat, his skin tingling sharply.

Shrugging off the offending damn coat, he hangs it by your bright red one, the woollen material a bright contrast to his black. He smiles as he recalls your comment as you pull it out from the depths of your wardrobe.

“Red is such a festive colour! Everyone should have a Christmas coat, James, it should be the law.”

“I swear that’s the last time I’m letting Sam put Danvers and the Parker kid on missions again. They cause more havoc than they stop, I swear to…”

The words die on his throat faster than the Central Park lake freezing over in January. The living room, which had looked relatively normal this morning, was now what can only be described as an explosion of Christmas. Fairy lights strung along each wall and shelving. Small ornaments stood proud on the mantle, the familiar sight of the pine tree towered in the corner of the room like a festive sentinel standing guard looking over the room, but what makes Bucky's heart simultaneously melt and expand is the pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the room. His eyes gaze around the room till he finds you, stood by the tree, fuzzy socks on your feet as you push the sleeves of his grey hoodie up your arms.

“Help a girl will you, Sarge?” The grin that spreads across your lips is slow and sweet like molasses. Innocently holding out the glistening star towards him, Bucky toes off his boots and strides towards you, curling the black and gold arm around you as he takes the star gently out of your hand.

“You going to let me do the honours, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t feel like Christmas if you didn’t.”

He feels your wrap your arms around his waist as he leans upwards to place the twinkling star atop the tree, warm hands slide under his shirt, leaving a burning trail against his skin that shoots down to the very nucleus of his cells.

“Perfect,” you whisper into his shoulder as you both stand back looking at the tree, your hands rub small circles on his lower back as you feel him drop his lips to the top of your head.

“You really are.”

“I was talking about the tree, you old sap.” You poke his side for good measure only to be pulled back into his embrace.

“Well, everything’s ready for an afternoon in front of the fireplace. Go get changed then meet me back here.” You give his ass a light tap as you push him gently towards your bedroom.

“Alright, alright, woman, can’t a man enjoy holding his sweetheart in his arms for a few moments?”

You knew his words were empty, especially with the bright grin radiating from him. With a spring in his step, he makes quick work of changing into the soft grey sweatpants and red sweatshirt laid out on the bed. Eager to be back in your arms and under the soft blankets, the cold winds whipping against the windows, but Bucky can’t find a reason to pay them any mind. Not when you’re sitting pretty in front of the fire, two steaming cups in each hand, no doubt with It’s A Wonderful Life queued up on the tv. He doesn’t think of the seventy years spent cold, alone and in pain. He’d walk through the worst blizzard till his toes were purple and his nose frostbitten to hell if it meant you would be at the end waiting for him, with all the warmth in the world to thaw him out, calling him back home.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #ArawynnsFestiveWinterWonderland #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #my writing

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marrymeleoxxiu · 4 years ago

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YSL Valentine’s Day

BamBam x Noona Reader

Fluff / Slow Burn / Angst

Everyone can read.

I started stressing about Valentine’s Day on perhaps February 5th, the Friday after my newborn nephew was born. I was getting notifications about gifts for him on every email, pin-terest, places I visit online and I was thinking to myself, “Why not try to get him something.” I started window shopping around online that very day and during the weekend that followed. I spent some time on my couch in the living room around my parents, doing just this. I feel like I should spoil him with something extra special, like a YSL Men’s perfume because I won’t be with him on this day.

I decided on a whim to look up his favorite brand of YSL on an easily accessible store to me. I brought it up with my mom that week, that I wanted to get my brother and father something too. After pestering her about it for a full day, she said in a week we will go get them their gifts; Never happened due to other things happening and daily life getting in the way.

----Time Skip---- (Messaging him)

But now that it's Valentine’s day In South Korea, on February 13th, I decided to send him a direct message just letting him know he’s on my mind today and that I wish him a Happy Valentine’s day. I kind of also share my thoughts to him on other topics involving him sharing more so I feel more involved in the relationship; not expecting a reply back. But he responds with a “Happy Valentine’s Day.” It makes me sincerely smile and my heart gently does a backflip. His girlfriend, me, confesses to him in a private message, “That you are all I need on this day and that I wish we could actually go on a date. That would be great.” But I understand how busy he is. Again, not expecting anything back. He or a friend posts an image of him and Jae-Beom. I respond to it and then carry about my day, with my man and one and only on my mind. Once again, not expecting anything. I message a friend or two, feeling an extra dose of pining for him on this day.

----Time Skip----

I open canva after a while of internet activities with friends and decide during a lull of communication from everyone; to make something. The idea was graphics for BamBam and my tumblr blog; they are soon queued and or sent directly to his direct messages in the moment after it’s been saved. I don’t hear from him for very many, many hours later. I’m sitting in my room looking at our chat, hoping to hear from him soon. Nothing comes in. I feel guilty and sad that I couldn’t get him the YSL perfume that I wanted to get him. I know it’s because he’s busy as an Idol for GOT7, and going through a process of change in his business life. Which I wholeheartedly support. But it still bothers me and makes me even more sad that he has not appreciated my gift. But then surprisingly enough a message comes in from BamBam saying “Yeah, I’m outside your house~! Happy Valentine’s Day~!”

My eyes go wide at the message, but I push myself quickly off my bed, barefooted and rush outside to greet him. Once outside, I try to get to him as quickly as I can, but he’s standing right outside my door. Our bodies full on collide into each other. I wrap my arms tightly around him. I am shocked and have no words whatsoever. My heart is beating a million miles an hour. He separates our bodies from the deep hug for a moment to bend down and kiss me right then and there, gently. I respond back with my own kiss. But I make my lips linger on his for a good minute. He then breaks the kiss and looks at me.

“Wow, so cute and yet you really weren’t expecting me.”

I blush and stutter my response. “Bammie, It is late. Y-you really shouldn’t have, but I’m so damn happy you’re finally here~! I-I love you s-so much~!” I feel so nervous and yet excited.

He looks at me from head to toe. I’m wearing a blueish grey and pink leopard oversized sleep shirt and red and pink heart leggings. He pulls me towards him for another hug and I really don’t want to let go of him.

“Are you going to let me in?” He asks.

“Of course hunny~” I mutter gently against his chest. “I need to get you settled in, on the couch or my bed.” I wink at him, flirting.

“Whichever one you’re parents will allow. I’m sure your mom is still awake. It’s going to be fun to meet her,”

“Maybe we can get you in without a fuss. My dad wakes early also just like me.”

At that, I grab his hand and bring him inside and close and lock the door.

To Be Continued?

@kpopandvarieties Special thanks to Miss. Jenna for helping me for several hours on this. Fangirling along side me on google docs, totally acting a fool together. <3 I am so happy to have a friend like you.

@galacticbammie Just tagging you so you see this. <3

@key201303 Tagging you too for same reason to view it. <3

#BAMBAM #GOT7 #self-insert #fantruth #me in fantasy land #hope it really does happen giggles #so much love #i don't trust tumblr any more. this should have been posted 3 hours later.#SHOOK BY TUMBLR #got7 fluff #got7 angst #bambam fluff #bambam slow burn #bambam angst

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 69

Obligatory pun - Nice.

Now that I have that out of my system and can therefore stop making horridly adolescent puns about it, this really is a pretty important chapter. We finally see what is going to become of Else!

This is also a particularly long chapter - 4500 words, probably my longest to date. Happy Insert Winter Holiday, Everyone!

I seriously considered splitting it (you can probably figure out where the break would be), but cooler heads prevailed (namely, @satan-parisienne, my beloved beta/sister/IRL!Tyche, and @baelpenrose, my constant source of mutual squeeing).

This is being queued up on December 23, to post on December 24. I still hope to have a chapter to post next week, especially since what I have is so thematically appropriate for the date ;)

After Grey’s revelation of our timetable, the Council decided that negotiations with Else would take place within twenty-four hours. To his credit, Eino promised to deliver the lexicon, but admitted that there would not be time for the precisely worded questions to be drafted and approved. Since we also didn’t have time for Grey to locate another person who had spoken directly with Else, the questions were ultimately unnecessary – I had been making up questions on the fly for Else to this point, so I had no problem continuing to do so.

Once Xiomara closed the channel on our end, I tried to stand. Almost immediately, my traitorous knees objected and I was only saved from hitting the floor by Xio’s quick reflexes. “You’ve been on bed rest for the last three weeks, take it slow, dumbass,” she grumbled.

I forced myself into a standing position, propped up on the bed. “I have to talk to Conor and Maverick, and I’m sick of seeing the inside of this bay. Either get me the closest thing we have to a wheelchair, or I’m going to crawl to my quarters.”

“You do realize that even the Ark has backless hospital gowns? Everyone on the Ark would see you practically naked.”

I grabbed her shirt, and my pride was mollified when she leaned forward and gave me the illusion that I pulled her down. “Either get me a moving chair, or I will crawl down the corridor. Naked.”

With a barely-suppressed chuckle, she helped me into some clothes and onto a transport in the corridor. “While we are on our way, I’ll go ahead and give you the rundown of everyone you are going to ask about. Derek and Sam came out of everything mostly unscathed. They’re a little more jittery than usual, but that’s honestly to be expected. Alistair is grumpy as hell from being flat on his back for so long, but once he was notified you were awake, he limited his bitching to the sheets, the mattress, and the lack of exercise. Charly is awake and alert, but tired and nervous… dropping by to see her would probably be a good idea, honestly. Grandma Kim is Grandma Kim and taking everything in stride. Zach is completely undaunted and unimpressed.”

The slouch I had been suppressing made itself apparent in the wake of my relief. “So, everyone is okay?”

“Well, Hannah and Thor are still asleep, but they’ve been upgraded from comatose to just ‘asleep’. Nixe is breathing on her own, the new lungs are working fine.”

My breath left my body suddenly. “No brain-damage?”

“Not comparatively, no.”

Good. Allowing myself to take in the condition of the real Ark, several things caught my eye. “Xio….”

She grinned and shook her head, locks flying. “Ah. You saw the trees.” I nodded dumbly, speechless. “As soon as they were approved to get out of bed, Derek and Sam started pestering Conor to start setting up the trees for Insert Winter Holiday. Apparently, they were behind schedule, and Derek was very upset about that.”

“And they’re already done?”

“Are you kidding?” she laughed. “They just started yesterday. Even with both of your boyfriends helping, they still have at least two more days to finish.”

“They’re already decorated,” I murmured.

“Sam was bored while he was on bed rest,” she shrugged. “So there are a lot of really intricate bows to put on all the trees.”

“Awesome,” I gushed enthusiastically. “I love trees that are over-decorated.” When she quirked an eyebrow at me, I rushed to reassure her. “No, I’m serious. The more heavily decorated the better. I know not all cultures do trees for winter holidays, but if there are trees, I love seeing them absolutely covered.” Truth be told, the decorations were helping dismiss some of the melancholy that came from knowing that I almost missed Insert Winter Holiday in everything that was going on. I shook my head to clear the thoughts. “So, I’m going to guess the trees are the reason we are most certainly not headed toward my quarters.”

With a blinding grin, she shook her head. “Nope. They should be somewhere on Level Eleven. That’s where we’re going.”

Soon enough, we stumbled upon an energetic argument between Maverick and Derek. “But this side looks nicer!”

“That’s not how it was placed last year. The same side should show. That’s why Sam put more bows on the correct side.”

“How can you even tell!?”

Conor was standing back, smiling like he was watching the cutest thing he had ever seen. When he glanced up and saw me, the smile vanished and he promptly reached between them to point in my direction. “Looks like our girl is up and around.”

Astonishingly, Derek beat them both to me and reached to tap my hand three times in succession, dropping his hand to his side each time. My heart swelled with emotion, realizing that he essentially just gave me a bone-crushing hug. “Yeah, I’m okay, Derek. Just tired and a little weak.”

I braced myself for a much more physical greeting, but was saved when Conor and Maverick stopped dead in their tracks and backed up slightly. In their rush to make sure I was okay, it looked like they tripped the proximity alert in Derek’s implant. “Did you do that on purpose?” I asked in hushed tones.

Without looking up, Derek flashed me a knocking gesture, positioned between his body and mine so the other two couldn’t see it. “They get carried away, and if you didn’t walk down here, they may hurt you by accident.” A brief pause. “Besides, they were in quarantine with you. I haven’t seen you since you brought me your blanket.”

“I missed you, too. And Sam. Looks like he was busy, by the way.”

“You have no idea. Zach was practically buried under Sam’s bows. I got lucky. Mac kept trying to play with them and accidentally tore one to pieces. After that, Sam stopped piling them on my bed.”

“If you see him before I do, let him know the bows are beautiful.”

“Duh. Sam makes the best bows. But I’ll tell him you said that.” With that, he stepped around to the other side of the transport so my partners could approach, with a warning to them about being gentle and not breaking me. Xiomara was practically vibrating in her seat from suppressed laughter at this point.

“Hey, you two,” I said softly as they gently checked me over before giving a very restrained double-hug. I took a moment to just breathe them in before breaking the news. “Trees look great – are there more this year?”

Conor nodded, shoving a hand through his shaggy hair. “We started cultivating them last year, so they would all be about the same size. As soon as we were given permission to get up and about, I figured everyone could use the cheer.”

With a heavy sigh, I nodded my head. “You know how I feel about throwing food at people to help recover from a crisis.”

Maverick nodded solemnly. “But, last year when Insert Winter Holiday happened, there wasn’t a crisis, was there?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Xiomara beat me to it. “No, there really wasn’t, unless you count all of us being abducted for our own good. Which makes this more a need to feel normal than anything else.”

“That was kind of the point last year,” I grumbled.

“And it worked,” she reassured me. “Just like it will work this year.” With that, she issued a very pointed look, silently reminding me why we were here.

Taking a deep breath, I turned back to Conor and Maverick. “The reason everyone feels better is because Else is dying.” Both of the looked confused, so I clarified. “They are killing themselves in an effort to stop hurting us. They aren’t eating, and they aren’t spreading. If something doesn’t change, they’ll be extinct in less than two weeks.”

“This is bad,” Maverick stated uncertainly, looking between the rest of us for confirmation.

“It is,” I nodded. “Because they are sentient species, we can’t just let them die off without trying to help. And,” I held up a hand to prevent the inevitable questions and objections, “I don’t mean just letting them go back to making us sick. Xio and I talked to the Council, there are two solid options on the table as far as relocation – a dying planet or a nebula. The trick is, Else has to agree to whatever is decided.”

“And if they don’t?” Conor asked in the calm tone he always used when he knew he didn’t have all the information.

“If they don’t agree to anything, and keep dying off, we think there is a chance that they will drop below some kind of threshold for sapience. In that event, it’s mostly likely that they would forget to restrain themselves, start multiplying and spreading again.”

“So, they would dip below sentience and pop back up?” Conor tilted his head skeptically. “I’m not getting something. Usually, the plants I cultivate don’t end up with feelings and the impulse control of toddler.”

“To begin with, we don’t know how sick we got before they developed that level of intelligence,” I pointed out. “Second… if they do evolve back into sentient status, there is no guarantee they would be the same – version, for lack of a better term. Different neural connections are what give us our own personalities… this Else wants to help us. What if the next one doesn’t? Worse, what if it wants to actively hurt us due to some primordial memory?”

“Better the devil you know,” Maverick murmured.

I sagged in resignation at what I had to tell them next. “Pretty much. Which means humanity needs to negotiate with Else to figure out a solution both sides can live with.” Closing my eyes as tightly as possible, I braced for the torrent of words that would inevitably come.

Instead, I got two beats of silence and Maverick speaking softly. “Is there anyone who can do this instead? Anyone at all?”

“Not that Grey has been able to locate,” Xiomara responded over my shoulder as I cracked an eyelid.

What I saw was a clearly upset Conor biting his lips and holding Maverick’s hand, which was resting on the taller man’s bicep. “Conor?” I asked slowly. “Are you angry?”

He took two deep breaths before answering. “Yeah,” he finally sighed, tension dropping from his body. “But at the situation, which I can’t do anything about.” Gently, he put both his hands on my shoulders and rubbed my arms lightly. “How soon does this need to be done? Is there more time to find someone who isn’t you?”

“No one knows at what point Else will basically devolve into just another bacterial infection,” I admitted. “So, we want to do this as soon as possible, and regardless of the option chosen, as soon as an agreement is reached, they’ll be placed in coldsleep in the interim to prevent further degradation of us or them.”

“You’re being cagey.” Both he and Maverick pinned me with very pointed looks. “That’s never a good sign.”

“No more than twenty-four hours.”

More deep breaths as he stepped away, one hand on his hip, the other rubbing his neck as he paced in a small circle. “That should be enough time to get the rest of the trees up, as long as we just let Derek call the shots on placement. Mav, can you manage to do that?”

He shuddered. “I may need to just find something else to do. I can only handle so much.”

Conor nodded. “Right then. You keep our bonnie lass company while they get her ready, let me know when they plan to start. I’ll be there, even if I have to tell Zach and Derek to just – I dunno, space the damned trees out an airlock.”

“Conor, you don’t – “

Two long strides and he was back in front of me, stroking my hair. “Love. I’ve mucked up in a big way lately, letting myself be too afraid and not being there like I should be. ‘S not fair to you, ‘s not fair to Mav being pulled like that. I understand if you don’t want me in there, with the way I’ve been acting, but otherwise? I’ll be parked by your berth til we land this lady on the colony if I have to be.”

With a sniffle, I nodded my head silently. Xiomara was not as convinced. “Conor, if you lash out one more time, I will take you into custody, do you understand? I could not believe that you raised your voice the way you did before – you are one of the kindest people I know.”

“Understood, ma’am.” He managed to sound only slightly embarrassed by his previous behavior.

Wiping my eyes, I straightened the best I could. “Okay. I need to head back to the med bay – I’m exhausted. Maverick, ride back with me?”

“You got it, Sophie.” With that, he hopped in behind me in the transport

Twelve hours and a nap later, I was in my all-too-familiar berth in medical, being hooked up to an infusion drip for medication. By grace alone, there was no need to hook me up to any wires like there would have been on Earth – they could monitor my brain and cardiac activity with scans instead. “No sedation if I get mad again, okay?” I demanded sternly. “I need to be clear-headed for this.”

“I make no promises,” Grey replied in a very similar tone to when they observed that my plants had grown. “If your heart rate becomes dangerous, or you show signs of an anxiety or panic attack, I will sedate you for your own sake.”

Ugh. Grey was back to being logical. “Can I at least request the minimum effective dose, nothing more?”

One dark eyebrow arched. You are on thin ice, it screamed. “That is acceptable, provided it does not endanger your health.”

Before I could do more than scowl, the door hissed open to reveal a daunting number of people. In addition to the entire Council, I saw Tyche, Antoine, Alistair of all people, Zach and Derek. Bringing up the rear was Conor, who quickly darted over to my far side, beside Maverick. Tyche and Antoine took up their now-usual positions on my other side, with my sister’s grey eyes colder than I had ever seen them, daring the Council to try to make her move.

They better have Archimedes’s lever if they plan to try that, I mused. Gently resting a hand on her arm in solidarity, I turned to face the breathless man who just sat on my opposite side. “You made it,” I whispered.

“Told ya I would,” he grinned. “Can’t abandon you and Mav to do this alone.” He glanced up and his brows instantly furrowed. “Why’s the Council here?”

Maverick tackled that one, having been present for the initial explanation. “In case any solutions are suggested by Else that weren’t already covered by the Council, but have merit.”

“Okay… How’re they supposed to know what is discussed, exactly? Noah can only get vague hints, can’t they?”

Grimacing, I rocked my head side to side in hesitancy. “Yes and no? They know the lyrics to songs that are stuck in my head, sometimes. Or at least understand the concepts enough to make it seem like he does. We are going to try having me stop and repeat, slowly and emphatically, what Else is suggesting if they go off script.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“I’ve – I may have been given executive authority in an emergency,” I admitted.

Conor whistled through his teeth. “Sophie. That’s – that’s a lot of pressure.”

“No shit,” I muttered before turning to everyone else standing in the room. “Okay, is this my entire watch party, or are we still waiting?”

Simon spoke up – he was getting better at that. “This is everyone. And a few extras, but I am not going to be the one arguing with your family, especially since the majority agreed to stay out of your way.” He coughed and rubbed his neck before explaining the obvious exceptions. “Tyche and Antoine are claiming official capacity.”

My sister held her head high, chin out – if there was an encyclopedia entry for not gonna budge, that profile was probably the photo next to it. “Should something happen, the responsibility would fall on me to identify candidates for her replacement to suggest to the Council. Since I would rather not, I am staying to observe and ensure it doesn’t come to that.”

Before Antoine could do more than straighten his spine, Grey spoke up. “Mr. Costa is a medical professional, and I have requested him be present, in that capacity, for this procedure.”

Eino attempted a token argument. “Councillor Hodenson, you are a doctor. Can you not – “

“I have a doctorate. Three, actually: biochemistry, genetics, and molecular chemistry. None of that replaces practical training, which Mr. Costa possesses and I do not.”

The educator’s hands went up, mollified. “I stand corrected. Objection withdrawn.”

“Okay, can we please get on with this before I have fourth thoughts?” Second and third were out the window at this point – I had been lying in the berth with nothing else to do but worry for nine hours at this point.

“Any further objections or inquiries from the Council before we proceed?” Grey asked drily. When only silence followed, they nodded. “Per my reports, Else can currently only communicate when a person is in a REM state. Our previous attempt involved Sophia being lucid during this process, to great effect. However, I believe that her complete immobility is what caused the difficulty in relaying information back to Miys. I have adjusted the medication to allow for voluntary muscle control in order to allow her to hopefully subvocalize while relaying information, as this has shown to provide accurate communication with Miys. Sophia is already aware, but to ensure there are no surprises, a spinal block will be placed in order to limit motion to head and jaw. This is only to prevent flailing and potential injury to Sophia.”

Tyche and Conor both turned toward me with wide-eyed stares. I just nodded. “We’ve tested it a couple times to make sure I could still talk. It’s the same way Noah kept me from hurting myself further when I came aboard, originally.” Unspoken was the fact that being held down freaked me the fuck out, whereas I had found the spinal block did not do the same thing when I knew to expect it. In theory, dream-me would never notice the difference.

Grey continued. “Miys will begin transmitting Eino’s lexicon into Sophia’s lingual implant. Sophia, please recite the lexicon once it starts transmitting. This will allow us to monitor communication, both from us to your implant and from you to Miys.” They looked around the room. “It is essential that no one speak unless absolutely essential that they do so. Sophia will perceive this as being whispered, and it is imperative that she hear the lexicon accurately.”

“I love you,” I whispered to the four sitting around my bed, before I started reciting a list of words. True to Eino’s promise, his team had put together a much more concise recording, one which looped back to the beginning. Within thirty minutes, I had completed the entire list twice: once completely out loud, once seeming to trail off as the sedation took effect. The spinal block gave a similar sensation to being weighed down by a heavy blanket, making it more therapeutic than nerve-wracking, and only encouraging the sedatives. When I stopped speaking aloud, Grey nodded to confirm that I was still subvocalizing effectively. Not long after that, my eyes drifted closed.

I opened my eyes to find myself standing in the familiar dream-Ark, still reciting the lexicon. So far, so good. I wanted badly to call out and check on Else, but determinedly stuck to the script. Tears of concern flowed down my cheeks as I completed repetition after repetition. Were we too late? Was the threshold closer than we expected?

Threshold. Late threshold.

“Else!” I cried in relief. “Are we too late?”

Threshold further.

“The threshold is further away? Is that what you mean?”

We mean threshold further away.

Belatedly, I remembered I needed to supplement the lexicon with my questions. “That would be a yes. Thank goodness. I was worried you would be – no longer here.”

We are here.

“We know what you are doing. You don’t have to kill yourself. We don’t want you to go extinct. We want you to live, just like you want us to survive. I’ve been sent to discuss options. Most likely relocation, like we talked about before.”

We do want you to live. What are the options?

There we go. Much more coherent. I sat cross-legged on the floor, craning my neck around. “Is there any chance you can try to… manifest or create something for me to look at? I keep trying to see you, just out of habit, and it would be easier if I had something specific to look at.”

I will try.

Slowly, a fuzzy yellow blob came into focus on the floor in front of me. It was about the size I associated with a corgi, but bright yellow. I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face as it slowly drew on grass-green eyes and too many stubby appendages.

Else looked – cute, for lack of a better term. Like an oversized, fuzzy, cartoon caterpillar

“That works,” I laughed.

I tried to manifest as non-threatening as possible.

“I think you nailed it.” I couldn’t help wondering if this was what Else would look like as a larger being. One could only hope. “The people on my ship have asked me to negotiate with you. They are monitoring the best they can what I am saying, but there are going to be times that I need to repeat something to be absolutely sure. When that happens, I am going to do this – “ I touched my ear with my hand. “That way it is clear – to me – that I am repeating it for my shipmates, okay?”

Okay.

Still going well. “Like I said earlier, we know you have stopped feeding, and stopped reproducing. There is a serious chance that you won’t be sentient anymore… you won’t be you.”

I don’t want to hurt anyone.

“But… Else. If you stop being you, you won’t remember that you don’t want to hurt anyone. What is the first thing you remember?”

Hungry.

“Exactly,” I pointed out. “You’ll just be hungry, again. We want you to stay who you are now – intelligent, with feelings, and able to communicate with us. And we hope to help you with that.”

Help how.

“Well, you and I already talked last time about taking you to a nebula, or to an iron rich planet with no atmosphere. We can even place beacons to let others know you live there, so maybe a species who doesn’t depend on iron to survive can find you.”

We really like humans.

I sighed. Of course they did. “The problem there is that we need the iron you eat so that we can function properly, just like you need it. Even if you die faster without it, we can still die without constant transfusions.” I focused on what it was like being in medical, sick and scared, connected around the clock to a machine that basically fed Else. “Humans cannot thrive like that. But you can thrive without us.”

I was one-third my current population when I realized I was hungry.

That stopped me dead in my tracks. “Wait. Did you just tell me the threshold for you to be sapient?”

Yes.

Breathless, I reached up to touch my ear and focused as hard as I could. “Whoever is speaking in fractions out there, I owe you dinner.” I repeated it several times in a whisper, praying it made it through clearly. Finally, I turned back to Else. “The information you just gave us creates more options, Else. We can ensure you survive.” I stood and started pacing around the now-wiggling caterpillar. “If we remove you from our bodies, can you survive in a culture?”

Yes. There are several of me in cultures now.

Right. Grey’s tests. “If we removed you, placed you in cultures, would you promise to stay in the cultures and start reproducing again?”

I can, yes.

“Next step: Half of you in a nebula, to guarantee you would survive, and half on a planet? You could potentially be like Miys, and develop more individuals of your species without risking your sentience.”

Thirds.

“Not thirds, halves.” It seemed confused by the change in fractions.

Nebula, planet, Ark. Thirds.

Not as confused as I thought, apparently. “You want us to keep part of you on the Ark!?” I asked incredulously.

All options. One-third of me in a nebula, ensure survival. One-third on a planet, meet a new species. One-third on Ark, in culture, stay with humans. Absurdly, it wiggled even more, as though excited at the idea.

I repeated the proposal back to the Council and Miys, again praying they heard me. After several minutes of hoping in vain, I received nothing. Knowing that much more time was passing for them, if I hadn’t had a response by now, it wasn’t coming.

“I need to think this through,” I said aloud. “The Council agreed to taking you to a nebula OR a barren world… surely they would agree to both of those, no problem…. But they didn’t agree to you staying on the Ark, except in coldsleep.” I changed direction and paced clockwise this time. “They – we – also had no idea that you would be willing to stay in a culture, like some fish in an aquarium.”

Aquarium. I like that. Can I stay in an aquarium instead?

“On the scale we are talking, it’s basically the same thing, but please don’t push your luck,” I scowled at the wide-eyed caterpillar. That thing was just too fucking cute, which was decidedly not helping me.

Executive authority. Executive authority. I had the power to make this decision, but probably because they knew I would agonize over it. With a groan, I stopped in my tracks. “Else, if we let part of you stay on the ship, we need a guarantee of good behavior. Meaning, if you infect us again, you have to agree that we are taking that entire third of you to the nearest nebula or planet. Do you understand that?”

The caterpillar fucking bounced, like it was happy. Yes, I understand. And I agree to those terms.

I was going to regret this. I just knew it. Huge mistake.

“Welcome to the Ark, Else.”

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#the miys #aliens #original sci fi #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #apocalypse #science fiction #original work

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years ago

Text

You Send Me: Chapter Eight

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe

Did I seriously include the song this fic is named for in the fic? Of course I did lol. Part of this fic is self-indulgence, another bit is wanting to write good fic y’all will enjoy, and the other part is getting more people to listen to Sam Cooke.

Also, much like Freddie, I’m a gay who can’t drive. I’ve had a few lessons on an automatic, was too terrified to learn stick at all, so if the driving in this chapter is questionable...yeah. There’s a reason I made description in that section brief lol. In my defense, Freddie is also involved in that portion, so this is the blind leading the blind here, but doing their best. Points if you notice the real life driving mistake I made when I had lessons that I included in this fic!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Come dance!” Freddie, usually shy in public, was officially drunk enough to be less shy, and it was adorable.

Until now.

“I don’t dance,” you insisted. “I’m content to watch you lot go.”

“You said you like Sam Cooke,” he protested, pointing at the jukebox, which at this bar held almost exclusively ‘50s and ‘60s sock bop sounding pop music. “That’s what’s playing, and what we have queued up. Come on, let yourself have some fun!”

Blessedly, it switched to a slower favorite of yours, You Send Me, as Freddie pulled you out of your seat. This, you knew you could manage.

And with no one there aside from the bar staff, the band, and the crew, you could actually enjoy it, letting your arms wrap around Freddie to hold him close while you swayed. It maybe wasn’t ‘dancing’ exactly, but it was lovely, and his smile was well worth it.

“I bet you can sing this well,” Freddie mumbled. “I want you to sing it for me. Go on.”

“Freddie,” you blushed. “Maybe later.”

“Later,” he nodded. “Fine. In the next hotel room, you’re going to sing for me.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Sure. If we’re both awake by then.”

Even though you were refraining from drinking more than a sip of whatever Freddie was having, you figured you would still be exhausted from running about with them. They were fun, but energetic fun, more than you were used to from working the same venue each night.

The crew fell away from their professional personas as well, and you chuckled as you drifted with the group to the next bar, one arm holding Freddie close and mostly upright, the other tugging John in line, as he would turn to look at whatever caught his eye as you went down the road, and would occasionally forget to continue walking as he did.

Crystal and Roger were mostly holding each other up, and Brian was trying to tally exactly how much each of you had already had to drink, in what seemed to be an attempt to ensure no one got any drunker. Adorably, he kept getting distracted by the sky, desperately working to point out various stars and constellations to whoever was closest to him, disparaging the brightness of the city lights that made them hard to see.

You could only compare it to kittens, or puppies, let loose in a yard for the first time. Interested in everything, with unsteady legs, barely able to recall exactly what their original goal in moving was.

Somehow, the next bar still agreed to serve you all, though you again found yourself not wanting to drink much at all. It was more fun watching everyone else get sloshed, the playful barking at each other over the drinking competitions that started over already half-drunk pints of beer. Besides that, someone would need to have most of their mind present to get everyone back to the van.

The idea was to drive right away, and make the two or so hours to Kalamazoo so everyone could rest before the show. However, the more everyone partied, the more you wondered if that was an achievable goal.

Sure enough, getting them back to the van was chore enough.

“I’m not ready for the van,” John mumbled. “I hate that thing.”

“You helped pick it out,” you giggled.

He was draped over your shoulder, feet stumbling along, trying to hold hands with Freddie behind your back. “I know. It was cheapest, and safest, but it’s so ugly. You know, you know, it won’t even be the booze that makes me sick, it’ll be the interior of it.”

“It’ll be the booze for me,” Freddie said cheerfully, before patting you on the back and stumbling to the nearest trash can on the corner. It sounded painful, but he grinned even as he stumbled back. “No more for me. Too much, much too much already. That’s a funny word, much...”

John groaned as Freddie continued to rhapsodize about the word ‘much’, and you focused on keeping them both walking.

Granted, the trail you were following was an odd one, with Brian and Roger and the crew leaning on each other just ahead of you, laughing and walking in anything but a straight line. More importantly, you didn’t recognize anything around you.

“Lads?” you asked.

No response, everyone was in their own little world.

“Guys?”

Nothing, but Freddie let his face fall against your neck and mumbled something that sounded like “What?”

“Are we going the wrong way?”

Brian was the one to stop dead, so fast that Roger smacked straight into his back. “This isn’t where the van is.”

“No,” you said slowly. “I think it’s back the way we came. I think, at least.”

Had Brian been sober, you figured he would have led the charge back the other way. But drunk Brian was easier to panic, and panic he did, dropping to sit on the nearest curb.

“How’re we going to get back? I don’t know where we are, and if you don’t know where we are,” he threw up his arms in apparent frustration. “Then we’re done for.”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, and tried to swing John and Freddie with you to a payphone on the other side of the road. “How about I call the driver, hm? Maybe he can just drive and find us.”

“Y’mean me?” the crew member that usually drove popped out from behind Crystal, nearly tripping as he did.

“Oh for pity’s sake,” you muttered. “Did you all forget we have to drive to Kalamazoo before the morning?”

Mentioning the next city’s name was a mistake, because it utterly destroyed them.

“What a stupid fucking name,” Roger laughed, slipping to sit down by Brian. “Like kazoo. Or harmonica. I’m going to name a city Timpani.”

“You’re going to buy a city just for that?” Brian asked.

Roger shrugged. “What better reason to buy one?”

“Property taxes,” John said decisively, earning another round of laughter, but as far as you could tell he was deadly serious.

“Okay,” you said. “I technically have a license. I’ve never driven a van, or much at all, but I can do this.”

Only Freddie seemed to glom onto what you were going to do. “Are you going to leave us here, and go get it?”

“Don’t have a lot of other choice, love,” you replied, and helped him and John to the curb. “Just stay put, make sure no one is sick all over themselves, and soon enough we’ll have you on the van, alright?”

“I should come with you,” Freddie insisted, struggling to his feet. “I’ve only had...I didn’t count the drinks, but that’s fine. You can drive, I’ll just help you drive well.”

“Freddie, you don’t know how to drive at all!” Roger called.

“Well, technically I don’t either,” you admitted. “I mean, my granddad bribed the instructor to pass me...and I have been in a car, behind the wheel before...for an afternoon, at least...”

You looked down at the sensation of John’s hand on your leg.

“I believe in you,” he said, again so serious you would have thought this matter was life-or-death. “Bring us our ugly fucking van.”

“It isn’t that bad, John,” you sighed. “You’ve got to forgive yourself for that, my man. You really do.”

You left them then, Freddie stumbling along beside you, and pondered exactly how different a van might be compared to a car, and hoped to god it wasn’t a stick.

“Driving is overrated,” he mumbled as you took him by the arm, keeping him close so he wouldn’t get lost in the small crowds on the sidewalk. “But flying is expensive. How do people get around in this country?”

“You drive, or you find the money to fly, or you hope there’s a train or subway in your area,” you replied. “Or in my case, you walk when you can, and are incredibly thankful and kind to those who provide you with rides when you need them.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “That’s why your thighs are so big. I mean I like that, that they are. But it’s the walking. Lots of muscle. Good thighs, those. I wish we had a hotel room tonight, so I could appreciate them properly.”

You blushed, grateful that the people out and about didn’t seem to give a shit about the two of you wandering, and Freddie speaking less than quietly, though you didn’t think he was aware of that in his current state. “Maybe once you’ve sobered up, hm? If we make it to Kalamazoo on time, and all.”

He nodded, only to suddenly dash away from you as you approached the venue, lurching towards the van.

“Please be careful!” you called, patting yourself down for the van keys.

The keys that were not in any of your pockets.

Because they were with the driver, back many streets away.

“Freddie,” you said softly as you watched him struggle with the van door. “Have you ever picked a lock?”

----

“We owe Roger one,” Freddie sighed as you finally clambered into the van. “I’ve never been so glad he liked breaking into my hotel rooms.”

Roger’s method, at least part of it taught to Freddie, had been enough to crack the lock and let you in. As a bonus, it has also sobered Freddie up a decent amount.

He settled into the passenger seat and watched you sit behind the wheel. “So. You have driven before, at least once?”

You nodded. “It didn’t go great, but I have.”

He nodded slowly, matching your nods, as if that would somehow make the van go on its own, as the two of you stared at the steering wheel. “By didn’t go great...”

“I was supposed to do a three point turn on a really narrow dirt road, and sort of ended up more in the ditch than on the road. My granddad had to help me get it back on the road, yelling the whole time, it was horrid, honestly.”

“Can sort of see why you don’t drive more, knowing that,” Freddie said. “But you’ve got this.”

You sighed, and then realized that, without the keys, the van would not go anywhere. “Oh fucking hell.”

Freddie fumbled with the glove compartment, and tossed an extra set of keys to you. “Thank god we paid extra for those. Never thought we’d need them, but here we are.”

Getting out of the lot was easy enough; it was a big open area with no other vehicles in it at the time.

Detroit traffic, however, was a different beast.

“I literally would kill to be doing anything else,” you muttered.

“As long as it isn’t me you would kill,” Freddie chuckled. “But I get it, this is...not great. Let’s not say bad.”

But it was bad. You crept forward as much as you could manage, only to get not a single spot you were fast enough to drive into so you could join the traffic.

“Maybe you’re overthinking it,” Freddie said gently. “I don’t know that this is really right, but next time you see an opening, just gun it? I suppose?”

“Anything is better than sitting here,” you replied, and the next chance you got, you took.

Thankfully, it seemed Detroit drivers weren’t unused to sloppy driving. Sure, ninety percent of them were flipping you off, but you were in your lane, obeying the speed limit, and braking with enough room (maybe too much, at a few stops, but you preferred that to accidentally hitting anyone.)

Even so, you had to nearly ask Freddie to pry your white-knuckled hands off the steering wheel once you’d reached the rest of your group and parked in the lot of the bar nearest to them.

“Are you good to drive?” you asked the driver as he led the rest over.

“Sure,” he replied, while you watched everyone else make their way into the van.

“No, really,” you said. “Traffic is terrible here, if you aren’t sober enough, then we need to wait.”

He muttered something under his breath, too low for you to hear, but nodded. “Fine. We’ll be close on time, but we’ll see if we can sleep it off here for a bit.”

You headed for the van, only to dash away as John came running back out of it, making it a good few feet away before he lost his stomach over the pavement.

“I told you it would be the interior,” he said, as he tried to wave away your hands.

“Let me at least help you up,” you insisted, and it was a relief when he let you grab him and carefully pull him up. You managed a quick wave to Freddie, who watched as you helped John back onto the van.

He looked tired, and like the beginnings of a hangover were starting to claw at him, but he smiled as he looked on, and that made the whole situation better.

Though you were still incredibly glad you wouldn’t have to drive the van to Kalamazoo yourself. The streets of Detroit had been more than enough, thank you very much.

#text post #LeeH writes #Queen band fic #freddie mercury x reader #freddie mercury x male reader

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ddproductionsw77 · 5 years ago

Text

Whatever You Want

Fandom: IT (Muschietti Films)

Pairing(s): Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak), Stenbrough (Stan Uris x Bill Denbrough)

Characters: (Major) Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, (Minor) Stan Uris, Bill Denbrough, (Mentioned) Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Sonia Kaspbrak

Rating: T (Unless language offends you, then it’s M)

Description: Eddie is sick with the flu but there is no way he is going to compromise getting Richie sick or worrying him… Not when Richie has about a million other things going on outside of Eddie and Eddie knows it.

Author’s Note: Inspired by an idea of foulwitchqueen on Tumblr for Eddie being sick and not wanting to bug Richie when he’s super busy.

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Richie Tozier was fucking exhausted.

He was pretty sure he’d never been as busy in his fucking life as he was now. To be fair, he’d done it to himself. He didn’t let himself want too many things as a general rule. He’d been conditioned by a childhood of disappointment to not try too hard at anything; it was how he’d barely skated through high school and how he managed to get into college.

The only thing he could remember ever really wanting and trying for was Eddie but that was something completely different.

The point was in his sophomore year of college he found himself... wanting again.

He could blame his GE requirements or he could blame the fliers up in the quad or a million other things but really, he’d done it to himself. One communications class as an undecided freshman and he’d been hooked. It had been the first class he could ever remember actually buckling down in and he’d done well, really well actually. So he’d taken a few more classes second semester and declared a communication major at the start of sophomore year. And when he’s seen the audition flyers in the quad for a campus radio personality, simple disc jockeying... he’d gone for it and he’d gotten it.

The problem was now he was nearly three fourths through the year, taking and maintaining 18 credit hours and running the 4pm to 9pm slot of the campus radio, queuing music and doing some of his impressions between cramming for his midterms next week. Not to mention actively dating and living with his boyfriend and regularly meeting up with and seeing his friends... he was just so fucking exhausted.

Getting home, Richie tossed his keys on the little table next to the door Eddie had gotten for them to put their shoes under and rubbed the back of his neck. Dropping his backpack down beside the same table, he made his way to the kitchen and glanced at the clock on the stove. 9:47. Fucking typical.

Digging around, he found everything he needed for a sandwich and quickly threw one together, staving because he hadn’t eaten since noon. Taking his first bite, a thought occurred to him and he was actually surprised he was only now thinking it.

Where’s Eddie?

Usually, he’d stumble in close to 10 and he’d start making himself something to eat and before he could finish, Eddie would be padding out from the living room to scold him about eating a vegetable or some shit. But his favorite adorable little nuisance was nowhere to be found. Downing his sandwich in a few bites, Richie went off in search of his boyfriend.

He found him almost immediately.

Eddie was sprawled across the couch, the textbook for his Basic Nursing course open on the ground beneath him liked he’d been attempting to read it and couldn’t keep his eyes open. Richie smiled involuntarily at the pure cuteness of his boyfriend before he went to crouch down beside the couch, picking up the textbook and gently setting it on the coffee table before reaching over to run his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

Richie waited, expecting Eddie to groan and smack his hand away like he normally did but the boy only half mumbled something Richie couldn’t make out before snuggling himself up closer, leaning into Richie’s light touch as his breathing slowed again.

Confused, Richie glanced at the clock again, double checking it wasn’t later than he thought... Eddie never fell asleep this early. In fact, Eddie pretty much never fell asleep before Richie. He was always the last of the two of them to drift off and the first one to slip out of bed in the morning. He was a light sleeper, waking up every time Richie used the bathroom or a car alarm outside went off.

He was never this fucking out of it.

“Eddie,” Richie sighed, reaching out to wiggle the other’s ear, “Eds, baby, come on. You can’t sleep on this couch, it’s shit.”

Slowly, groggily, Eddie’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at his boyfriend, who was still lightly tugging on his ear. Reaching up, he shoved Richie’s hand away, “G’the fuckoff.”

“Come on, get your cute ass up so we can get you to bed. I don’t feel like carrying you bridal style tonight.” Richie smirked as Eddie groaned and ran a hand down his face, sitting up. “Textbook that boring, huh?”

Eddie looked up at him confused, “What?”

“It’s barely ten and you’re passed out and you usually find boring bullshit like this,” He lifted the nursing textbook from the coffee table, “Interesting,” He smirked at Eddie’s unamused glare, setting the book back down to stand and take his boyfriend’s hands, pulling him up beside him.

Eddie rolled his eyes, one corner of his mouth curling upward as he shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe I just didn’t sleep well last night. You sure as hell wouldn’t shut the fuck up.”

“You’re the one who forgot to get me more snoring strips,” Richie replied defensively.

Eddie shot him a look over his shoulder as he lead the way to their bedroom, “Nasal strips, dumbass. And you didn’t put them on the grocery list so no I didn’t forget them, I just didn’t fucking get them.”

Reaching the bedroom doorway, Richie reached out and carefully grasped Eddie’s wrist, tugging him back into his arms. Eddie easily fell into place there, putting up no fight. Softly, Richie asked, “How was your day?”

Eddie shrugged, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck, “Not my best but I’ll be fine. Yours?”

“Fucking exhausting and I missed you the whole damn time,” Richie whined into the hair on top of Eddie’s head.

Eddie sighed, sweeping his hands over Richie’s chest, “I missed you too,” He pulled back to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, “I’m just really ready go to bed.”

“What so we can get up and do the whole fucking thing again?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, slipping from Richie’s arms to do to his dresser and change into pajamas, “That’s life, babe.”

“Our life,” Richie managed an exhausted smile as he watched Eddie from the doorway. It’d been years now since Eddie had worried about being naked in front of him.

Throwing on a long AC/DC t-shirt and boxers, Eddie turned to his boyfriend and gave him an exaggerated look, “Our life, yes.”

“Together,”

“Together, now shut the fuck up and come to bed, you sappy dipshit.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Eddie woke up, his head pounding, body aching and the bed empty beside him. Groaning, he covered his eyes and rolled over, gripping the comforter closer as a chill ran through his body. Taking a deep breath in, he swallowed and his heart sank.

It hurt to swallow.

Bolting up in bed, Eddie swung his feet over the side of the bed and immediately regretted it, spots appearing in his vision as his head throbbed. Hissing, he clutched his forehead and used his other hand to steady himself, “Fuck!”

After a moment of adjustment, he attempted to get up again while breathing in and out slowly and purposely. As he tried, he found himself forced to cough and pause to make sure he didn’t make himself sick. Shaking his head, he grimaced the whole way to the bathroom down the hall, muttering, “Shit, shit, shit!”

Pulling open the mirror medicine cabinet, he grabbed their thermometer and carefully put on one of the protective plastic sleeves before sticking it under his tongue. He knew for a fact Richie didn’t used the fucking covers and if he by some miracle didn’t have a fever, he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask for one…

He recognized the irony of being more than willing to stick his actual tongue in Richie’s mouth a beat later.

Once the thermometer beeped, he checked the results and groaned.

One—oh—fucking—two point nine.

“Shit,” He moaned miserably as his throat burned and head throbbed. Padding begrudgingly out of the bathroom, he went back to the bedroom and glanced at the clock next to Richie’s side. It was Friday, he didn’t have any classes on Fridays and he didn’t have to get to work at the Village Grocery for another two hours.

I just need a little more sleep, he thought already feeling drowsy again. His head hurt so much less when his eyes were closed. Just a little more sleep and then he’d be fine…

But an hour later when Eddie startled awake again, his—well, Richie’s—AC/DC shirt sticking to his back, he had to admit he might need more than just a little sleep. Bring a hand up to his cheek, he found it worryingly warm.

Yup, he was sick.

“Fuuuuck,” He groaned again, throwing his hand down on the mattress.

Coughing, he crawled across the bed and picked up the phone, quickly dialed his manager at The Village Grocery. Apologizing profusely, he called off work and started to lay back down before a thought struck him.

Fuck, what about Richie?

Sure, Eddie hated calling off work but one shift was manageable without getting fired. That wasn’t exactly true for Richie. The campus was filled with wannabe disc jockeys and Richie had been giving a three strike policy on his first day, three days off for any reason and he was fired. Not to mention if Richie got sick, he could possibly miss classes during fucking midterm week.

No way could any of that happen. First of all, they were barely making rent as was with his thirty-six hours and Richie’s twenty-five hours a week. It wasn’t like grocery stores and internships paid well. Second, if Richie got fired, they’d be basically forced to move in to some cheaper, even shittier place further away from campus, thus throughly screwing them even more. And third, Richie could possibly fail a whole course if he missed a midterm or a due date.

So, no way that could fucking happen.

Picking up the phone again, Eddie called the only person he could think of at that moment to help.

_______________________________________________________________________

Richie came home late again on Friday night, rolling his shoulders as he schlepped off his backpack and called out, “Spaghetti Man! Bev wants us all to go see this band she found. It’s gonna be fucking lame but I said we were—“

He paused, noticing a note left on the counter next to the fridge. Looking around, he went over and picked it up, eyebrows drawing together.

Richie—

Went to stay at Stan and Bill’s. Studying for midterms so no interruptions, okay, asshole?

Stay home and feed yourself, I’ll be back.

Eddie

P.S. By feed I mean BALANCED MEALS!

A small heart had been drawn beside Eddie’s name. I love you in his boyfriend’s written language.

The whole thing didn’t sit quite right with him. Eddie didn’t usually leave the apartment to study… actually his go to move for avoiding distractions at home was to lock himself in the bathroom and sit with his textbooks and notes in the empty tub. They’d argued about it a few times in the past.

Still, why would Eddie lie about studying? And why lie if he could easily be caught? All Richie would have to do was call the nausea-inducing Stenbrough train and ask if his precious little Eddie Spaghetti was there. Which, he told himself rather firmly, he wasn’t going to do.

He trusted Eddie. If Eddie said he was subjecting himself to Bill and Stan’s PDA so he could study then that was probably the truth.

Rolling his eyes, Richie set the note down and muttered, “Fucking dumb ass balanced meals bullshit…” He left the kitchen and went to change into something he cared about less to go and meet the others.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Drink,” Stan held out a glass of water to Eddie as the boy exited the bathroom, having just been sick for a fourth time since his arrival.

Eddie gave the glass a look of intimidation before shaking his head, “Give me another ten minutes.”

Stanley sighed, “If you get dehydrated, we’ll end up having to take you to the fucking hospital so which would you prefer, drinking this now or hydrating through an IV in a few hours?”

Glaring, Eddie took the glass and gingerly sipped its contents as Stan lead him back to the couch. He laid down and Stanley helped cover him in two layers of blankets, reaching out to feel his forehead, “Eddie, drinking or not, if your fever doesn’t break soon—“

“Shut up, Stanley!” Eddie groaned, “I just want to go back to sleep.”

“How you two doing?”

Stan looked over the back of the couch to see his live-in boyfriend had returned from his single Friday afternoon class. Meeting Bill’s eye, he made a face that meant nothing to Eddie, watching them from his spot on the cushions but obviously made sense to Bill because a second later the other boy said, “Eddie, have you taken your tuh—temperature in a while?”

“An hour ago, it'd gone up to 104.3,” Stan answered for Eddie, “He hasn’t let me take it since but I think he’s warmer.”

“Fucking snitch,” Eddie whined, burying his head down away from the light of the living room.

Bill shook his head, “Ignorance is not bliss, Eddie. Y—you more than anybody should want to know how sick you are.”

Eddie glared into the darkness beneath the covers, “It’s the fucking flu. It’s what everyone goddamn has right now. And I am training to be a registered nurse, you know. Being sick doesn’t scare me anymore!”

“But hospitals do,” Stan quipped, glancing between Bill and Eddie with his arms crossed over his chest, “Threaten to take him to a hospital and he’ll basically do whatever.”

“It is not the hospital!” Eddie shot back, tugging off the covers just to glare at Stan, “It’s…being an actual patient.”

“What does that even mean?” Stan asked, looking up at his boyfriend, silently asking if he knew.

Bill did know.

Bill and Eddie had been closer when they were younger, a lot closer. In fact, they’d been friends with each other before even becoming friends with Richie and Stan, even though only by a year. There were things about that that made their dynamic just different from the others. Richie and Stanley had a similar connection to each other; they just knew things that the others didn’t or got things before the others did.

Things like this.

Shifting on his feet, Bill sighed, “His muh—mom. Being a patient reminds him of his mom.”

After a moment, the explanation clicked for Stan and he suddenly couldn’t believe he hadn’t put two and two together before. Of course being locked up and plied with different prescription drugs would remind Eddie of his mother. She’d spent nearly thirteen years of his life doing exactly that to him before he’d figured out it was all bullshit.

Stan cringed and leaned over Eddie, “Hey, okay, no hospital but you have to let me take your temperature, deal? You can sleep a bit but when I ask, you have to do it.”

Eddie nodded mutely, eyes closed as he was already drifting back off.

Bill went over to his boyfriend, looking down at their sickly friend with his brow set in concern. Softly, he reached out and ran his fingertips along Stan’s arm, “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry too much.”

Stanley sighed and leaned into Bill’s touch, weaving their fingers together, “I know… he just worries so much about everyone and everything else. He needs someone to worry about him, at least a little.”

Bill laughed, tugging Stanley from the living room, “Usually Ri—Richie’s all over that. Where is he? You only said on the phone that Eddie was s—sick.”

“Yeah, well,” Stan sighed in minor annoyance, “He doesn’t want Richie to know he’s sick. Pretty stupid plan in my opinion, like those two don’t have some weird psychic connection between them, but whatever. I told him I wouldn’t say anything.”

Bill shrugged, “Well, it might be pointless anyway. Bev invited everyone out tonight; suh-someone’ll notice the three of us aren’t there.”

“He told Richie he was coming over here to cram for midterms next week,” Stan said, shaking his head. He leaned forward quickly to peck Bill’s lips before starting on dinner, “I feel like we’ll be seeing Richie sometime tomorrow with the whole thing figured out. As much as he acts like one, he’s not an idiot.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Richie woke up the next morning feeling about as exhausted as he had felt going to sleep, if not more. His whole fucking night had been nothing but tossing and turning. He wasn’t used to sleeping alone and when he did have to, it never went well. He couldn’t get comfortable without Eddie to snuggle or spoon and if he managed to fall asleep, he was more prone to nightmares when his better half was gone too.

Sitting up, he looked at the clock and smirked. It was getting close to noon and if Eddie were home, he’d have been telling Richie off right about then for potentially fucking up his sleep schedule.

Your day and night cycle are a delicate balance, genius. You screw with it and I promise you’ll fucking regret it, He could almost hear his boyfriend in his ear.

Speaking of his boyfriend… Noon, huh?

Eddie would be at work right then, would have started his shift at nine and only be about halfway through. Smirk widening, Richie got up and quickly got dressed, planning on paying his Eddie Spaghetti a little surprise visit.

The Village Grocery wasn’t far from the apartment, a stroke of pure luck honestly since Eddie’d had the job since before they’d moved in together. Richie could walk it relatively easily if New York traffic was agreeable. Slipping on his Chucks, he hopped out of the door, locking the place up behind him.

The walk only took fifteen to twenty minutes, Richie guessed. He didn’t wear a watch, usually just grabbing Eddie’s arm and using his when he needed one. When he made it to the front of the store, he paused looking through the glass sliding door. Eddie wasn’t at any of the registers. Generally, he usually just rung people up; only stocking or anything else if he was picking up someone else’s slack.

It was a small store, during the later hours only one or two employees would be present at a time and even at 12:30 Richie only saw three people in uniform when he went inside. Being blasted by a cold jet of air from the AC, he went over to the only vaguely familiar face he could find.

“How’s it hanging, Mary?” Richie asked, going to lean up against one of the empty check-out stations where a curvy, olive skinned girl stood.

Marisol turned to him, eyebrows coming together, “Better if it weren’t for your boyfriend.”

Marisol was the only employee remaining who’d been working at the store since Eddie started. They were casual work friends and she’d joined the Losers once or twice to hang out. She was nice enough and according to Eddie, was easy to kill time with.

Richie quirked an eyebrow, “Just the person I wanted to hear about! And where is he around here anyway?”

Mary stared at him for a moment, startled, “What do you mean ‘where is he’? I assumed home with you.”

“It’s Saturday,” Richie shrugged, tapping mindlessly on the divider between them, “He always works on Saturdays.”

“Except that he called in sick this Saturday,” Marisol said slowly, shaking her head, “Which is why you can tell him that he owes me big time for covering for him on a weekend shift.”

Richie stood for a moment, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on before starting to back away, “Right, sick… Cool, Mary, I’ll tell him, check you later!”

Leaving the store, Richie quickly haled a cab and headed toward Bill and Stan’s.

_______________________________________________________________________

Eddie awoke to a cool washcloth being placed carefully on his forehead. He hummed in relief, slowly pulling the stands of sleep away from his brain before slipping his eyes open. Richie’s hand slipped down from his forehead to his cheek, lightly pinching it as he smiled lightly, “Even flushed and feverish, you’re fucking adorable, Eds.”

“Whaddya doin’ here?” Eddie whined, “You’re suppose to stay away!”

Richie rolled his eyes, brushing Eddie’s sweaty hair back out of the way of the washcloth, “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you’re suppose to tell me shit like when you’re sick. Let’s call it even, huh?”

“I didn’t wanna get you sick…” Eddie mumbled, reaching up to put a hand over his eyes to block out the light of the room, “You’ll get fired and flunk outta school…”

Cocking his head, Richie let out a single laugh, “I think you’re blowing this a bit out of proportion, honey bunny. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to take care of you, sickness and in health and all that,” He shrugged, continuing to play with Eddie’s hair, “And if you’re gonna fucking bite it from the Black Plague, I wanna go out with you anyway.”

“It’s not the fucking Black Plague, dickwad,” Eddie pinched his nose, “It’s just the flu.”

Eddie heard only silence for a long moment.

“Eddie,” Richie said, his tone taking on a sincerity that Eddie knew he, and he alone, got to hear. Peaking out from under his eyelids, he hummed in acknowledgement. Richie continued, “Please don’t pull something like this again. Please just… talk to me next time?”

Eddie sighed, looking up at the ceiling as guilt filled his chest. Richie wasn’t exactly a please machine. He used the word about a sparingly as Eddie tended to used the L-O-V-E word. At least, in a non-joking manner. It was actually pretty fucking unfair because it meant that when he did drop it, it was fucking impossible to deny him whatever he was asking for.

Swallowing and cringing at the searing in his throat, Eddie nodded, “Okay.”

Richie let out a long breath and nodded, reaching out for Eddie’s hand to lace their fingers together.

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, all the air in his lungs seeming to evaporate as he took in the sight of his boyfriend lightly playing with his fingers and the way he was mindfully tracing patterns on the back of his hand. He realized suddenly Richie had been worried; that he was still worried.

He didn’t have to say so… with Richie silences tended to mean more than the words that the boy so often wasted on meaningless things and sometimes the only way to get an honest answer out of him was to watch his body language. Eddie read Richie better than anyone else, even when he was running a fever.

“Stan said my fever broke a couple hours ago,” He supplied, wanting nothing more in that moment than to stop Richie’s worrying. “It’s been going down… just takes time for the body to bounce back from high fevers. But I—I’m fine, Rich. Really.”

Richie glanced at their intertwined hands for a long moment before looking up and cracking his usually smirk, “Well, thank fuck for that because I can not afford rent with my broke ass alone.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and instantly regretted it when his head throbbed in protest and his stomach churned. He groaned, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand, “Richie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Take me home,” He whined, looking over at his boyfriend, “Stan and Bill’s couch is somehow fucking worse than ours.”

Richie laughed and nodded, squeezing Eddie’s hand back, “Whatever you want, Eddie, my love.”

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the-quiet-winds · 5 years ago

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You Clicked Your Heels and Wished for Me (part one)

i woke up in a cold sweat during the night and realized i didn’t queue up anything so here is me queuing today’s post 14 minutes before it goes live! woo!

this is another cowritten fic between me and @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts, because... reasons i guess?

trigger warning for blood, accidental harm

[Part 1: In Case I Lost My Train of Thought]

it’s not often that jane or katherine go away without the other, but on this particular occasion it happened. a historian got into contact with jane and asked for an interview, hoping it would help her in her new book all about edward vi, learning about the preparation for his birth. jane accepted, but the only problem was the historian lived in america. it was soon worked out with the theatre; jane would take a five-day trip to ohio, where the historian was based, and grace would cover her shows for the week. jane asks katherine if she wants to come with her but katherine, worried about the fan reaction to two queens being away for the whole week, decides she’ll be okay. after all, the regularity of her nightmares had reduced rapidly over the past few months, and jane promises to call every evening.

the first night after jane leaves, she is sure to call to check in, taking katherine she landed safe in ohio and is in a lovely hotel, and the first round of interviews was the following day.

katherine is delighted at the news, thankful to hear her mother’s voice. she’s okay, just in ohio, katherine tells herself.

that night, however, just before she goes to bed, she sees a news story about a terrorist in the united states being sentenced to execution, and the thought of execution in any sense brought a nightmare raging through her mind, seeing thomas and henry and a world where she didn’t have jane and she wakes up in a cold sweat.

it takes several moments for her to realise where she is; at home, in bed, hundreds of years away from those men. she takes a few deep breaths to try and stop herself from shaking, but her efforts prove in vain. after the fear and vulnerability, the emotion she’s most feeling is annoyance. everything had been going so well, and she was sure she’d be okay without jane, but her mum had been away for one night and katherine had already messed up.

as katherine becomes more lucid she notices a sharp, stinging pain on her neck. she grabs her phone and looks in the camera; she must have accidentally scratched herself in her sleep, because there was a single raised red line against her skin. it didn’t look too bad and would probably fade by the morning, but katherine grumbles at herself under her breath anyway. she lies back down and closes her eyes, trying her best to get some sleep. she has two shows tomorrow, after all.

she doesn’t get much more sleep that night, unfortunately. she slogs through the morning and the pre-show, then calls jane, who had promised that she’d have those times carved out for when katherine would call.

“kitty-kat?” she hums upon answering. katherine gives a tiny sigh of relief.

“hey mum,” she says, trying to sound as awake as she could. the crappy phone connection must have helped, because jane didn’t notice a thing.

the shows goes on without a hitch, including grace’s performance as jane.

katherine gets to her song and the final chorus sends her head racing, as always. her mind flashes back to the previous night, and one hand subconsciously reaches for her neck, where her choker begins to feel just a bit tight, and she claws at it, almost trying to break it.

her nails rake against her skin, much harder than they’d done in her sleep, but katherine doesn’t even notice, nor does she notice the stinging pain from the red lines drawn. it’s only when a hand grabs her wrist in part of the choreography that she lets go of her choker, but the emotions of the song are still charging through her, keeping her head in the slight haze it was always in at the end of her song. jane would normally be around to give her a reassuring look from off-stage when she finishes her song but jane wasn’t here, and katherine was alone.

there’s something weird about katherine’s headspace for the rest of the show, something not quite right. she catches the strange looks of concern the other girls give her and she’s not entirely sure why, until she gets backstage to the dressing room and glances in the mirror.

her neck is bright red. redder than the mark from her dream. redder than all of the warning signs she begins to see about where this could lead.

she doesn’t choose to ignore them, per say, but she doesn’t change her actions.

during that evening’s show, adrenaline courses through her blood during her number, coupled with jane’s absence until she’s reaching for the neck that was once separated from her shoulders and she’s clawing her way through another breakdown.

she knows jane wouldn’t want her doing this.

but jane isn’t here.

and katherine is very much alone.

the marks are even worse when katherine looks in the mirror this time, some of them even drawing tiny droplets of blood. she changes hurriedly and wraps a scarf around her neck, almost bumping into parr as she enters. parr gives her a concerned look.

“are you alright, kid?”

“i’m fine,” katherine nods quickly. parr regards her for a few seconds.

“how’s your neck?”

“fine,” katherine says again, eager for the conversation to be over. “it was an accident, that’s all.”

“once is an accident, kid, twice is a habit,” parr says gently. katherine feels a strange petulant annoyance rush through her. this was none of parr’s business, she thinks, even though she knows rationally parr is only worried about her and wants to help.

she bites back the retort on her tongue and tells a half-truth. “just had a bad dream last night, that’s all. i’ll be fine tomorrow.”

parr looks at her skeptically but relents, instead asking if katherine wants to check in with jane.

to her surprise and mystification, katherine says no.

“she’s probably busy,” katherine lies, “i’ll call her later.”

she does, though, shoot a text to jane. “shows went well. i’m dead tired and i’ll talk to you more tomorrow 💖,” read the text.

katherine tries her best to get an early night, after cleaning the scratches on her neck with a wince and some antiseptic. she manages it for a few hours, but then she’s thrown into another nightmare, this time of her last days locked in a tiny room. all the fear and pain comes rushing back, the terror that they’re going to mess up her beheading the way they did margaret pole’s, that instead of one quick swoop they’ll hack away at her. she wakes up with her sheets soaked in cold sweat and she desperately tries to catch her breath.

her neck stings, which isn’t surprising.

what does surprise her is parr’s light voice coming through the door.

“katherine? kid, can i come in?”

katherine, with a hint of annoyance, agrees.

parr comes in, dresses in her pajamas, looking concerned.

“i heard you thrashing around.”

katherine shrugs. “just another bad dream, that’s all.”

parr sits down on the edge of the bed. “these have been getting more frequent,” she observes. “what’s going on?”

“nothing,” katherine says, a bit too forcefully and a bit too quickly. “i’m fine.”

parr looks at her for a few moments, expression inscrutable. “you know, if you’d prefer to talk to jane about it then i’m sure she’d still be awake-”

“god, i’m fine!” katherine snaps. “i don’t need jane for everything, i’m not a child!”

there’s a few moments of silence and katherine flushes slightly, ashamed of her outburst. “sorry,” she mutters. “i’m just- a bit stressed, that’s all.”

“if you need a show off, i can talk to vicki, get her to cover for you,” parr starts, but katherine shakes her head.

“i’m okay. or, i will be, i promise.”

parr narrows her eyes slightly in disbelief, but doesn’t push her. instead she reaches out and puts a gentle and caring hand on her shoulder, patting once, then pulling back. “if you ever need to talk,” she says softly. “you know where i am.”

katherine gives a half-grateful smile. “thanks, parr.”

parr returns the smile. “of course, kid.” she stands up, gives her one last meaningful look, and exits the room, leaving katherine alone.

katherine doesn’t get much sleep for the rest of the night again. just as she thinks she might be about to doze off, her hand comes up to absentmindedly scratch at her neck, aggravating the sharp red lines already there. by the time morning comes, her neck is a mess of irritated raised skin and katherine physically winces as she looks at herself in the mirror. she couldn’t go down to breakfast looking like that, and so she grabs some concealer and tries her best to cover the marks on her neck.

each press of the makeup sponge makes her flinch, the concealer probably not mixing well with the angry skin.

she blends it the best she can without crying out in pain, until her neck looks fairly evenly toned.

she leaves her room and makes her way to the stairs, but freezes with her hand on the banister as she hears parr from downstairs.

“she hasn’t been sleeping,” katherine hears her say, presumably through the phone. “i don’t know what to do.”

there’s a pause.

“i understand, jane,” she says, “but she doesn’t want to talk.”

embarrassment and a touch of shame rushes through katherine. jane was meant to be enjoying herself, not worrying about katherine, especially over something as stupid as a couple of nightmares. she fixes a smile on her face and heads down the stairs as loudly as possible so parr could at least pretend she hadn’t been snitching on katherine. okay, that wasn’t fair of her, she chastises herself. parr wasn’t snitching, she was just worried. what katherine needed to do, then, was to remove the worry. she needed to seem like everything was fine.

she holds her head up to show her makeup-covered neck and looks as awake as possible by smiling at parr, then furrowing her brows and pointing at the phone in her hand.

‘jane,’ parr mouths, completely unaware katherine had been listening in. the younger girl nods. “can i speak to her?”

parr looks somewhat surprised, then hands over the phone.

“mum?” she asks. “how’s ohio?”

“kat,” jane says, sounding almost relieved. “it’s lovely, kat. dr harrison has been so nice. how’s everything at home?” she asks the last part slightly cautiously, and katherine knows what she’s getting at, but she decides to play it off.

“everything’s fine. i had a nightmare last night, but then parr came in and spoke to me, and i slept like a baby for the rest of the night.” she figures a half lie would be better; parr had no doubt told jane about the nightmare, so it was better to include it in her story.

“really?” jane asks, sounding slightly taken aback.

“yeah, i think i must have been tired,” katherine tries her best to sound nonchalant.”

jane gives a hum, one that doesn’t sound completely convinced but she doesn’t press on.

“well at least it’s only an evening show tonight, right?” jane asks.

they only talk for a few more minutes before jane has to hang up, saying something about needing to talk to doctor harrison. she says they’ll talk later and the line goes silent.

katherine sets the phone down, gives parr what could barely be called a glare, and retreats back upstairs.

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine parr #julie and jess write #you clicked your heels and wished for me

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tfrarepairing · 5 years ago

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TF Rare Pairing's Weekly Request Prompts for November 3, 2019

Hello everyone!

It's November, ohmygosh! Holiday crunch is starting now (not a joke if you work in retail like mod eerian, who has to be at work in two hours and has already been awake for five because of stress dreams about the store. -_- ) Treat employees kindly as you're out and about and enjoy the onslaught of festivities!

Between work, and trying to get there, I really don't have time to sit down and get the normal posts queued up for Tumblr like usual. So today, everyone gets one big master post (a trend that will probably last through all of November and December, and possibly January) with all the prompts at once. And the Trick or Treat challenge wrap up will come later this week!

Now, onto the prompts! Starting with G1!

Megatron / Inferno - weak

Prowl / Nightbird - reasonable

Sunstreaker / Shockwave - dump

Cosmos / Thundercracker - spy

Soundwave / Jazz - former

Next up, Cyberverse!

Optimus Prime / Windblade - various

Wheeljack / Grimlock - assign

Shockwave / Alpha Trion - surface

Soundwave / Perceptor - Hit Below the Belt

Shadow Striker / Blurr - murmur

Up third, Beast Wars & Beast Machines!

Airazor / Rattrap - confident

Cheetor / Optimus Primal - Hands down

Waspinator / Scorponok - homecoming

Rhinox / Dinobot - assign

Megatron / Inferno - ambition

Fourth, Bayverse/the Live Action Movie Franchise!

Perihelion / Bumblebee - continue

Ratchet / Sideswipe - flavour

Mirage (Dino) / Drift - Don't count your chickens before they hatch

Ironhide / Soundwave - precision

Optimus Prime / Jazz - automatic

And our final set of prompts is for the 2005-2018 run if IDW Comics.

Blurr / Swerve - offense

Ultra Magnus / Rodimus - improvements

Skywarp / Ratchet - afford

Axe / Megatron - admire

Getaway / Drift - win

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odinsonsobsessed · 5 years ago

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Beautifully Complicated || Chapter 14: Broken

A Tom Hiddleston x OFC Matchmaker AU series by @odinsonsobsessed and @mrshiddleston-uk

Kate Rees just wants some romance in her life, but she hasn’t had the most pleasant dating history. After yet another date gone wrong, she nearly gives up until her work colleague mentions a matchmaking website she’d seen an ad for. Little does she know, the mystery man she’s been matched with is handsome, rising star, Tom Hiddleston. And that’s when things get complicated.

Rated M (18+) || Word Count: 5.4k || Warnings: Swearing, NSFW

A/N: It's finally here!!! Chapter 14, which deals with post break-up feels on Kate's end. It's not going to be pretty, but wasn't that to be expected? As always, we appreciate your patience and we hope you enjoy!

You can also find us on AO3:

@odinsonsobsessed - Mischievousbellerina

@mrshiddleston-uk - Crimson_peak

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Kate walked away from Tom’s house, trying to hold in the large sob that was threatening to escape from her chest at any moment. She desperately fought the urge to turn around to see if he was watching her, but she knew that if he was, she wouldn't be strong enough to not run back to him. Back into his arms, back to the man she loved more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life. But Kate had to remain strong and stick with her decision, even though it already made her sick with regret. It's for the best.

She quickened her pace as she emerged onto the main road back to her flat, tears blurring her vision. It was then that she realised she was holding her breath. She exhaled a heavy, shaky breath, keeping her head down and blinking a few times to try and clear her sight. Perhaps she should have thought ahead and had a taxi on standby to take her home. She knew she was going to be a mess, but maybe she'd hoped to have it a bit more together than this.

A whole new wave of tears started to fall as Kate finally reached home and unlocked the main door to her building, beginning to climb the stairs. As she took the last few steps she scrubbed at her eyes, throwing herself off balance. She stumbled forwards, her knees and forearms hitting the hard concrete floor on the landing as she fell.

“For fuck's sake!” She hissed in pain as she picked herself up again, reaching across the floor for her keys which she’d dropped as she fell. Snatching them off the ground, she sat back on her heels and looked at her arms which were dirty and scuffed. Sighing, she sat down against the wall. “I’m such a fucking mess.” Kate stuttered, dropping her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, finally allowing herself to let go of all the emotions she’d been holding in over the last hour or so, as her cries echoed around the empty hallway.

Fourteen hours and thirty eight minutes. Fourteen heartbreaking hours and thirty eight miserable minutes ago, Kate had walked away from Tom and for most of the time since then she had been laying on her sofa. She had the same Spotify love song playlist on repeat, every song making her cry even more than the last time. She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t eat - damn, she didn’t even want alcohol. She just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole, putting her out of this misery that she only had herself to blame for.

What had she done? She'd just thrown away one of the best things she'd ever had - and for what? Charlotte. She let that nasty, selfish woman wedge herself between her and Tom, and she won.

It's not just Charlotte. She told herself, It's the schedule, too. The constant disappointment and longing when he was away or busy. The loneliness.

God, she was needy. It was a wonder he hadn't broken up with her first for that alone. Maybe she did him a favor. Maybe once he got past the initial shock and sadness that overtook those beautiful features when she had left him, he'd feel relieved. Free.

Her google search history ranged from Can you die from a broken heart? to Is it really possible to cry your eyes dry? and the answer to both was yes. So she was pretty sure that in a couple of days someone would find her dead on her sofa with big, bulgy dried out eyeballs.

Suddenly her phone alarm started chirping, scaring the life out of her and making her jump so hard that she fell off the sofa. “Jesus!" she cursed, grabbing blindly for her phone on the table as she still lay where she’d landed. Finally getting hold of the device, she held it at arms length in front of her as she tried to swipe the screen across to silence the infuriatingly annoying chimes. Losing her one handed grip on it, it slipped from her hand and hit her square on the forehead.

“Give me a fucking break!” She hissed, snatching it from her face and finally managing to make the noise stop. Yep, she was cranky. Sighing, she realised that her alarm meant she’d been awake all night and now she should be getting up to get ready for work. Crawling back into the sofa, she scrolled through her phone book and dialed Roxy's number. It rang quite a few times and Kate was about to give up when finally her friend picked up.

“Hey lady! I’m guessing you wanna grab breakfast before work? That’s the only reason you ever call me this early.”

“I can’t come in today, Rox." Kate's voice came out hoarse, her throat hurt from crying.

“Are you okay? Are you sick? You sound horrible.”

Kate had to take a breath and steady herself before she answered. Clearing her throat, she ignored the burning pain that lit the insides of her throat up. “I broke up with Tom.”

The line went silent and Kate pulled it away from her ear to check that the call was still connected.

“Roxy?” She questioned, wondering if she was still there.

“I’m here, I just… shit, Kate. What happened?" She paused, "This wasn't because of what I said, was it?" She could hear the guilt in Roxy's tone and she sighed.

“I… I can’t talk about it right now. I’m sorry Roxy. Not yet… and I can’t come to work today.”

“Are you okay though? I can come over after work?” Kate knew her friend was worried about her, but the thought of seeing anyone and having to talk about what had happened made her stomach turn. She just wasn't ready to face anyone yet.

“I’ll be okay, thanks. I just wanna be alone I think. I need to get my head together so I'm not a basket case during work.”

“Alright, well.. if you’re sure? Call me if you want anything, okay? And don’t worry about work, I’ll take care of it.

"Thanks Roxy.”

“Just promise you’ll call me if you need me, okay?”

“I promise. I’ll see you soon."

Kate hung up and stared blankly at her phone as she realised her screensaver was still the picture of her and Tom. Meaning to change it, she scrolled through her pictures, skipping quickly over any of Tom until she found one of her and Roxy making stupid faces into the camera. She saved it as her background picture and went back to Tom's. She lingered her gaze on her favorite picture of them, reminiscing over the memory of that particular day. Pain pierced through her heart and she went through, frantically selecting each of the pictures with Tom in them, with the intention of getting rid of them. Once they were all queued, her fingers hovered over the ‘delete’ button... but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, to erase another part of Tom from her life. She locked her phone and threw it down on the sofa next to her, as she lay back against the cushions and closed her eyes after throwing her arm over them.

Tom had loved her sofa. It was years old and pretty worn but every time he’d sat on it he would always make some sort of comment about how cozy and comfortable it was. Kate remembered how he used to stretch his legs out across it, taking up all the space so she would have to sit on his lap. Of course, she didn’t mind. But none of that mattered now, Tom would never sit on her sofa again, infact Tom would never be in her flat again. Her heart ached as the memories came flooding back. Their first kiss at her door step, their risky business in the taxi, their first time having sex…

Kate was sure she had cried her eyes dry, but more tears escaped, pouring out of the side of her eyes as she thought about the man that she loved. She had never loved anyone as much as she loved Tom and yet she had broken up with him. God, she missed him already and it hadn’t even been a whole day yet.

Kate didn't move much the entire day. She made herself eat a little bit and she tried watching some of her shows. She wanted to get lost in their drama instead of hers, but it only worked for so long. Finally about halfway through the day, she passed out from exhaustion, but she dreamed of Tom. She dreamt of him lying next to her in bed, his fingertips grazing her back as he gazed into her eyes. Sunlight shone across his cheekbones, highlighting their beautiful structure. His blue eyes were warm and full of love, her dream self felt so happy.

The doorbell ringing pulled her from her dream and she desperately fought to hold onto it. But she was unsuccessful, her eyes opening as she groaned. Who the hell was coming over unannounced? When she shook the fogginess from her head, her heart raced and she wondered if Tom had come. Was he here to beg her to change her mind? To tell her he couldn't live without her?

Kate got up and checked her appearance in the bathroom, gasping as she took in her red, puffy eyes and her extra messy messy-bun. She quickly threw water on her face, washing it and patting it with a towel. She brushed out her hair to make it more presentable before throwing it back up a bit neater this time. Kate made her way to the door and exhaled, mentally preparing herself. She flung the door open hopefully, but the person standing there wasn’t Tom.

“Zack?”

“Hey doll.” He smiled at her sympathetically, his tone soft and vigilant as he eyed her appearance. ”Roxy called me and told me what happened… She was worried about you and I’ve been trying to reach you all day."

She blinked, surprised to see him standing there. "I… my phone must've died…" She mumbled, trying to sort through her thoughts.

His voice was so calming and she felt a comfortable warmth envelope her as her best friend stood before her. Kate burst into tears again, relief, disappointment and sadness all mixing together. Zack stepped forwards and scooped her up into a hug, squeezing her tightly, closing the door behind him.

"Oh Zack…" Her voice came out in a squeaky tone as she tried to speak through her tears.

"Shhh, it's okay." Zack hushed her, stroking her hair and letting her cry for a few moments before pulling back. When his fingers ran over her arms, he looked down with wide eyes. "What happened to you, Kate?"

"I… fell yesterday on my way home…" Heat rushed through her cheeks and Zack frowned.

"And you didn't clean yourself up? Jesus Kate, come sit down." He guided her over to the couch and left the room, returning with a first aid kit and a wet cloth. He bent down on his knees and studied her arm, taking the washcloth and cleaning her up. "Always making me take care of you…" He held back a smile, shaking his head. The nurse in him was kicking in, he always did this when something happened. Always scolded her when she didn’t properly take care of a wound or did something dangerous to her health, like the time when she briefly picked up smoking. She tried to hide it from him because she knew what he’d say, but he caught her in the end and made her give it up.

"S-Sorry…" She sniffled, wiping her eyes with her free hand.

"And stop doing that or you're not gonna be able to see soon. They're so swollen." He lightly pressed the skin around her eyes. “I wish you’d take better care of yourself.” He murmured took his hand away, shifting to get some ointment and a bandage.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asked, busy at work with applying the cream to her scrapes.

Kate shrugged as she stared into her lap, “I needed some time and…” She sighed, “I’m okay.”

He paused, looking up at her. “No you’re not.”

After considering his words, she decided she couldn't fool him. He knew her too well. Kate shook her head “No, I’m not. I’m not okay and none of this is okay.”

Zack stared at her for a moment before looking back down at her arm and resumed fixing her up. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He placed the bandages on and set her arm down, looking back up at her. Avoiding eye contact, Kate picked absentmindedly at the bandages.

“Hey…” Zack encouraged.

She sighed again and finally met his eyes, “Charlotte won.”

Zack sat back on his knees and opened his mouth to say something but Kate held a hand up to silence him, “Don’t say it, ok? Don’t tell me I should have fought for him, because I couldn't fight anymore! I’m tired, Zack. I’m tired of this whole situation and I have no fight left. So yeah, Charlotte won. She got what she wanted and I lost the man I loved more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. It’s done, it’s over. It’s all gone.”

Abruptly, she got to her feet and stormed away to the kitchen, getting a glass from the cupboard and opening the fridge to take out a bottle of wine. As she reached for it, she hesitated and withdrew her hand, closing the door and going back to the other side of the kitchen where a bottle of whiskey stood on the side. Tom’s bottle of whiskey. She glared at it for a few seconds before quickly undoing the lid. Opening the cupboard, she replaced her wine glass for a smaller tumbler style glass and poured a shot of Whiskey into it, immediately downing it and exhaling as she refilled her glass.

“Kate.” Zack's voice came from the doorway

Without turning to face him she shook her head, “I’m exhausted, Zack. Emotionally and physically fucking exhausted. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t…” She trailed off as her voice broke and she started to cry again. Zack crossed the room quickly and turned her around, hugging her as she started to sob heavily,

“It’s okay, doll. Everything’s going to be alright, I promise."

“Is it?” Kate stuttered into his chest, “Because at the moment it doesn’t feel like it. It just hurts. It hurts so much that I can’t even think straight!"

Zack released her, gripping her shoulder gently so that he could look at her. “It’s gonna hurt for a while. And you’re gonna scream and shout and cry a whole lot more. But I’ll be here with you, and in between all that stuff, we can eat our body weight in junk food, drink alcohol, watch hours of Netflix and be social recluses until you’re ready to face the world again.”

He bent his knees so he was the same height as Kate and smiled at her “How does that sound?”

Biting her lip, Kate smiled back at him weakly and nodded “Thank you.”

Aside from running home to pack an overnight bag with a few needed essentials, Zack vowed to not leave her side the entire weekend. He was there through every break down, sat through every sappy movie Kate wanted to watch and he listened to her when she was finally ready to go into detail about what had happened the night that Kate decided to end things with Tom.

By Monday morning, Kate was up and showered, preparing to go to work. She had thought about taking an extra day off, but what was the point? She had her couple of days to get her head straight and she didn't really want to miss another day of work, since she had taken quite a bit of time off earlier in the year for her holiday with Tom.

It was all thanks to Zack for keeping her sane through this and she felt like she could get through her day without breaking down again.

He insisted on walking her to work, so they left a little early to grab some coffee from her favorite shop to perk herself up a little more. Kate grabbed one for Roxy and as she did, she began to feel anxious to see her. She needed her friends now more than ever and she felt really lucky to have one so dependable and another to be able to work with and see every day.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright? You're not going to call me from Pizza Express again, are you?" He hadn't meant that as a jab at Kate, and she knew that. His look of concern was genuine and she appreciated how accommodating he was being, having moved his work schedule around for her without her even having to ask.

She gave him a smile after she finished a sip of her coffee as they walked along the sidewalk, approaching the museum. "I'll be fine."

"I can come see you at lunch?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I'll be okay Zack, I'm going to have lunch with Roxy. I'm sure she'll want to chat about everything. I've barely talked to her all weekend and I feel awful, I know she was just trying to look out for me."

"Alright, if you're sure… but I'm only a phone call or text away!"

Kate turned toward him, throwing an arm around him, "Thank you for everything this weekend. Really, I appreciate it."

Zack nodded and returned her hug. "I'd do anything for you, Kate, you know that."

Kate smiled, "Will you come over tonight for dinner? I'll make you something."

He squinted his eyes, "No more sappy kissing movies and we have a deal."

She laughed, "Deal."

Kate walked into the museum with her head held high after she'd parted ways with Zack outside. She was determined in trying to have a decent day at work and not think about Tom. Well, aside from the talk Roxy was going to want to have and she couldn't blame her, she'd given her hardly anything when they'd spoke the day Kate had called off.

When she walked into the office, she found Roxy already hard at work on her computer, so she simply dropped the cup off on her desk and went to go sit down at her own.

"Hey." Roxy stopped typing and cautiously watched her sit.

"Hey Rox." Kate set her bag down and booted up her computer.

"How's it going?"

Kate swallowed back the lump forming in her throat and she sighed, realizing she was already beginning to get emotional. "It's going… I feel a little better than I did the other day, but not much."

Roxy shot her a sympathetic look. "It's going to take time. Time and… lots of wine."

Kate let out a shaky laugh, trying to hold herself together. "Already got that covered." She forced a grin and Roxy laughed along with her.

"But seriously though, you're going to get through this. Especially when you have friends like me and Zack. There will be other guys, Kate. I know it sucks now, but you'll find someone even better than Tom and you won't even think twice about him!"

Kate's chest tightened at the thought of having to date again, to move on from Tom and be with somebody else. "I highly doubt that… I-" She shook her head, holding back the tears that were pricking her eyes. "I don't know if I'll ever get over him. I just… I know that it was only a few months, but it felt real Rox. Like sure, we had a lot of amazing sex and it was fun, but it was more than that, it was special, like nothing I’ve ever had with anyone else before. He was the first person I’ve ever imagined a future with." She paused to sigh before continuing “Maybe if we’d met in a different time and place, under different circumstances, we could have had a future. But here and now, no matter how much I loved him, it was too complicated. I couldn’t be the person he needed and deserved."

Roxy reached across her desk and put her hand on Kate's. "It's still early, Kate. I know that it hurts and I can understand you're feeling that way, but it'll be okay."

"I know…" Kate grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes that were damp with unshed tears. "Right now, I just miss him so much. At times like these, whenever I was feeling down or upset about something, I could just call him and it's like his voice alone made everything better."

Roxy stroked the back of her hand comfortingly as she listened, nodding in acknowledgement. "It's okay. You have me and Zack, okay? I know we're not Tom, but we're here for you Kate. Any time."

Kate nodded, sniffling. God, this is exactly what she wanted to avoid. She did not plan on crying over this today. "I know Roxy and I appreciate it."

Roxy proceeded to calm her down for a few more minutes before they had to get to work on their upcoming project. It was just what Kate needed, to throw herself into something to be able to forget about Tom even for just a little while. Work ran late and she quickly texted Zack to let him know she was on her way home as she headed out of the office, but he was already standing outside of the museum waiting for her.

For the next two weeks Zack stayed with Kate at her flat, and every morning he would walk her to work on his way to his shift at the hospital, and every night when he finished he would come back to the museum and meet her so they could travel home together. Kate didn’t think she could ever thank him enough for how much he’d done for her and how he’s been there for her since she’d split up with Tom, and she was pretty sure she would have gone crazy if she’d been in her flat alone for the last couple of weeks. Some evenings her and Zack barely spoke, they just chilled on the sofa watching tv, but just knowing Zack was there if she needed him was reassuring enough, like he was her safety blanket.

There was one evening that Zack had some errands to run on his way home and wouldn’t be passing the museum to meet Kate after work, so he told her not to wait up and he'd meet her at her flat.

“You gonna be okay getting home without Zack?” Roxy asked as Kate pulled on her jacket and switched her computer monitor off.

“I’ll be fine, Rox." Kate reassured her with a smile.

She gave her a casual wave goodbye and made her way down the corridors and out of the museum onto the street. She stopped briefly to pull her EarPods out of her bag, sliding them into her ears and starting one of her more upbeat playlists for the walk to the tube.

As she got on, she thought about what her and Zack could have for dinner later on. She'd forgotten to check what she had back at the flat to make, so she might need to run to the store if she didn't have anything sufficient. Deep in thought, Kate stepped off when the tube reached her stop after nearly missing it. There were a lot of people getting on and off, which was normal for rush hour, so she just weaved in and out of people.

Suddenly, she caught sight of the back of someone extremely familiar. Her heart quickened in her chest and before she knew it, she was rushing after them, shoving past the crowds of people to catch up.

"Tom!"

How could he be here? Of all the places and times, he was-

Kate reached her hand up to touch his arm, but when he turned to look at her with confusion on his features, her stomach dropped. It wasn't Tom.

"Sorry, I-I thought you were…" She stuttered and ran past him, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Was she really expecting it to be Tom? She felt so silly for even thinking that it was him, that she was hoping it was. It was for the best that it wasn't him... So why was she so disappointed?

Once Kate left the station, she rounded a corner and collapsed onto a nearby bench. She hunched over and dropped her head in her hands while taking a couple of deep breaths. She could not break down here. After taking a few minutes to compose herself, she started for her flat. Tears slipped down her cheeks the entire way home, unable to do anything but cry as her heart ached for Tom. Would it always hurt like this? Would it ever get any easier?

She shoved her key into the lock when she arrived at her flat and let herself in. When she shut the door, she began to take off her shoes and heard footsteps approaching. As Kate slipped off both shoes, she looked up to see a concerned Zack.

"Kate? What's the matter?"

Instead of answering, she just shook her head and stepped forward, burying her face into his chest and wrapping her arms around him. She began to cry, both out of relief to see him here already and out of sadness.

Without hesitation, Zack slid his arms around her and stroked her hair soothingly until she began to calm down. He pulled back and swiped his thumbs across her cheeks to rid of the tears on her face. "C'mon."

He slid his arm around her shoulders and guided her over to the couch, urging her to sit. He draped his arm over the back of the couch and waited for her to start talking.

"I thought I saw him." She began, unable to look at him as she confessed what she'd just done. "There was a crowd of people at the station, I thought Tom was there and I just… I went for it. Without even thinking, I rushed after him. Only it wasn't him." She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. "What did I think was going to happen if it were? I…" Her voice cracked.

"It's okay…" Zack reached over to rub her arm comfortingly as he gazed at her with sympathy.

Kate shook her head, "It's not. It's not okay. I'm not okay."

Zack pulled her into another hug and Kate wrapped her arms around him, welcoming the embrace. It felt so good to be in his arms, it was so soothing and she felt so safe. He was always there for her no matter what.

"I was so stupid, Zack." She mumbled into his chest as he stroked her back.

He pulled back slightly with a soft expression, "You're not stupid. You're so smart, Kate. I think you're sweet and genuine, and you've got a big heart."

"Then why hasn't he called, Zack? I tried not to let it bother me, but it's been two weeks since I walked out that door and he hasn't once tried to reach me! I mean, I'm not expecting him to come and sweep me off my feet, but… doesn't he want me back? Doesn't he care?" Her eyes were watering again and she desperately tried holding it in. Her chest tightened up again at the thought that Tom didn't care enough to at least try to talk to her. She was torn between not wanting to be swayed into getting back together with him and being disappointed that he didn't even try. Kate thought she would go crazy, her mind tugging her in both directions until Zack brushed her hair back from her face, the sudden tender gesture distracting her from the torment going on inside.

"I can't speak for him, I don't know what he's thinking. But what I do know, is that he's an idiot for letting you go so easily."

For a brief moment, Zack's words melted her heart and caused a temporary lack of judgment. It felt so nice to have someone care for her that it tugged on her heartstrings and before she knew it, she found herself stepping over a line she had no business crossing.

Kate closed the distance between them, her lips brushing over his. It was light, tentative at first, until Zack cupped her face and began to kiss her more firmly. His lips were soft and warm, his breath hot and pulling her in further. She was getting lost in kissing him as his tongue demanded entrance, sweeping across her bottom lip. Kate parted them, allowing him to explore her mouth, to brush his tongue against hers. Zack slid a hand to her back and she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her hands rubbed just underneath the collar of his shirt while he ventured his own under the hem of her top, sliding them up and down her back.

While kissing Zack felt good, it didn’t feel right. His touch didn’t light her body on fire like Tom’s did. She didn’t ache for him like she ached for Tom the moment his lips collided with hers. He wasn’t Tom.

“Kate…” Zack’s breathless utter of her name between kisses brought her back to reality. “I-...”

Kate pulled back with a gasp once she realized what she was doing. Zack was her best friend! She should not be sitting here right now with his tongue halfway down her throat! She looked at him with wide eyes, mortified that she even went down this path. Oh god, what he must think of her, suddenly attacking him like that!

“Zack, I…” She placed her hand over her mouth to steady her thoughts. When she pulled it away, she started spewing out her apologies. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” She scooted backward to give them space and Zack stared at her, his chest heaving. “I’m sorry.”

“Kate, Kate… It’s okay.” He grabbed for her hands, but she pulled them away as she shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I lost my head for a moment and I guess I was craving closeness with someone and I just…” She exhaled deeply and gave him an awkward laugh. “I just miss Tom so much, you know? It was stupid of me and I totally regret it. Forgive me?”

Zack studied her face with an unreadable expression before looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay, really.” His eyes met hers once more and he forced a smile. “We can just forget about it…” Suddenly he grinned, any trace of discomfort gone from his face. “Although, I thought it was pretty great.” His tone sounded a bit off, but Kate brushed it off.

She cracked a smile, “It was, wasn’t it?”

Zack laughed for a moment before clearing his throat. “Anyway, um… If we’re going to eat, I should run to the store, because you have like, no food.”

Kate frowned, “I don’t? Shoot, I can go, I-”

“Don’t worry about it. I have to grab a couple of things for myself anyway. I’ll go.” Zack jumped up and grabbed his keys off of the table. “Be back soon!” He called, making his way out of the flat.

The moment the door closed behind him, Kate blew out a breath and flopped onto her back. What the hell was that? Kissing Zack? What was wrong with her? She almost just wrecked her long time friendship with her best friend all because she missed her ex-boyfriend.

He’d been spending so much time with her lately and taking such good care of her, she just… She thought that’s what she needed, but it was only confusing her. Zack being there all of the time was making her much too dependent on him and maybe it was time for him to take a step back and go home. He’d picked up all of the pieces of her broken heart, now it was time for her to begin to glue them back together. That was not his job and she couldn’t believe she let it go this far.

God, what a mess.

@fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @igotloki @nikkalia @manager-of-mischief @spidey-bites @dangertoozmanykids101 @xxloki81xx @furstinnajoelle @just-the-hiddles @wholelottatiffy @libbymouse @kitsuneharo12 @michelegurl @I-cant-remember-my-old-login @thathedonistgirl @vethrvolnir2 @fairlightswiftly @jessiejunebug @ihthr @devilbat @exbandragirl @joyofbebbanburg @sabine-leo @mandapanda8 @officiallyunofficialperson @wolfsmom1 @littlefrogstuff @writingmi @drakesfiance @scorpionchild81 @little-moonbeam–666 @canadianjelly @originalsoulcollector @gorgeous1974 @teylacarter91

#beautifully complicated #tom hiddleston/ofc #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 years ago

Text

Forgotten Alliance Ch 34

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x OC with other parings mentioned throughout.

Word Count: 6.9K

Warnings: Canon Typical things

Author’s Note: As a reminder, FA can be found on ffnet up to chapter 42. I am uploading chapters here on tumblr for convenience. I decided against tagging this until new chapters are posted. If you would like to be tagged please let me know! Chapters are queued and will be posted randomly. Enjoy

"Are we even close yet?" Malakai asked from the backseat of the SUV. He had been hitting the back of his head on the head rest the last few minutes. Being completely in the dark about where they were going was annoying to Malakai. Not to mention he was already tired of having the blindfold on his face for so long.

"I swear Kai, the next time you ask that you can find your own way back to New Orleans." Elizabeth said shaking her head as she kept her eyes on the road in front of her.

It had been several hours since they left New Orleans. Each text from Hayley brought them closer to being there. But because of Elizabeth wanting to make sure they weren't being followed, she'd make unnecessary detours before going where she needed to go. It of course made both Malakai and Mary irritable to say the least.

They did stop a few times for food and restroom breaks. It gave them time to stretch out and give themselves a few minutes away from each other. There was a bit of tension throughout the car ride. Conversation between Elizabeth and Mary held more arguments than normal conversations. It always ended up being over the same things. Elizabeth was just glad that the next text she'd be receiving from Hayley would be the last one. She wasn't sure how much longer she could handle being in the car with the woman without wanting to sink her fangs into the woman.

"We've been in this car for longer than I wish to be." Malakai complained as he continued to hit the back of his head repeatedly on the head rest.

"You are such a child." Elizabeth said shaking her head. "You were in a coffin for close to a century. This car ride doesn't even compare to that."

"You haven't been in that situation before. I hate being in one spot for too long now." Malakai said with a shake of his head. It caused Elizabeth to hold back a laugh. It was entertaining to see him with a blindfold on.

"This just proves another reason why we wouldn't be in this mess if Klaus had been killed centuries ago." Mary said and it caused both Elizabeth and Malakai to groan.

"Haven't we've been over this a million times today?" Malakai asked annoyed.

Hearing her phone go off, Elizabeth sighed in relief. "Thank God." She said before reading it and following the directions. "We'll be there in at least ten minutes."

"Can the blindfolds come off or are you determined to keep us blind until we arrive?" Mary asked looking over in Elizabeth's direction.

Elizabeth sighed. "You can take them off." She said with a nod even though they couldn't see it. Elizabeth watched as they quickly pulled them off.

"Where the hell are we?" Malakai asked as he looked around. They were on a road surrounded by hills and trees.

"The point was to not know where you are." Elizabeth said rolling her eyes as she turned down a street.

"It looks secluded enough." Mary said with a nod as she looked out the window.

"And we won't know we are there until after we pass the cloaking spell." Elizabeth said keeping her eyes on the road knowing that it was coming up based on Hayley's text.

"How will we know that we've passed it?" Malakai asked. His face was practically glued to the window looking for any sign of the cloaking spell.

"We'll know." Elizabeth said with a nod before she took an off road path. Moments later, a house that wasn't in view before sat in front of them.

"What witch did she get to do that?" Malakai asked as he looked at the house.

"A local one, I'm assuming." Elizabeth said as she pulled up in front of the house. A familiar feeling of warmth filled her and a smile grew on her face. The bond was recognizing she was close to Elijah. It was a feeling she truly missed.

The moment the car was shut off, she saw the front door begin to open. She was out of the car before Hope even had a chance to make down the front steps.

"Liz!" Hope's voice was filled with excitement as she ran straight for Elizabeth.

"Look at you!" Elizabeth said as she picked up the girl the moment she was in reach. "Are you sure you are only going to be four?"

"Yes!" Hope said as she hugged Elizabeth tightly. The hug was something they both needed.

"She's been staring out the window waiting for you guys to pull up." Hayley said from standing on the porch. "The question of 'When will they be here' played on a continuous loop."

"That's a whole lot better than the 'Are we there yet?' question." Elizabeth said giving Hayley a smile.

"Can we go visit Uncle Elijah now?" Hope asked trying to get Elizabeth's attention again.

"That's the best idea I've heard all day." Elizabeth said with a grin before kissing Hopes cheek.

"Visit?" Mary asked looking between Elizabeth and Hayley.

"Hope and Elizabeth can visit the Mikaelsons in the spell." Hayley said as she walked over to them. "They are each other's loophole to the spell." Mary wasn't sure how to react to that. She had just assumed that the Mikaelsons were in a spell and that was why Hayley had taken them to hide them. She knew nothing about them being able to visit. "Why don't we go inside and I'll explain everything." Hayley said giving Mary a smile.

"What about me?" Malakai asked.

Elizabeth looked over at him. "You can unload the trunk full of gifts." She said giving him a smile.

Hayley's eyes widened. "A trunk full?"

"What?" Elizabeth said with a shrug. "She said she was lacking toys, I helped with that problem."

"When can I open them?" Hope asked excitedly.

"On your birthday." Both Hayley and Elizabeth said at the same time.

A small pout formed on Hope's lip at the answer. "Hey, we are about to go visit our family. That's going to be enough excitement for the day." Elizabeth said as she walked towards the door. "Now," she placed Hope down. "you're going to have to show me where they are."

A smile grew on Hope's face at the words. She took Elizabeth's hand and began leading her to where Hayley had placed them in their new temporary home.

Bickering could be heard from anywhere in the house. At this exact moment, Rebekah and Kol were once again going at each other for the simplest things. It left Elijah and Freya to either just let them continue to get it out of their systems or to stop it before it got out of hand. While Freya was almost positive injuries weren't sustainable here in the dream world, she wasn't going to risk having her family tear each other apart.

Elijah had been sitting in an armchair trying to read a book that he had read so many times before. But with all the noise coming from his siblings, he couldn't even get passed the first few sentences of the page. He rolled his eyes before looking up from the book.

"Would you two kindly take that elsewhere?" His voice was loud enough that it had stopped both Rebekah and Kol mid yell. They looked over at Elijah for a moment in shock. Instead of leaving, they stopped their bickering and went to separate rooms.

"Ah," Freya said with a smile from her spot on the love seat. "Silence I can finally enjoy."

"If we weren't confined to this spell, I'm sure they'd be on two different sides of the world by now." Elijah said shaking his head.

"At least we can't kill each other in here." Freya said with a nod. "Or else they would have killed each other by now."

"No one has tested that theory. And I plan to see to it no one does." Elijah said bringing the book up to attempt to read it without interruption. He only managed to get halfway through the page when he began to feel bloodlust come over him. He could feel his features change at that moment.

Freya hadn't missed how the veins under Elijah's eyes made an appearance before fading. She was about to ask if something was going on when she felt the familiar feeling of a witch entering the spell. Her head turned towards the window as a smile grew on her face.

"They're here." she said as she quickly stood up and made her way towards the door.

Elijah, still confused by the hunger he had been feeling, stood up slowly and made his way towards the door. He'd known blood lust before but this, he knew wasn't his own. He had always been able to keep his under control. What he felt was a hunger that hadn't been satisfied at all. It was a feeling he was familiar with. He just wasn't expecting to feel that kind of hunger until after he was cured and awake. Elijah could only come up with one reason for it and it had to be Elizabeth.

Mixed in with the blood lust, Elijah could feel relief, happiness and a touch of worry. All emotions that were coming from Elizabeth the moment she came into the spell. Something he wished he'd be able to feel for some time now. To feel her presence in someway instead of nothing.

When he stood outside on the porch, he watched as Hope had ran straight for Freya. There was a huge grin on the girl's face. It caused a smile to grow on his own face as he watched Hope throw herself at Freya and not wanting to let go.

At the same time, he could feel Elizabeth watching him as she walked closer to them. When he looked over at her, she had a grin on her face. His own smile had grown into a grin just from seeing her. If it wasn't for the bond that was between them, he never would have guessed that she had been struggling with bloodlust. He would have thought she had everything together as best as she could. It was moments like this that he was thankful for the bond.

He watched as she walked passed Freya and Hope before climbing the few steps to reach him. When she did, they both seemed to feel the one thing she had been. At the same time, the veins under their eyes played on their skin for a moment before they were gone completely. It caused a small smirk to pull at Elijah's lips before he pulled her closer to him and wrap his arm tightly around her as his mouth descended on hers.

Elizabeth happily kissed him back as she wrapped her arms around Elijah's neck. Between the kiss and the way they held each other, it had been able to convey every word and every emotion they couldn't express the last few months. May it have been the bond between them or just the fact that they missed each other, they had no intention of letting the other out their sight during that visit.

"How about we give your aunt and uncle a moment alone while we go inside." The words had hardly registered passed Elizabeth's ears and she highly doubted that Elijah was paying attention to them either. Not with the way they were clinging to each other.

When Elijah finally pulled away from her, Elizabeth smiled looking up at him. "From now on I'm expecting a greeting like that every time I visit."

Elijah smiled down at her as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

A chuckle passed Elizabeth's lips hearing that. "I'll hold you to it."

"How are you feeling?" He asked running his hand along her cheek.

"I know you feel it." She said not wanting to say the words out loud. It was obvious when they both had watched as the veins under each other's eyes played for a moment.

"The better question to have asked is how are you handling it?" He asked giving her a small smile.

Elizabeth was surprised. She honestly had expected him to ask what caused it or how long it had been. But he was only asking her how she was taking care of it. She placed her hand on his cheek. "I'm getting there." She said with a nod. "I'm struggling a bit, but I'll be okay." She promised. She believed she would be. She was better than she had been in weeks. She was able tell herself that a blood bag a day was a lot better than having close to ten bags within hours of each other.

He placed his hand on top of hers before bringing her hand over to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand. "That is all that matters. As long as you are handling it, that is all I can ask for."

He did want to know more though. He wanted to know what had triggered it and to know what she was doing to help herself. But he had known from experience that pressing the matter in any way would push her to continue on with her bloodlust out of spite. Kol had been that way when Elijah had tried helping him with his bloodlust. In the end, Kol would only continue to do it no matter how many times Elijah had tried telling him to control himself. He needed to want to do it and a lot of the times Elijah and Klaus hadn't given Kol that option.

He wouldn't be doing the same with her. He wouldn't press her for the details that he was curious to know for fear it would just cause her to descend in her progress. He did not want to make things worse while she was here to visit him. He knew that there was that possibility that if he tried the same thing with her, she'd grow irritated and leave pissed off, searching for the drink her body thought it so desperately need. Elijah would hate himself for that. Especially with him being stuck in the dream world. He wanted to be there to help her, but he could only do so much from here.

Her smile grew a bit more. "I'm surprised with you, Elijah." He was always wanting to help people with their problems and here he was letting her know only that he was glad that she had been handling it. "You are the only one that hasn't pushed me to try and get myself under control."

Hearing her words made him smile. He had been right. He was sure others were doing just as he initially wanted to. He just couldn't do it himself for fear of making it worse. "I know how this plays out. I will not say or do anything that would make you want to give up on your progress."

"Thank you." She said leaning up to kiss him softly. It meant a lot to her that he didn't lecture her on it. She had expected it, but a part of her hoped he wouldn't. She had heard enough about it from everyone else.

"Does Hayley know?" He asked. He knew that at some point Hayley would find out about it. If she knew now, he didn't think she'd allow Elizabeth to be near Hope without being in control of her feedings.

Elizabeth laughed shaking her head. "I'm sure she'll find out from Mary. I'm sure that is the first thing she told her the moment we entered the spell."

"You brought her with you?" His brow raised.

"Hope's birthday is in a few days. I figured she'd like to have some people over to celebrate. Believe me, it wasn't easy to deal with that woman the whole ride here." She said with a shaking her head. "Plus Hayley needs someone else to talk to instead of just me and her daughter."

"I know the feeling all too well." He said looking back at the house for a moment.

"You're ready to kill each other, aren't you?" She asked as she looked at the house as well.

"Some days more than others." He said with a small smile. "Today just happens to be Rebekah's and Kol's day to rip into each other." The words alone had made Elizabeth begin to think she wasn't working hard enough to get them out of there if they were wanting to kill each other. "Stop," Elijah said softly. "I can see the thoughts in your head forming well before the feeling of guilt slowly appeared."

Elizabeth sighed, but nodded. "I know, it's just…" she shook her head slightly. "I've hit a wall and I don't know what else to do. Klaus said tha-"

"You've spoken with my brother?" He asked surprised as he cut her off.

"I didn't pull the blade out if that's what you are wondering. I entered his mind and had the chance to speak with him that way." She said trying to explain. "I just needed some advice at that moment."

Elijah understood. While he didn't believe Elizabeth would do anything to risk any of their lives, he just hated that she wasn't able to seek out his advice when she got stuck. He was who knows how far away from her and they couldn't speak until she was able to visit. He knew she needed to go to someone that was close to the situation.

"I take it he gave you his usual steps to getting things accomplished." Knowing his brother, it was always the same thing.

"You mean threaten and take by force? When doesn't that cross your brother's mind as a solution." The thought itself almost made Elizabeth laugh. It was very rare that Klaus didn't go straight for that idea and Elizabeth hardly seen it.

"This is Niklaus we are talking about." Elijah said with a smile. "It is his specialty to go straight for the threats."

"He did give me the advice to wait for once." The words had surprised Elijah. He never took his brother as one to willingly wait. When he was forced to do nothing, he was chomping at the bit to take out his frustration and anger out on the enemy.

"Are you sure it was my brother who gave you that advice?" It had caused both of them to chuckle.

"He said he has had a lot of time to think while being stuck in his own head." She said with a nod. "I think it's doing him some good."

"I'll believe that when I see it." He said with a smile. His brother had always been the same. Elijah had only hoped that he would change for the better. But with each passing year he had always been the same. If he had in fact began to change, Elijah wanted to be able to witness it in person.

"Aunt Liz!" Hope had yelled from inside the house. Both of them looked towards the house before looking back at each other and laughed. It had been the first time they had been paying attention to the words.

"I think it has a nice ring to it." Elizabeth said with a smile. "Makes me feel more like a part of the family."

"You've been a part of this family for a while now." Elijah said before kissing her softly. "Don't forget that."

"I won't." She said with a smile before finally pulling herself out of Elijah's arms. "Let's go see why I am being called."

______

"I still don't understand why you are choosing to keep them hidden when your pack needs you." Mary said as she took the cup of tea that Hayley offered her. "They need their Alpha and there is only so much that I can do."

"It's not hard to understand." Hayley said as she took a seat across from Mary. "We weren't safe in New Orleans. I know that and Elizabeth knows that. Hope would have been put in danger if we stayed. I'm sure the pack understands that."

"And what about them? You could have easily left them with Elizabeth. Now look what's happened. You've had to move all because someone is looking for them."

"They'd be sitting ducks if they were left in New Orleans. While I trust Elizabeth is keeping Klaus safe, having his siblings in the same place would make it easier for anyone to find them." Hayley said before taking a drink of her own cup of tea. "Not to mention that if any of their enemies happened to get their hands on Elijah, they'd use him to try and gain control over Elizabeth."

"I get that Hope is related to them. But that little girl could have a life without needing to know what kind of past her father's family has. You could have easily left with her and not looked back. Elizabeth would have been fine on her own with them."

Hayley shook her head. "Did you not see how excited she got seeing Elizabeth earlier? Hope knew from the moment Elizabeth came to get more blood from Freya that she needed her to see her family. Hope knows too much already. Even if I wanted to do as you say I should, Hope would not only lose her connection to seeing her family, but she'd lose the only other person that she knows besides me."

"So you'd rather her still be involved with a creature that can hardly control her own bloodlust?"

"What?" Hayley asked confused.

"Elizabeth has been off the wagon for months. After her 'lets play pretend' party, she's been having trouble keeping in control of herself."

"She doesn't seem to be having any problems, Mary." Hayley wasn't sure she wanted to believe her. Elizabeth didn't seem like she was struggling with it. Hayley knew how that bloodlust was like. She had been through it the first several months after she had transitioned and with Hope not being with her. She remembered wanting to give into it all since her emotions were all over the place.

"She's not-"

"She's handling it fine." Malakai said walking into the room with the last of the gifts Elizabeth had packed into the SUV. "Yes, she fell off the wagon there for a short time, but with how well she's been able to get herself back in control, you'd never would have known unless someone mentions it." Malakai couldn't believe that Mary would tell Hayley about Elizabeth's bloodlust. Okay, he could believe it but he'd hoped that she would at least allow Elizabeth to tell her. He shook his head about to leave when another thought crossed his mind. "Did it also ever cross that mind of yours that during that time, she managed to keep them in check. That whole week they were there she managed to keep them following your rules so there would be no deaths or even wars started."

The whole time Hayley tried keep a straight face as Malakai went off. She actually had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide the smile that was currently formed under it. While she had never been the one to talk to Mary like that, she was all for watching it happen in that moment.

Malakai looked over at Hayley. "She starved herself for over a week while she went on a hunt for a painting Klaus had told her about. For a week she stayed in an attic looking for an answer she felt she needed. When she finally found what she needed, she came down and had one blood bag. After that she's been doing just fine." Whether he was saying it to give the whole story before Mary could twist it in some way or if he just needed Hayley to know Elizabeth was control of herself, he'd never know for sure. He looked back at Mary. "She'd never come if there was even the slightest chance she'd put Hope in danger and you know that." Without another word, Malakai left the room.

"He has a point." Hayley said looking over at Mary. "Elizabeth has never not thought about my daughter's safety." She nodded before she looked over towards the door that Elizabeth and Hope had walked in to. "You may hate her for what she is, and who she's protecting, but Elizabeth has done nothing but make sure Hope is safe."

"I still can't see how you can just easily trust her doing this." Mary shook her head. "What happens if one day you piss her off and she bites you? You wouldn't have even a chance with there being no cure."

"Elizabeth wouldn't do that. Not to Hope. Mary, I am asking you to please ease up on her. I know how you like giving her a hard time on everything, but she's trying to make things work." Hayley wanted things to be better when they came back to New Orleans. She wanted there to be peace as much as possible. Elizabeth said everything seemed to be heading in that direction and Hayley knew that Mary was one of those obstacles that Elizabeth needed to continually pass.

Mary sat there for a moment, thinking. Hayley could see that she was. Mary sighed a moment later. "You really have no plans of returning until after all of this is over, do you."

Hayley shook her head. "Not until we have the cures we need and Elizabeth says it's okay to be back there. I trust her Mary. As much as we've butted heads from time to time, she has been keeping her promise."

"And what happens if she breaks it?" Mary asked curiously.

"I pick up where she left off. Hopefully that won't be the case." Hayley said with a nod.

______

"Are you sure this will work?" Elizabeth asked as she looked down at a piece of paper in her hand. On it held a complicated looking binding spell. One that Freya had spent months on. It was the spell that would allow both Hope and Elizabeth to enter the dream world without the other one present.

"That's the thing," Freya said looking between Elizabeth and Hope. "She needs to try it out first. If it doesn't work, we'll have to tweak the spell a bit. But by going off the other binding spells I've learned, and created, it should work just fine."

Elizabeth smiled at Hope. "It would definitely help her out. She'd be able to get lessons from you and visit you all while I am away."

"That doesn't mean you can stay away longer if she does this." Freya said with a smile. "We'll still expect to see you more often."

Elizabeth smiled. "It will be a lot easier to visit now that I know they are only a two hour drive away from New Orleans."

"Are we really that close?" Elijah asked looking at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded. "So close, but completely untraceable. The place is cloaked beyond what I thought was possible, and I've made sure technology wise that everything is off." She wasn't going to risk anything this time. She wanted Hope to have some stability in her life. She didn't want the girl to be constantly moving around. She hoped that this would be the last time until she got the cures.

"How are things out there?" Rebekah asked from her spot by the door.

Elizabeth went to open her mouth to say something, anything, about how things were going, but the only thought that passed her mind was her setback with the bloodlust. She shook her head slightly before looking at Rebekah. "I'm at a standstill. The person I have working on the cure can barely identify the strands in my venom to break it down, it could take her years to reverse it."

"Why not get the venom from the wolves?" Kol asked.

"Doing so would put Elizabeth in a situation where it would create more enemies that we don't need." Elijah answered. "None of them will be so willing to hand it over."

"So we are to just to continue to wait while her chemist takes her sweet time to get us the cure?" There was anger in Kol's words.

"I will not be like Lucien and force it upon them. I won't even ask, not with me barely being able to keep Mary at bay with my recent screw ups." Elizabeth said as she shook her head. "I want to do this the right way, Kol. One that doesn't lead to having a war on my hands."

"We'd like to be out of here, damn the consequences. We can handle them afterwards." Kol said shaking his head.

"What about Hope?" Elizabeth asked glaring at him. "I do that and Hope still wouldn't be able to step into the city and be safe until we are done cleaning up a mess that I can clearly avoid. What would your brother think if I pulled the blade out of him with everything falling apart around us?"

"She has a point, Kol." Freya said looking at Kol. "Klaus wouldn't be forgiving if he couldn't be with Hope after this. Elizabeth is doing this the right way no matter if we like it or not."

A loud, frustrated groan could be heard from Kol just as he turned and walked away from all them. It made Elizabeth shake her head slightly. She knew how much they wanted to be out of this spell and be able to live their lives once again. She'd probably feel the same way if the situation had been reversed.

"He'll get over it." Freya said looking over at Elizabeth. "Cabin fever can get the best of us at times."

"Cabin Fever." Elizabeth said shaking her head slightly. "No this is much worse than cabin fever, we all know that." She looked over at Hope. She seemed to be unfazed that they had just been arguing around her. "You guys are at each other's throats simply because you only have each other to talk to." She ran a hand through her hair before looking at Freya. "Tell me what needs to be done so we can get this spell underway."

Freya sighed softly and handed her a list of ingredients. "Try your best to commit this to memory. It's not a lot of things that need to be used but some of them can be a bit difficult to acquire."

Elizabeth looked at the list and laughed. "One phone call and I'll have everything needed for this." Elizabeth knew that she could drive out to Jess and get everything she needed and be back quickly to get things going. "We could do this tonight."

"If it happens to be a full moon." Freya said with a look that made Elizabeth roll her eyes.

"A full moon, really?" She asked as she shook her head. "You couldn't make it with something else?"

"The best kind of spells include the the full moon." Freya said with a small smile.

"Right." Elizabeth said sighing as she looked at Hope. "Well, it looks like that's another thing we'll have to do on your birthday."

The pout that formed on Hope's face had said everything it needed to. She was already tired of hearing 'wait until your birthday'. It was still four days away and to Hope, it still felt like weeks away.

Rebekah smiled at Hope and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "It will be here before you know it." She promised Hope.

"You have no idea how fast it will come." Elizabeth said with a smile. " Days go by a whole lot faster than you think."

That was the truth. To everyone in that room that was a vampire, their days were mostly a blur. The days were merely seconds in the grand scheme of them being immortal. It was a completely different experience from being a human and waiting for the days to pass. It was a feeling Elizabeth was happy she no longer had to feel the pain of the days extending more than she want them to be. For Elizabeth, she was wanting, almost begging, for them to slow down. The more the months passed, the more she felt like she hadn't done a damn thing. It caused an idea to form in her head as they continued their conversation.

Hayley and Malakai stood out on the porch. Both of them looked out towards the road. From their spot, they could see cars pass by every once in a while. All of them unknowingly passing the property.

"She's stubborn, you know." Malakai said looking over at Hayley. "She won't ask for help unless you press her to let you help her."

"As much as I've been wanting to do just that," Hayley sighed, keeping her eyes out on the road. "Liz had a point about keeping her safe. If I helped, what kind of danger would I be putting Hope in? They've already tried finding us once because I'm hiding the Mikaelsons. I can only imagine what would happen if I actually did more than what I have been doing."

"You'd be sharing the weight she feels though." Malakai said with a nod. "She's got so much pressure on herself to find those cures. One of these days she's going to break in a way that I might not be able to help her with."

"You think she'll lose herself in this, don't you?" Hayley wasn't surprised to see Malakai worrying about Elizabeth. This was his best friend they were talking about. He, along with the Mikaelsons were the only ones who knew Elizabeth when she was human. He knew what had pushed her towards the edge as a human. While he hasn't spent as much time with her as a vampire, Hayley was sure he was already picking up on the very things that could easily push Elizabeth to a breaking point.

"She turned her humanity off once in her existence." Malakai shook his head. "Intentionally at that. All for some plan that had backfired quickly because of her darker desires. Imagine if this all becomes too much for her and she believes her only way out is to flip it once more."

Hayley nodded as she listened to him. He did have a valid reason to worry. Elizabeth's humanity was forced on the moment she had bitten Elijah. For all Hayley knew, Elizabeth could have handled the mess of emotions that came afterwards or she didn't. She didn't know how much Elizabeth could take before having her switched flipped seemed more inviting. "Then you'll need to be there to help her." Hayley said looking over at him. "You're her best friend. She's going to need you to be there by her side until all of this is over. Whenever it seems like she's about to fall apart, tell her to come visit us, to spend time with Elijah. I'm sure that will always help her to get back to where she needs to."

Malakai nodded. "While I know that would work, there is that chance that one day that wouldn't work."

"Prove yourself wrong." Hayley said placing her hand on Malakai's shoulder. "We both know she won't get to that point willingly."

"Mom!" Hope yelled as she ran out onto the porch to find Hayley.

Hayley turned and smiled as Hope reached her. "Did you have a great time seeing your aunts and uncles?"

"Yes!" Hope said with a grin. "I get to do a spell on my birthday!"

Hayley's smile dropped slightly as she looked over at the door for any sign of Elizabeth. "And what spell is this?"

"Aunt Freya said it would let me see them when Aunt Liz was away." Hope explained.

"Aunt Liz?" Both Hayley and Malakai asked at the same time.

"Freya said it once and it stuck." Elizabeth said as she stepped out onto the porch. Elizabeth brought her hand up, pushing a few stray strands behind her ear. "It's a simple spell that Freya will be working with her on up until her birthday and then it will be all on her. But, I need to go and see Jess."

"Is something wrong?" Hayley asked worried.

"No," Elizabeth said quickly as she shook her head. "I need to get the needed items for the spell. I should be back before dark."

"Can't you do that tomorrow?" Hayley asked. "You just got here."

Elizabeth smiled. "I'm running, not taking the car. Plus if I get this out of the way now, I'd have no reason to leave again until after her birthday."

"She has a point." Malakai said with a nod. "She'll have no reason to go back to New Orleans later and get sucked into anything that would keep her there."

"You'll come back right?" Hope asked looking at Elizabeth.

"I wouldn't miss your birthday for anything." Elizabeth said giving her a smile. "I'll be back before your mom tucks you in for bed."

"Now she won't want to go to bed until you are here." Hayley said sighing softly. She tiled her head towards the road. "Go on, we'll be here." Before anyone even had a chance to blink, Elizabeth was gone from their sight.

It didn't take long for Elizabeth to reach Jess's house. She had barely taken a step onto the porch when Jess stepped out of the house and gave her a small smile before holding the door open for her. Elizabeth sighed and walked into Jess's house. She knew that she didn't have to explain at all why she was there. The perks of Jess already knowing things about the future.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jess asked as she closed the door behind her.

Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair as she turned and looked at Jess. "You should have seen them Jess." She said shaking her head slightly. "They are ready to kill each other for me taking my sweet time on this. Not to mention that I heard Hayley and Kai talking." She sighed once more. "At this point I need something, anything that will show me if waiting is a good thing, like Klaus suggested, or if I should be pushing to do something, anything."

"While telling you would use the same energy as showing you, something tells me you want more than my word." Jess gave her a smile as she held out her hand. "I'll only show you what you need to know."

"Thanks." Elizabeth said grateful that Jess understood she didn't want to see everything Jess had seen so far. She wasn't ready for the rest of the details. She just wanted some peace of mind for the time being. "You are helping me to not lose my mind." She said before taking Jess's hand.

#The originals #The vampire Diaries #Forgotten Alliance #Series #Elijah Mikaelson x oc #The Originals AU season 3-4

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forestiyari · 7 years ago

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CS JJ Day 18: Packing Poles

AN: This is my (rather random) contribution to 2018′s @csjanuaryjoy. It’s fluff and so far away from what I usually write that I’m amazed it’s making it out there. Thank you so much to @lenfaz for organising this this year.

Packing Poles

Rated G - 2.5k

It was 11am.

At least that’s what the dial flashing in front of her said. It did not feel like 11am. Eleven, while annoyingly early, was a time that she could at least conceive of, but her body was telling her it was closer to 5am and having been awake for a good sixteen hours was rejecting her attempts to remain upright.

Emma hated international travel.

And after two hours in line at customs she was pretty sure she hated Stansted Airport too. She’d followed all the advice she’d been given by her teammates, but despite wearing her official team USA hoodie, having her team USA ID badge poking innocently out of her passport cover and making sure all of her landing card was filled out in perfect, black inked, block letters the woman in front of her seemed decidedly unimpressed.

“You’re here for the what?” Ms Ghorm, as her badge proclaimed her to be, icily asked.

“The World Championships?” Honestly after the cramped flight and lack of sleep Emma was beginning to question herself whether that was the right answer… She was sure she’d answered at least three times already.

“Right, the athletics? In Stratford, right?”

“No, London.” Her brow furrowed, she had absolutely no idea what was going on- she just knew that if she failed to check in for training in… She checked her watch, took away five… two hours, then Mary Margaret was going to actually kill her.

“Well, Ms Swan. If you wouldn’t mind just taking a seat over there then I’ll see what we can do about moving you through as soon as possible.” The woman’s grin was sickly sweet and Emma swore it was the source of the headache she could feel coming in. She turned her head to take in the seats that Ms Ghorm had indicated and was shocked to realise she was being put into a holding area; the square of seats gated off but in full view of all of the other passengers. As she took a seat she felt like a toddler being put into a pen to be kept out of trouble.

Emma dozed, almost sliding off the plastic chair twice before she worked out how to wedge herself in between the arms, she took out her phone out of habit before discovering her European SIM card was in her hold luggage and the wifi was almost non-existent, she even considered reading the book that her teammate Archie had shoved into her hand back in Boston before remembering that it was a book on crown green bowling and that she hadn’t seen Archie since then. She took in the queued passengers around her, but the rest of her flight appeared to have cleared and left her alone. It was gone 8:30 when a smarmy-looking man with a clipboard approached the gate.

“Emma Swan?” The man called.

“That’s me.” She jumped to her feet.

“Follow me.” The man span quickly before marching away, not checking whether she was following him or not. She almost had to jog to keep up with him as he lead her down an ill-lit corridor to what was definitely some sort of interrogation room. She groaned.

It didn’t take long for the interview to be set up: Emma on one side of the table, the immigration officer on the other and a small voice recorder between them.

“This is Eli Gold, officer number 02368, conducting interview in relation to case S6-41. Present is the alleged Emma Swan.” The man droned and Emma frowned. Alleged? Who else would she be? “Can you state your name for the record please, miss?”

“Emma Swan?”

“Your full name.”

“Emma Swan.”

“Date of birth?”

“October 27th 1983”

“Country of residence?” The inane questions continued for at least half an hour and Emma was ready to tear her hair out before the reason she’d been singled out became evident.

“Miss Swan, I have here your landing card. Can you please tell me why you have listed your date of birth as being the first of August 2017?”

“Seriously?” She ground out. “Seriously?” Her exhaustion suddenly wiped out by indignation and frustration. “I have been travelling for twenty hours and managed to accidentally put today’s- sorry yesterday’s- date down and that’s why you pulled me in here for the third degree?” She regretted her outburst almost immediately, the look that crossed Mr Gold’s face letting her know that she was going to pay for it.

“If you would like to take a seat in the waiting area, an officer will be with you shortly to let you know the outcome of your case.”

***

It was 9pm.

The smirk on Mr Gold’s face each time he passed the waiting area had been torture, but as soon as his shift had ended and a Ms French had taken over Emma had been free to pass onto British soil.

Only to discover the new nightmare that was the “unclaimed luggage” office.

“It’s bright pink.” She explained slowly to the rather inattentive attendant on duty. “Walter” his name badge declared. “With a yellow flower.” She cringed at the description she had to give, but since Mary Margarent had gifted her the monstrosity she’d had no problem finding her suitcase quickly- until now.

“It’ll be here somewhere.” Walter said with a brief wave of his hand. “Take a look.” Had Emma been more awake she might have wondered at the lack of security, but honestly she just wanted out of the airport some time yesterday. Her suitcase was easy enough to find, but as she searched around the shelves and floor she realised her other piece of baggage was missing.

“Does the oversized baggage come here also?” She asked, only to receive a puzzled look.

“Of course not.” Apparently Walter thought this should be obvious. “That goes to the chute by carousel 9.”

As she crossed the baggage reclaim hall once again Emma couldn’t decide whether to cry or scream, but spotting her pride and joy lying in the middle of the floor, footprints and scuffmarks covering the dark blue casing, caused a chill to run through her body. She sat down on the floor next to the bag and prepared herself for the worst.

The zipper opened easily and she stretched as far as she could to pull it along the side of the bag. She’d barely opened it a third of the way before her fears were confirmed. Three of the custom made fifteen foot long poles were broken. Emma groaned and held her head in her hands. She was crouched there a few minutes before a cool voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Y’know I’m not sure, Love, but I think you might be a shotputter?” Emma had had a bad enough day that really anything could have set her off, but a smooth British accent filled with laughter and making jokes at her expense was definitely a decent target for her ire.

“I’ll give you shot-” As she muttered the words through gritted teeth she rose to her feet and span around, ready to give whoever was there an earful… but she was brought up short by possibly the most handsome face she’d ever seen “-putting” she trailed off pathetically.

“Emma Swan, right?” The man asked, extending his hand. Almost in slow motion she took it and let him shake, not taking her eyes off his face- taking in the crooked smile, the sharp jawline, the oh-so-blue eyes. Only when his brow creased slightly did she realise he was waiting for an answer. She pulled back her hand and snapped her mouth closed, feeling the blush spread over her cheeks as she cringed internally at the thought that she’d been staring.

“How do you know?” The question came out harsh, covering her own embarrassment.

“Love,” He said with a grin, “You’ve won three medals in the last eighteen months.” Instead of clarifying anything this only made Emma more confused- yeah, she was good, but that hardly made her a household name. Afterall, pole vaulting was hardly the world’s number one sport.

“And you are?” She settled for in the end. The man didn’t look like some kind of stalker and wasn’t dressed like any sports reporter she’d met before. He laughed before holding his hand over his heart and dropping his eyes.

“You mean you don’t recognise me?” She shook her head. “I’m hurt.” He reached behind her to the oversized baggage chute and picked up a long bag, just over half the length of her pole vault bag.

“Javelin?” She asked stupidly.

“Aye. I’m Killian, team GB javelin superstar.” She frowned, rifling through her brain until she found what she was looking for.

“Killian Jones?”

“The one and only.” He grinned and she didn’t like to admit she only knew of him because of Ruby’s rant about the British distracting the opposition with eye candy. Not that Ruby had been wrong to class him as such.

“Why have you checked in javelins?” Emma asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of real interest. “That seems like a risk given you could just drive them.”

“I got held up in Monaco.” He shrugged as if that explained everything. It didn’t. The diamond league meet in Monaco should have finished over a week ago and she may not have been an expert on Europe but she was pretty sure the length of drive was nothing compared to some of the cross country trips she’d taken with her poles.

“And you’re headed to London now?” She asked, the vague beginnings of a terrible idea running through her head.

“Aye. Why? You need a lift?” He asked casually and she felt the relief shoot through her at the fact that he’d offered before she had to ask.

“Kinda?” She shrugged one shoulder, hoping to come across as contrite. “I’ve been held up a while and I’m avoiding turning on my phone cos I’m too tired to deal with my coach’s voice right now.”

“And let me guess: you’ve never heard of public transport.” Killian’s voice was teasing and Emma realised he was probably going to say yes.

“Have you ever tried to get a bag of five fifteen foot long poles on the subway?” She asked, matching his teasing tone before remembering what she’d been looking at before he appeared and continuing in a much more morose tone; “Even if three of them are broken.”

Emma could see the moment he took pity on her, shrugging his rucksack higher on his shoulder and scooping up his equipment bag before making a sweeping gesture with his free hand from her towards the door.

“After you Love, I don’t know if I trust you at my back with those poles.” She snorted in response.

“Believe me; if I stab you with my poles, then you’ll feel it.”

***

It was 11pm.

The light was fading fast and after an hour of trying they still had yet to successfully find a way to reliably secure Emma’s pole to Killian’s car.

It didn’t help that said car was a battered VW beetle whose age was greater than its gas mileage. And sported a curved roof.

Emma was an expert at securing pole vaulting poles to cars, but the beetle’s shape and lack of opening windows or trunk was proving beyond her and her trusty bungee cords.

“Killian, it’s fine. I’ll call Mary Margaret and she can arrange for someone to come and collect me. It won’t take long.”

“Nonsense Love. We’ll manage.”

“You need to get to London, you have to be up for training tomorrow.” She tried to reason with him, but he only offered a derisive snort.

“So do you. I’m not leaving you here alone.” He turned away from her, effectively ending the conversation and she let out a small relieved sigh. She really didn’t want to wait here alone either.

As she circled the car for the fiftieth time it hit her- literally. On the hip. The passenger side of the car had an exaggeratedly large wing mirror. Emma made sure that Killian was looking away before experimentally placing her hands on it and jumping to force her weight down. It didn’t snap.

“I’ve got it.” She said before heaving her pole bag from the sidewalk to rest on the mirror. With the rear end suspended precariously on the back bumper of the bug, straps holding shut the door and her arm out of the window to offer support- or at least an early warning system- she slowly began the journey south.

It was 3am.

Emma was vaguely aware that in not much more than twenty four hours she was due to vault nine metres into the air at an international competition, but the part of her that was running on the best two hours of sleep she’d ever experienced in Killian’s car, adrenaline and giggles didn’t care.

Because wherever it was that Killian had dragged her to after declaring that the noises her stomach made were louder than a freight train was feeding her the best lahmacun and salad and she was on her fourth with no intention of slowing down and no shame.

The company wasn’t bad either.

In fact, she hadn’t felt this way just talking to a guy ever and she didn’t need the buzz of alcohol to appreciate the dimples and the self-depreciating smiles and the wisp of hair that was visible over the collar of his shirt.

And maybe it was just the effect of a really crappy forty eight hours, and maybe it was a really bad idea, but maybe taking him up on his offer of ‘resting up’ at his place instead of fighting to find her room in the athlete’s village wasn’t completely off the table.

Knowing he had a garage and she wouldn’t have to worry about leaving her remaining poles outside exposed to the elements or any potential thieves was helping with her decision too.

She really loved those poles.

It didn’t take her long to realise she could really learn to love the way he kissed too.

It was 11am.

The blinds were doing nothing to keep out the bright August sun and Emma felt herself being forced to wakefulness despite the soft mattress beneath her and the silky blankets on top of her and the firm body behind her.

Also the chirping cell phone really could do with shutting the hell up.

She felt Killian roll away from her and the murmur of his own sleep filled voice washed over her, both relaxing and thrilling at once. Emma refused to open her eyes though and burrowed deeper beneath the covers, only allowing a smile to tug at her lips when he finished his conversation and wrapped his arm over her once more, pressing light kisses to her shoulder blades.

“So Love, it turns out my agent Regina is practically family to your coach.” Emma frowned, knowing only enough of Mary Margaret’s personal life to know that she’s an only child. “And when you fell out of contact yesterday the two of them set up some missing person operation.”

“Let me guess,” She replied, “They found me.”

“Not exactly- but apparently reports of a yellow bug with fifteen foot poles stuck to the side made their way onto twitter.”

Emma groaned. Mary Margaret and Ruby were never going to let her live this one down. But as Killian rolled her over and lowered his lips to hers she wondered whether she really cared.

#csjj #cs fanfic #cs january joy 2018 #forestry #fluffy

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kiki-ciara-blog · 7 years ago

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Half the World Away

This is my CSSS for @imagnifika.I hope you enjoy it, there’s a little angst as well as fluff. It's been lovely getting to know you over the last few weeks. Enjoy your Christmas celebrations when they come on 8th January! Massive thanks to @best-left-hook-jones for beta reading.

Also on AO3

7k words

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KJ 15:48 Morning Swan

ES 10:48 Afternoon Jones

KJ 15:49 Many meetings today?

ES 10:50 Nope. I’ve got the afternoon off. You nearly finished then?

KJ 15:50 10 minutes and counting and then I’m off until January!

ES 10:50 Nice! Any big plans for the evening?

KJ 15:51 Huge - a ready meal for one and 3 episodes of Stranger Things to watch on Netflix.

ES 10:51 Exciting. I’ve got to do a grocery run but shall we facetime when I get home then?

KJ 10:52 I look forward to it!

She couldn’t quite pinpoint when this thing with Killian Jones became more than a casual acquaintance and turned into a solid friendship, perhaps the most important one in her life. It was gradual, evolving over time until Emma was surprised to find herself looking forward to sharing the upcoming Christmas season with her friend. Even if there was an ocean between them. She told herself that it was only because it meant they would have more time to talk, rather than Emma actually getting into the festive spirit herself.

It had started around 18 months ago when she and Killian had been partnered on a project being run jointly by the London and Boston offices of Mills International. Due to the difference in time zones, Emma would exchange handover emails and skype calls with her British counterpart as he was reaching the end of his day’s work and she was part-way through her morning.

A couple of months into the project, Killian had been due to be out of town at a conference, and had insisted that Emma have his personal mobile number, so that she could contact him whilst he was offline if there were any issues. There hadn’t been, but she also didn’t delete his number when he returned to the office the following week.

Over time, their daily handovers became more informal, sharing little updates about their personal lives in addition to the required work related information. And then, as the long Thanksgiving weekend approached last year, Emma decided to give Killian her personal number. He would be working on what was just another Thursday in November for the London office, she’d reasoned, and he might need to get in touch.

She had been a little disappointed when the Whatsapp notification came through at 7am on Thanksgiving morning. The first couple of words of the message showed on her lock screen and read: [Swan, Sorry to message you so early…]. Sighing, Emma had tapped the notification to see what the problem was, but was then pleasantly surprised to see a series of silly gifs and emojis beneath the full message.

Swan, Sorry to message you so early, but I wanted to be the first to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving! I’m having a turkey sandwich for lunch in solidarity!

So yeah, that was probably when the contact outside of work had begun. They’d still been few and far between to begin with, though. A link from Killian to some ridiculous story he’d seen in the British tabloids, like the Seagull that had stolen bags of chips from a shop. A frustrated gif from Emma of Chewbacca smashing a guitar, sent while she was sitting on hold with her energy supplier for nearly an hour. A photo on Facebook of the London team at their work’s Christmas dinner, with a comment beneath from Killian tagging Emma as a missing member of the team. A corresponding photo from Emma on Instagram the next night of a bottle of wine that she’d tagged Killian in. They’d added each other on various social media platforms and would like or comment on their posts, although Emma was always careful to ensure that she didn’t do so excessively, still uncertain of the boundaries of this new friendship.

After a particularly awkward Valentine’s date, where Killian had been set up against his own good sense with the sister of a friend and colleague, he’d returned home and sent Emma a message.

Well that was a disaster Swan. I hope you have better luck on your date tonight!

Oh no what happened?

Turns out that the chap that this Felicity had seen across the bar and wanted to go on a date with was Kieran from Accounting and not myself.

Ouch

Yes, seemingly she’d spotted him/me when we had a team night out and we both had blue shirts on, have dark hair and stubble so Robin had assumed it was me when she started asking questions. What time are you meeting your mystery man?

Billy? In an hour. Ruby hasn’t told me much about him, just that he’s not long moved into town after a divorce.

Well, have fun Swan and be safe.

When Emma returned home a mere two hours later, her first thought was to get in touch with Killian. Kicking off her heels in the hallway she fired off a quick message.

Hey. You still awake?

She plugged her phone in to charge and got changed into her pyjamas, not expecting him to reply given the late hour. When she checked her phone a few minutes later, Emma was delighted to see a message waiting.

You’re back early, Swan, everything okay?

I’m fine Jones, I think this must be a night for disastrous blind dates!

Do tell!

He was already several drinks in when I arrived, had ordered food for both of us, thought I wouldn’t notice when he tried to pinch the waitress’ ass as she walked by, and then tried to get handsy with me.

Are you sure you’re okay?

Really, I’m fine. I downed my drink, threw his beer in his face and his burger in his lap. Then grabbed my coat and jumped in a cab.

Seconds after sending the last message Emma’s phone vibrated in her hand with an incoming call.

‘Hey Killian, you didn’t have to call, honestly I’m fine!’

‘I have no doubt that you are, Swan, but I wanted to make sure, and I wanted to commend you on your stylish exit.’ His voice sounded huskier than when they spoke at work, as if it was thick with sleep

‘What time is it there?’

‘Just after 1.’

‘I woke you up didn’t I? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have messaged.’ Emma kicked herself for being so thoughtless.

‘Nonsense. I was actually trying to stay awake to see if you would be sending me any of your usual gif reactions to your date.’

Emma grinned. ‘Really? Well I’m sure if you hadn’t phoned I’d have sent some. Probably involving Lesley Knope or some angry kitties.’

‘Well, as I’m wide awake, shall we share all the horrendous details of our delectable dates?’

Getting comfortable for a long chat, Emma replied, ‘Absolutely, you start Jones.’

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

After that, the phone calls became more regular. Sometimes it would be Emma calling Killian when she was up late, knowing he would be getting up for work. Other times Killian would return the wake-up call on his lunch break. There were calls at more civil times for both of them on weekends, late evening for Killian and mid afternoon for Emma. All of these interspersed with messages, and their regular work related dialogue.

It was fun, and easy. Killian soon became one of the best friends that Emma had ever had. It seemed he could sense when she was doubting herself and immediately appeared in her notifications as her personal cheerleader. Emma, in return, tried to rally Killian’s spirits whenever he was particularly stressed at work, going out of her way to find things to make him laugh (dogs dressed as Yoda seemed to be the most effective). There would barely be a day going by where they didn’t speak or message at least once.

Then of course there were the little gifts and postcards she would get in the mail from him. Sometimes it would be a special hot chocolate mix or coffee blend that he had come across and wanted her to try. Other times it would be a book that they had talked about, or some trinket that reminded him of her. When he went on his travels at the weekends he would try and find the tackiest and most tasteless postcard that he could, knowing she would get a kick out of it.

For her birthday, he had sent her a stunning charm bracelet with a swan attached. She had squealed down the phone at him when the mailman delivered her parcel.

‘Oh my god Killian thank you so much I love it I love it I love it!’ she rambled.

‘Bloody hell Swan, I think only dogs were able to hear some of that. Calm down love.’ Emma tried to contain her excitement, but still bounced a little on her toes as she giggled. ‘You are most welcome in any case.’

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

December 22nd was no different. Emma had to run to the grocery store on the way home from her half day at work, making sure her fridge was stocked with comfort food before putting herself into hibernation mode until Christmas had been and gone for another year.

After queuing for longer than seemed humanly possible, Emma finally returned to her apartment, plated up her grilled cheese and hot chocolate that she had picked up on the way and dialled Killian.

‘Swan!’ he greeted, eyes twinkling with mirth as his face filled her phone screen.

‘Jones, how was your frozen lasagne?’

‘I haven’t had it yet, it’s still in the microwave - see?’ He turned around so that Emma could see the microwave on the bench behind him.

‘Oh yum, you lucky, lucky man. I’ll try not to make you too jealous with my grilled cheese.’ She took a bite and gave an exaggerated moan of pleasure, noticing the way his eyebrow jerked up at the noise. ‘Mmm so good. Want some?’ She held the sandwich out towards her phone.

‘Not nice to tease a man, Swan. Bad form, love.’

‘I’m just getting you back for those gingerbread cookies you taunted me with last week’ she laughed.

‘Fair point. So what are you going to do for the rest of your day?’

Emma told him about her minimal plans as she pottered around her apartment folding laundry and generally tidying up. Killian had retrieved his dinner from the microwave and had settled himself at the kitchen table, happy to let her talk while he ate, his phone propped up against something to keep them both in view.

Having inadvertently given Killian a virtual tour, he asked, ‘Are you putting your tree up this weekend? I haven’t spotted it in the background.’

‘Not going to happen.’ Emma replied abruptly, sitting back down on the couch and trying her best not to glare. ‘I don’t have a tree, never had, probably never will. Not a huge fan of Christmas, if I’m honest. I mean I’m happy for others to enjoy it but, myself, I’d rather just hibernate until all the good will has moved on.’

‘So you’re not doing anything special on Monday then, love?’

‘Nope, not this year. Well, not any year, to be honest. Normally Mary Margaret insists I join her and David for dinner and she force feeds me festive cheer until I’m gagging on it. But this year they are going to stay with David’s mum in Wisconsin so I’ll be cocooning myself in a blanket on the couch and enjoying the extra couple of days off work. And talking to you, of course. That’s the only part I’m really looking forward to.’

Emma looked away from Killian at that admission, reluctant to see his reaction. He didn’t miss a beat and carried straight on with the conversation.

‘Sounds similar to my own plans there, Swan. Not a big fan of the holiday myself. I tend to get all Bah-humbug about it,’ he shrugged.

‘Tell me, Jones - how have we made it to December 22nd and have never had a proper conversation about Christmas when we speak every day? Did you used to spend it with your brother?’

A sadness washed over Killian’s face, his brow furrowing and the light vanishing from his eyes. ‘I did. We had some good times. Never a dull moment.’ He paused. ‘Until the accident. There were a few magical years with someone very special too. But that was a long time ago.’

‘Milah?’ Emma asked tentatively.

‘Aye,’ he sighed and scratched behind his ear, unwilling to make eye contact.

‘Oh, Killian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down. Here’s a deal for you. As we both normally have challenging Christmases, why don’t we have a virtual one together this year? We can keep each other company, without having to go overboard on the festivities.’ She wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, provide a gesture of comfort, but the thousands of miles between them made that impossible.

‘Sounds like a fine plan, Swan. Let’s do it.’ Emma could see him rallying himself. ‘Now let’s talk about something else other than why we don’t like the holidays.’

They chatted for what seemed like hours, and quite possibly was, agreeing to speak again the next day.

-----------

Saturday morning, had Emma feeling more positive about the forthcoming holiday than she had in years. That was, until she checked her Facebook feed and saw the pregnancy announcement that Neal and Tamara had made. She kicked herself for letting things like that get to her. Neal was ancient history. It wasn’t as if she still had feelings for him. But it still sucked that after his betrayal all those years ago - where he had unceremoniously hung her out to dry - that he was the one who found love and happiness. He got to have the family he had promised her 17 year old self. And yet here she was spending Christmas alone. Again.

Determined not to wallow in self pity, she poured her second coffee of the morning and called Mary Margaret to wish her and David safe travels. Mary Margaret’s festive cheer was normally highly contagious, and this morning she was as effusive as ever. As they chatted, she waxed lyrical about the three different types of cupcakes and the two batches of sugar cookies she had been baking up until 2am. She told Emma of the hand-crafted gifts she had made for David and Ruth, mentioning that Emma would receive her gift when they returned at the end of the month. Christmas couldn’t help but be magical when Mary Margaret was involved.

Normally Emma would be part of that too, albeit in small manageable portions. As they spoke it dawned on her that this year she would be completely alone, all her closest friends over 1000 miles away. Feeling another wave of sadness rapidly approaching, Emma wrapped up the call and agreed to meet Mary Margaret on New Years Eve when they returned, with a further promise of a phone call on Christmas Day.

As she hung up the call, the sadness she had so desperately been trying to push deep down through the soles of her feet reared up with a vengeance, and the tears started to flow. It was like a dam bursting; what began as a sniffle quickly became violent sobbing that took her completely by surprise. Unsettling as it was, in the back of her mind she realised that this moment was probably overdue. Not normally one for expressing her feelings, many painful thoughts had been held in submission for too long. Unable to bring the sobbing under control, she relented and gave in to the outpouring of emotions, hugging a cushion to her chest as she slid to the floor her back leaning against the couch.

After what seemed like hours, but was in truth only a few minutes, the tears subsided and Emma began to feel like herself again. She was just about to reach for the box of tissues on the table beside her when her phone rang. Killian! Dammit! She couldn’t talk to him like this. They had become incredibly close these last few months, but she hadn’t cried in front of him yet, and that was a level of vulnerability she didn’t think she could manage just now. So she sent the call to voicemail. A minute later, he called again, and as before, she sent it straight to voicemail. Shortly after, her phone buzzed with a message notification.

Swan, I know you’re rejecting my calls, is everything ok?

Not up for talking right now, Jones

Now I’m worried. What happened? Are you alright?

I’m fine, I’ll call you soon.

Promise?

Promise

As her last message sent, Emma realised that she did want to talk to Killian about her sorrows. If anyone would understand the loneliness that Christmas could bring it would be him. Plus, she found herself wanting to share more and more of herself with her friend these days.

She stood up, walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Her face was puffy, her eyes bloodshot from the tears and her nose was redder than Rudolph’s. She splashed some water on her face to cool her cheeks, pulled her hair up into a messy bun and then went to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Armed with caffeine, she grabbed her phone and started a facetime with Killian, figuring that if she was going to confide in him, then she wanted to be able to look him in the eyes.

Within moments, his handsome face filled her screen, his brow furrowed and his blue eyes full of concern.

‘You’ve been crying.’ It wasn’t a question. Emma nodded her head and bit her lip in response. ‘Talk to me, Swan,’ he continued softly, ‘you can tell me anything.’

‘I know, and I will tell you,’ she began, ‘but before I do, you need to understand that I’m not normally like this. I don’t wallow in self pity. I’m not some damsel in distress. Nobody saves me but me.’

‘Understood.’ He smiled, ‘I was under no illusion that you needed rescuing, love.’

He said nothing more, just nodded to her encouragingly and waited until she was ready to tell her story. With a deep breath she began, starting with Neal, telling Killian how she had fallen for an older man in her teens. A man who had promised her the world and then had abandoned her - quite literally leaving the country - when she told him she thought she was pregnant. It had turned out to be a false alarm, but by then Neal was in the wind.

‘So when I saw the Facebook notification this morning that he and his fiance are expecting a child…’

‘It opened old wounds?’

‘Yeah,’ she whispered, a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall.

‘If you don’t mind me asking, love, given that he hurt you so much, how are you seeing him on social media?’

‘Oh yeah, that!’ Emma huffed. ‘I wish I wasn’t. An old friend of mine, August, who also knows Neal, commented on the post so it appeared on my newsfeed. Normally I just skim over anything to do with him, but this one stood out.’

‘I sense that isn’t the only thing that upset you this morning Emma,’ Killian continued, his eyes searching her face as if for clues.

‘No, you’re right. It’s not.’ Her shoulders sagged as she twisted a loose strand of hair around her fingers, not looking at Killian. ‘I spoke to Mary Margaret and she was so excited about going to Wisconsin with David. And I, I just felt, I don’t know…’

‘Lonely?’

‘Lonely,’ she agreed, and this time the tears did fall. Not to the ugly sobbing extent of earlier but enough that she couldn’t hide them from Killian.

‘Oh, love,’ he murmured. ‘I wish I could be there with you right now. I think you need a hug.’

Emma nodded, breathing deeply to get her emotions back under control once again.

‘Thank you for listening, Killian. It really has helped. And I’m sorry that you had to see me in such a state. Like I said, I’m not normally like this.’

‘You have nothing to apologise for lass, you are lovely in every way. And if I might be so bold, even your nose running and tear tracks down your cheeks doesn’t detract from how beautiful you are.’

‘Charmer!’

‘I prefer dashing rapscallion!’ Emma tried to stifle a snort. ‘See? At least I made you smile, love.’ Killian looked like he wanted to say more, but was holding himself in check.

‘You did. I think I’m going to get dressed and head out for some fresh air. Clear my head.’

‘Ok well if you want to talk again later I’ll be here. And if not we’ll chat again tomorrow, aye?’

‘Yes, thank you again, Killian.’

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

As she lay in bed that night, Emma wondered, not for the first time that day, whether there was any deeper meaning to Killian’s comments about her being beautiful. In recent months, their conversations had become more personal, and affectionate. There had been the beautiful bracelet for her birthday. He had taken to calling her ‘love’, though she was sure that that was just a figure of speech. It couldn’t mean any more than that, could it? Even so, it was irrelevant given the small matter of the Atlantic Ocean sitting between them. They’d never even met in person, although she hoped in the coming year she would be able to rectify that. Perhaps she could take a trip to London?

It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world though, would it? He was a very attractive man, he was kind, thoughtful, funny, handsome, attentive, supportive, incredibly good looking (she might have already covered that one). And he was one of her best friends. Maybe Emma did have feelings developing for him, or maybe she was just transferring her loneliness into romantic feelings because he was always so attentive.

When Emma woke on Sunday morning, her news app reported storms sweeping Britain and causing untold damage. Still cocooned under her blanket, she fired off a quick text to Killan to make sure he was unaffected.

Afternoon, Jones. Just read about the storms, hope you’re okay

Morning Swan :) All good for now. Expecting London to get the brunt of it sometime this evening. How are you feeling today?

Much better thanks. I’ve just woken up, are you still good to talk in a couple of hours?

Glad to hear it. Can we make it 10 your time? I’ll need to pop out mid afternoon.

Perfect, speak soon x

Looking forward to it x

Emma re-read the last two messages again. She hadn’t intended to put a kiss at the end of hers, it wasn’t something she and Killian did. Emojis yes, kisses no. She was even more surprised when he returned the gesture. She needed to stop reading into things. It probably didn’t mean anything. Friends put kisses at the end of text messages all the time.

Eventually, after scrolling through her various newsfeeds and dashboards on every app on her phone, she dragged herself out of the warmth of her bed, had a shower, and made coffee and pop tarts. It was, in her opinion, a perfectly balanced breakfast and ideal for someone in hibernation. She was flicking through her choices on Netflix, trying to find something non-Christmassy when her phone rang.

‘Hello.’

‘Hello, Swan.’

‘You sound funny, Jones. What’s that noise in the background?’

‘That would be the wind, love.’ The background roaring was distorting Killian’s voice.

‘That sounds far too loud to be inside.’

‘That’s because I’m not. I decided to go out earlier than I’d originally intended as the weather is closing in. I’ll be inside in a moment so you should be able to hear me better.’

‘What was that? I can barely hear you!’ Emma shouted.

‘Hang on, Swan!’ Emma kept the phone to her ear as she focussed again on her Netflix choices, waiting for Killian to start talking again.

‘Sorry love, that was a bad idea to call you while I was outside. Can you hear me now?’

‘Yes, but it’s still really noisy. Where are you?’

‘I’m at, eh’ he paused, ‘a train station. So you might hear announcements over the tannoy.’

‘Are you going somewhere?’ His hesitation seemed off, but Emma assumed he was just distracted by his surroundings.

‘Just taking shelter for now.’ They chatted for a few minutes, Emma only partly paying attention to the conversation as she finally decided on binge watching The Crown for a few hours.

‘Well, love, I suppose I’d better venture back out again if I’m going to succeed in my Christmas Eve quest. I reckon I’ll be up late tonight so we can talk again this evening if you wish?’

‘That sounds good. I’m not planning on moving from the couch anytime soon so call me anytime. Be safe, Killian.’

The rest of the day passed unremarkably, Emma stuck to her plan of hibernation, moving only occasionally from the couch when nature called or she needed snacks. She maintained a running commentary for Killian on Whatsapp of the highlights of each episode, with occasional selfies of herself snuggled up under a blanket, or of her latest mug of hot chocolate. The first few he read and commented on, but after that he went silent. She assumed he was focused on getting back from his mission into the warmth and safety of his home.

She sent him a text mid afternoon, in case the weather was causing internet issues for him. Certain that he would be home by then and keen to hear how his day had gone. No reply. He had been particularly vague about his ‘quest’ when she had questioned him - he’d joked that it was ‘Top Secret’ and that details could only be given out on a need-to-know basis. Perhaps he’d called in to see a friend on the way home, she thought. Or gone for a Christmas Eve pint with the lads.

Emma sent another text an hour later, when the first had still gone unanswered.

Just checking you’re okay, Jones. Let me know you got home safely, please.

Half an hour later there was still no reply and a little ball of anxiety set root in Emma’s stomach.

Jones, are you okay?

By 6pm, Emma was starting to fret. Killian’s radio silence continued. Her multiple text messages remained ignored or unseen, and there was still no tick mark to show that he had read the messages on Whatsapp. Facebook Messenger showed that he had been active 6 hours ago. He was tagged in a post by his friend Robin, who had indeed been out for pints with some of their mutual friends, and remarked on his unexpected absence. Clearly he had planned to meet them for drinks and hadn’t shown. That didn’t necessarily mean anything; he might have cancelled on them a couple of days ago. He might have met up with other people for a drink instead. Even so the knot in her stomach tightened, the longer he stayed out of contact. She called his number but it went straight to voicemail.

‘Killian, I’m starting to worry. Call me, please.’

Under other circumstances Emma would think nothing of him being out of contact for a few hours. It was partly because she knew that the storm winds were building, he had said that London would be getting the brunt of it about now. It was also because they had agreed to speak later on, and she expected him to be around by now. Something didn’t feel right about this. He wouldn’t have agreed to speak later if he was going out for the evening, besides he had said he was just popping out. That implied that he would be returning home within an hour or so. It had been 8 hours.

The minutes and hours ticked by slowly, and Emma’s apprehension steadily increased. When she wasn’t searching the internet for news updates in the UK she was pacing her apartment and working her way through a bottle of wine. She almost sent Robin a message at one point to see if he knew where Killian was, but then stopped herself as she didn’t know him and it felt a little too much in the realms of clingy girlfriend. Wait, what? She wasn’t Killian’s girlfriend so why would she even be thinking of herself in those terms? And as for clingy. Emma didn’t do clingy. She was fiercely independent.

It must be the wine talking.

When midnight approached with still no word, Emma reluctantly decided to go to call it a night, although she very much doubted that she would sleep a wink. Setting an alarm so that she could try and find out what had happened to Killian first thing in the morning, she climbed into bed. She sent one last text and then turned out the light.

Merry Christmas, Killian, hope you are okay. Thinking of you x

Her phone buzzing on the nightstand woke her from a rapidly fading dream that hazily seemed to involve someone who looked a lot like Killian and a hell of a lot of kissing. She groaned, telling herself that the dream was simply a manifestation of worrying about him all day. Although, she had to admit that making out with him in her dream had certainly been enjoyable. Something to dwell upon to later. Why was she awake? Her phone, right. What time was it?

Emma reached across and grabbed her phone. 2.07am. Who was sending messages at this hour?

I’m so sorry for worrying you, Emma. I’ve just got your messages and missed calls. I promise I will explain everything when you wake up in a few hours x

Where are you, Killian? What the hell happened? Are you okay?

Sorry for waking you. I’m fine. Honestly. You should go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.

No way, buddy. I’m wide awake. I’ve been so worried. Let’s talk now.

Whilst all of Killian’s previous texts had followed quickly on from hers, Emma got no response to her last message. She had felt enormous relief when she saw the first text from him but now the anxiety of the afternoon and evening returned quickly as something felt off, once again.

Fifteen minutes later, as she sat in bed scrolling through news feeds again, her phone finally rang.

‘Killian?’

‘Sorry again, Swan. I wasn’t expecting you to be awake and was in the middle of something so couldn’t call right away.’

‘Where were you yesterday? I was so worried! I thought something had happened, that you had been injured in the storm.’ She could feel herself starting to ramble. ‘I checked every UK news site I could find to see if there were any updates.’

‘Emma…’

‘I almost got in touch with Robin to see if he knew anything, and I probably would have done that in the morning if there was still no word from you.’

‘Emma love…’ Killian tried to interrupt again.

‘And I know that maybe that would have been overkill, but I was so worried! So tell me, what happened to you yesterday? Where did you go?’

‘I promise I can explain and I will, in detail. You know, you really should get the security door to your apartment block looked at, love. Anyone can get into the building.’

‘What does that have to do with anything? And how would you know that? Killian, where are you?’ Emma stood up ready to begin pacing again if she didn’t get answers soon.

There was a soft knock on her front door.

‘Is that? Was that? What the hell is going on Killian?’

‘Open the door, love, please.’

Emma dropped her phone onto the bed and ran to the front door. Pulling it open she was stunned to find Killian Jones standing before her, his phone still pressed to his ear and a small suitcase at his feet. Without giving it a second thought Emma dragged him into the apartment, wrapped her arms around him and peppered his face with kisses, causing him to chuckle. The sound brought her back to her senses and she pulled back, punching him hard on the shoulder.

‘That was for worrying me.’

‘Ouch! Okay, I know I deserved that. Talk about a warm welcome. Or at least the part before the violence was warm!’ He smiled nervously and his hand rose up to scratch behind his ear as he rocked back on his heels.

‘How are you here? Actually no, hang on a second, don’t answer that yet!’ Emma pinched her arm, and then rubbed her eyes. ‘Just checking that I am actually awake.’

She looked Killian up and down. He was definitely better looking in the flesh than on her screen. His raven black hair was all disheveled, his eyes a crystalline blue, slightly red rimmed and he looked about as tired as she felt. His stubble ran down his neck, drawing her eyes to the tufts of chest hair poking out the top of his grey henley. His black jeans were tight, and, - no. She stopped herself. Eyes back up - she absolutely wasn’t looking at how well fitting they were.

‘Is it okay that I’m here?’ Killian asked, looking more anxious than she have ever seen him in their hundreds of video calls.

‘Yes, yes, of course. It’s just a surprise you know?’ Emma started walking towards the sitting room, ‘Come on through, take a seat.’ She gestured to the couch in front of them. I’m just going to grab my robe. Be right back.

Dashing to her bedroom, Emma closed the door behind her and leaned back against it. All of her earlier worries had been replaced with deep relief and what might be joy. She had so many questions, but at least Killian was safe and well. And here in her apartment. In Boston. Her best friend was from London was here in Boston in the middle of the night. Oh good grief she’d kissed him. That was going to be awkward to move on from. Taking a deep breath she grabbed her robe, and hoped that it would cover the blush that had crept across her chest in the last five minutes. She looked herself over in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair to try and comb out some of the bed-head tangles, then returned to the living room to her unexpected yet very welcome guest.

As she approached, Killian grinned over at her and patted the couch beside him for her to sit. ‘Has the shock worn off yet, Swan?’

‘Kinda,’ she answered with a hesitant smile, settling herself at the other end of the couch and making sure to keep a gap between them. ‘So are you going to tell me how on earth you are here instead of London?’

He scratched behind his ear again. ‘It was supposed to be a surprise. Which, I guess, it still is. But I promise you, it wasn’t supposed to cause you so much worry in the process.’ Killian started to reach across to touch her arm, but then seemed to think better of it and ran his hand through his hair instead.

Emma inched a little closer and nodded for him to continue.

‘When I called you yesterday afternoon and told you I was in a train station, I was actually just arriving at the airport. I had hoped we could have a full conversation while I was en route to Heathrow and then the next thing you would have known I’d have been arriving at your door sometime around 8.30pm your time.’

‘It’s nearly 3am, you’re more than 6 hours late.’ Emma gasped, ‘I’m guessing the plan derailed then? I have so many questions!’ She pulled her knees up to her chest and leant towards him intrigued.

‘And I will answer them all, but yes the plan went somewhat awry. The weather was awful, and we couldn’t hear each other, so there was no way I could stand outside the airport. I thought that once I had gone through check-in I could call you again from the departure lounge, and then let you know that I’d be out of contact for a few hours.’

‘But you didn’t.’ Emma murmured.

Killian winced. ‘Sadly, no. The incoming storm played havoc with my signal. I had wi-fi for a short while I was still in the concourse but for some reason not at the departure gate, which was how come I only managed to reply to some of your first messages.’

‘Ok, that explains how come you went quiet on me for the first few hours, but that doesn’t account for the missing 6 hours!’ Emma reached across and laid her hand on his knee. ‘I can’t begin to explain how worried I was about you.’

‘I have an inkling, love.’ He put his hand on top of hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Their eyes met, Killian’s expression was hopeful and as Emma held his gaze she wondered if he might perhaps be feeling the same way she was. There had to be a reason for him sitting on her couch at this unearthly hour on Christmas morning.

‘So,’ she said putting an end to whatever moment they were having. ‘Those six hours?’

‘Ah yes. The plane was an hour and a half late in boarding. Then there was a problem with the air-conditioning unit, so we had to wait for an engineer to fix it before take off. And then because we had been so delayed already, I guess we had to wait for a new runway slot. We took off nearly four hours later than scheduled in the end. The flight finally landed around midnight. It wasn’t until I got on the plane that I realised that both my phone charger and my power bank were packed in my hold luggage rather than my carry on, so even though I would have had signal again when we arrived I still couldn’t get in touch as my battery was completely flat. I wanted to let you know what was happening, I hope you believe that.’

Emma nodded, ‘I do.’ She smiled. ‘That takes up until midnight. There’s still a two hour gap.’

‘I said that we landed at midnight, Swan, I didn’t say we got off the plane then!’ He chuckled. ‘It took another 45 minutes before we could taxi along to the arrival gate. And then there was another delay waiting for backs to be unloaded. When I sent that message after 2, I’d just walked through customs.’

‘Wow, some journey! And I haven’t even offered you a drink. I’m a terrible host.’ She stood up and walked to the kitchen area on the other side the room. I’d offer you coffee but that’s probably not wise at this time of night. Hot chocolate? I might be able to manage tea, I think.’

‘Hot chocolate will be fine, love.’ Killian joined her in the kitchen, watching in amusement as she darted between cupboards and the fridge finding the necessary ingredients, a nervous energy radiating off her. She could feel his eyes boring into her, but she didn’t dare ask her next question, trepidation filling her about what the answer would be.

‘I can hear you thinking, Swan.’

Emma turned to him. ‘It’s just... I know how you got here, but I still don’t know why.’

Killian took a step towards her and reached round to turn the hob off under the milk. Gently he pulled her into his arms and walked them back a couple of steps, away from the stove until they were leaning against the breakfast bar.

‘Do you really not know why?’ Emma shook her head, digging her teeth into her bottom lip as she looked up at him. She swallowed, deciding to take a leap of faith.

‘I have an idea, but I guess I don’t dare let myself believe it.’

‘Well, love, let me tell you then. When we spoke on Saturday you were so sad that my heart broke for you. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around you, kiss you and make you feel safe and loved.’

‘So you flew halfway round the world?’

‘So I flew halfway round the world, to spend Christmas with you. It was risky, I know, given that you might not feel as I do.’ Emma’s breath caught as he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear as he spoke. ‘But I realised that Christmas should be spent with the people that mean the most to us, the ones we love. And so here I am.’

‘You love me?’

‘Aye.’ he breathed.

‘Good.’ Emma smiled, tears glistening in her eyes and her heart trying to beat it’s way out of her chest.

Killian stroked his thumb across her cheek and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips softly against hers. As kisses go, Emma thought it might be one of the best in her entire life. It was was perfect, sweet and tender with a promise of more to come. As they separated, she sighed contentedly.

‘Happy Christmas Swan.’

‘Happy Christmas Jones.’

#csss #cs secret santa #christmas fic

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kimroswoon-blog · 7 years ago

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Movie Night - Rowoon x Reader

Title: Movie Night Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1.1K Summary: Typical movie night spent with chick flicks, action movies, and...the friendly neighborhood penguin?

Requests are open!

“What do you want to watch tonight?” you asked, lazily scrolling through the movies on Netflix. It had been quite a quiet evening spent with your boyfriend. Though the two of you usually enjoyed going out and finding fun things to do, it was a nice change of pace to just chill in front of a TV for the night.

Rowoon yawned and stretched his arms above his head before he replied. “I don’t care what it is.” He could feel the dark bags underneath his tired eyes and he knew that he most likely wouldn’t last through the entirety of the movie before knocking out anyway.

You nodded, happy with being given the power to watch whatever it was your heart desired. However, still being considerate of the fact that your boyfriend most likely didn’t enjoy tear-jerking chick flicks, you chose a simple action movie instead. You thought maybe it would keep him interested enough to stay awake a little longer.

However, not even twenty minutes into the movie and you could hear little snores coming from Rowoon’s end of the couch. Looking over at your boyfriend, you couldn’t stop the smile on your face as you admired his beautiful sleeping form.

Deciding to just let him rest, you lowered the volume of the TV and grabbed another blanket to put on top of him. Turning your attention back to the movie, you realized that you were not very interested in the plotline at all. The only reason you had even chose it was because you thought it would keep Rowoon awake, but now that he had fallen asleep, there was no reason you couldn’t watch what you really wanted to.

You grinned to yourself as you scrolled through the movie titles, knowing just exactly what you were in the mood for.

Rowoon awoke to the sound of…children laughing? Was he still dreaming? Last time he checked, he and his girlfriend most definitely did not have any children that would be running around the apartment laughing, especially not at this hour.

He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision and the first thing he saw was his girlfriend sitting on the floor, a blanket wrapped completely around her like a burrito, a big smile on her face.

The second thing he saw was the Pororo movie playing on their TV.

Rowoon’s eyebrows raised, and he was about to comment on his girlfriend’s…interesting choice in movie, but he realized that she hadn’t noticed he had woken up yet, so he decided to just watch for a little while.

It was funny, he thought, how completely composed and mature and reserved his girlfriend was normally and in front of other people. But now, sitting in front of the TV watching her favorite movie about the friendly neighborhood penguin, she looked just like a child.

You looked so innocent, so different from your usual self. It was quite endearing to see this vulnerable and childlike side of you that he rarely ever got to see. You were usually so careful around him, even more so because of his job, and you rarely, if ever, let your guard down, even when it was just the two of you.

Music started to play on the movie, and you started to hum along, as if you had watched the movie a million times before – which you have (but you would never let him know that).

He couldn’t help himself. You were just so…cute. Before he could stop himself, a small chuckle escaped his lips, and his cover was blown. You whipped your head around quickly and scrambled for the remote to turn the movie off. You were acting as if he had just caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.

“I thought you were sleeping,” you said casually as you stood up and brushed yourself off, acting as if he hadn’t just caught you watching the most embarrassing thing.

Rowoon chuckled again and adjusted his position so he was sitting up and facing you. “I was,” he started to say, “but something woke me up.”

“Hmm,” you hummed uninterestedly as you sat down next to him. “I wonder what it was.”

He didn’t know why you were so embarrassed. There was nothing wrong with enjoying a children’s movie every once in a while. In fact, he found it quite adorable.

“So, I see you like Pororo?” he asked cheekily, a teasing smile on his face. You gave him a look of pure iciness but that didn’t stop him, it never did.

You stayed quiet, the only indication that you even heard his question was you purposefully moving yourself farther away from him on the couch.

Rowoon only laughed loudly at this. “Aw, come on, there’s nothing wrong with that,” he said. He scooted closer to you, suddenly pulling you into an unwilling embrace. However, as much as you were embarrassed, you found yourself unwittingly relaxing into his arms.

“Stop being so self-conscious about little things,” he said softly, stroking your hair as he spoke to you. “I think it’s quite cute that you still like to watch children’s movies.”

“I’m not self-conscious about it,” you said slowly, but even you weren’t convinced with your words.

Chuckling, Rowoon said, “For somehow who isn’t self-conscious about it, you sure did turn that TV off fast.” You didn’t reply and instead tried to squirm yourself out of his arms. But your strength was no match to his and he wasn’t planning on letting you go for long. “I’m seriously not making fun of you,” he said, making sure you knew that his teasing was good natured. “I honestly find it cute.”

“It was my favorite movie as a kid…” You muttered, still not convinced. You were still extremely embarrassed that he had caught you in such a state.

“It was mine too,” he said suddenly, surprising you. You turned your head around to look at him. You were sure he was just saying that to appease you, but from the kind look on his face, he was being serious. Seeing your skeptical look, he explained, “I’m not lying. I used to watch Pororo every day when I would come home from school.”

With a small smile, you admitted that you had done that exact same thing as well.

“Well,” he said, grabbing the remote and turning the TV back on, “how about we finish the movie together then?”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that appeared on your face as you nodded. And as you immediately began to fill Rowoon in on what he missed while he was asleep as well as start queuing up the other Pororo episodes and movies, Rowoon wondered what he had gotten himself into.

Two hours and one and a half seasons of Pororo later, he realized he probably should have just pretended to stay asleep earlier. But as you turned to him, telling him that the next episode was one of your favorites (just like all the ones before it), he couldn’t help but smile and tell you to go ahead and play it anyway.

#sf9 #sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 drabbles #kim rowoon #rowoon #sf9s

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 67

In theory this was queued to post at 2pm EST today... so, 4.5 hours ago. I am SO SORRY it didn’t post on time!

I’m baaaaack!

The break after the holiday was very much needed, so thank you for your patience with no chapter last week. Taking the time helped me level-set a few things and get back to a good place with this.

Also! This chapter has been beta’d, once again, by the fabulous @satan-parisienne. What I would do without her is a mystery of the universe some days.

I’ve received some very curious and polite feedback about how out-of-character some of the main characters have behaved in this arc - I have the nicest readers, ever, I swear! - and I wanted to let everyone know that it’s actually intentional. I wanted to show them fraying at the edges a bit, showing various levels of cranky from feeling the effects. Something true-to-life, in my experience.

Trigger warnings: Mention of sorta-suicide in this chapter. About as much as that sentence, honestly.

As soon as Conor heard that our microscopic new friend was safe for the time being, he gave Maverick very stern instructions to make sure I lied down and did not try to sit back up once I had done so. While one of my partners gently but firmly ensured just that, the other started dragging an empty berth until it was pressed directly against my own. Rapidly, and with focused determination, he rigged the two together so they would not move apart – although, given the sheer weight of the berth, I was surprised he moved it in the first place.

Miys seemed to understand entirely what Conor was up to, as it very gently lifted me and placed me in the center of the combined platforms, carefully ensuring any tubes were tucked where they could not be pulled loose or crimped. Before I realized exactly what had happened, I was sandwiched between Conor and Maverick, their own transfusion ports reconnected.

Gently, I tried to loosen the arms both of them had thrown across my stomach. “I’m not trying to get up, I promise. But I need to breathe, you two.”

“Sleep,” Maverick mumbled in my right ear, the one that could still hear. “You promised lots sleep.”

“Else – “

Conor sat up slightly, leaning on his elbow so I could see his face and read his lips. “You’ve been debriefed. And you heard Xio as well as the rest of us: Else is sentient, so killing them is off the table. You promised.”

Picking my head up slightly, I dropped it as dramatically as possible and huffed. “You’re right. I did promise. I’m just worried.”

“Worried for a bacteria that could potentially kill you.”

Conor chuckled. “That’s her nature, mate. Forgiving as the moonlight, dancing on water, our Sophie.” Gently, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I bet you’ve already forgiven us, too.”

“You were scared – “

“So were you,” Maverick argued mournfully. “And we still stormed out of here.”

I tried to stifle the yawn that crept up on me, but judging by the looks I got, I was unsuccessful. “Can we table this until I wake up again? Or until this crisis is over, just before the next one.”

“No more crises,” he mumbled into my neck, burrowing as deep as a grown man possibly could.

“If only,” I sighed. “That would be nice. But a nap sounds nice, too.”

“Lots of sleep, you promised.”

I nodded. “I did.” Glancing at Conor, I nodded again. That seemed to satisfy him, because he dropped off his elbow, grabbed the knee Maverick had hooked over my hips, and proceeded to do his part to pin me to the bed.

“I’m gonna snore, you two,” I complained weakly.

“Least we know you’re asleep if you’re snoring.”

“As opposed to awake?”

“As opposed to dead if you three don’t shut up,” Tyche’s voice called from across the room. I was extremely grateful she couldn’t see past the shaggy head of black hair that was hiding my blush from her.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed vaguely. I could remember seeing the Ark again, this time in the best shape it had been in yet. Else spoke to me, but I could only recall that they sounded tired, frail. I’m worried about you, I remembered telling them. They already knew. They were worried about us, about humanity.

I woke, eventually, and I immediately recognized two distinct sensations. First, I was incredibly well-rested, more than I could say I had been since before the Food Festival. My body practically sizzled with unfamiliar energy and begged to move.

Second, I felt an overwhelming amount of dread. Something terrible was happening, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I sat bolt upright, belatedly realizing that I was no longer being cuddled to the bed. “Where is Grey?” I gasped, looking around wildly. “Xiomara, anyone. I need a member of the Council. Or Tyche.” In my panic, my eyes were entirely unseeing, and I jerked violently when I felt something touch my hand.

“Wisdom.” A familiar buzz brought me into focus. Miys had one liw on my hand, another on my shoulder. “You must calm yourself. No one is in any danger. Antoine is retrieving Xiomara as I speak to you.”

“Thank you,” I panted. Pulling my free hand to my chest in an attempt to calm my breathing, I bruised my sternum with the sheer amount of force I used. “What in the – “ Staring down, I felt my eyes start to hurt with the effort of opening even wider. “That hurt.”

Gingerly, I held my hand out, turning it back and forth, flexing my fingers, trying to figure out what was different. “Bones and ligaments, check,” I muttered to myself. “Five fingers, palm, wrist, check. Whopped up bruises, check…” Something caught my eye – or rather failed to – and I held up my arm further, looking at the crook of my elbow. Bruised. A glance at my other arm showed more mottling. Frantic, I carefully patted my body down as quickly as I could without hurting myself. A few more bruises made themselves known.

The bruises weren’t the alarming part… “Where are the transfusion ports?”

“They have been removed, Wisdom. You no longer need them.”

“Am I dying?”

A humming, clicking noise that I was pretty sure involved profanity followed. “You are not always dying, despite what Human Conor seems to believe.”

Human Conor. Someone was on Miys’s bad side. “Am I dying at this moment?”

“No, Wisdom. You are not. Your red blood cell and hemoglobin count are well within range for a Terran, and have been for quite some time – “

“How long?”

Wringing vomu were not a good sign. “I would prefer to let Antoine and Xiomara explain that.”

“How long, Noah!?”

The door hissed as my fellow Councilor breezed in, followed by a very concerned Antoine. “Oh, for about two days,” Xiomara answered airily.

“WHAT!?” I squawked elegantly.

She whirled around on me about the time Antoine came to check my vitals. “No one could wake you up, bonehead. So, before you get mad at us for drugging you, or not waking you, or some crap like that, we tried. You were barely not in a coma, woman. We didn’t drug you, and gods above and below know we tried our damnedest to wake you.”

I glanced at Antoine, who was nodding furiously. Mollified, I made a point to tone it down a notch. “So, I was asleep for two entire days?”

“More like four, sweetie,” she grinned unrepentantly. “You were ‘clinically exhausted’, which I didn’t even know was a thing…”

Her eyes widened comically as I waved her off. “Eyeah, it’s a thing. Feels like the flu. Nothing new.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Antoine sent a Tyche-level cutting look at her. “I told you that it was in her file.”

“I thought you meant the current situation.”

“I TOLD you she has a history of this!”

Tears pricked my eyes as I turned to face him fully. “You didn’t let them give me medication to wake me up, did you?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, his eyes kind and giving lie to the harshness of his comment. “Conor and Maverick were right about you needing sleep. I made sure to tell them as much so they would be as insufferable as possible about allowing you to sleep.”

“Sneaky motherfucker,” I whispered with a smile, earning myself a conspiratorial wink.

Xiomara rolled her eyes at our antics. “Anyway, you called us here for a reason…?”

Sitting up abruptly, I narrowly missed headbutting my favorite nurse on several worlds. “Something is wrong.” I waved off the inevitable request for clarity. “Not all of us being sick, or Else eating all the iron in sight. I talked to Else while I was asleep, and I don’t remember much, but they are weak. Frail is the word I remember saying. I know I told them I was worried for them, but when they responded, they said they were worried for us. They sounded like they were… dying, honestly…”

“No one has taken action against them,” Xiomara asserted. “Even Grey. Once you fell asleep, Grey was frustrated that we had to wait to negotiate with Else, but made no further attempts to eradicate them.”

”How sure are you?”

“Pretty sure, considering they have been holed up in their office since then, trying to determine logical alternatives such as relocation.”

That tracked. Grey was like logic made into an organic body, usually. “Then how am I getting better?”

Xiomara shrugged and looked to Antoine. He gave us each a regretful look and shook his head. “We do not know. It is not only you, but everyone on the Ark who is improving. We do not know why.”

My mind raced, feverishly looking for an answer. “Nixe. How is Nixe?” I demanded.

“Out of her life support tank, being transfused regularly. Noah is working to clone new lungs,” Xiomara reassured me.

“They didn’t want to hurt anyone,” I whispered, but Xio caught Antoine looking at me strangely. I spoke up. “Else didn’t want anyone to die. They didn’t want to hurt anyone, they said. They were sorry.” I gasped and tried to get out of my berth, but Antoine firmly pushed me back and shook his head. “Don’t you two see what Else is doing?” I repressed a groan as both of them only returned my question with confused looks. “Noah! Noah, you have to know what I’m referring to. If your use of resources hinders the life of another being, what do you do?”

“I place my bodies in hibernation until equilibrium is reached.”

“And when your race couldn’t place itself in hibernation, what did it do when resources were strained?” I hoped and prayed I got the answer I was expecting, but prepared myself for the instance I had to argue.

Fortune favors the bold, it turned out, and Noah told me exactly what I anticipated. “My kind would return our bodies to the soil, Wisdom.”

Xiomara looked frustrated, but Antoine gasped and covered his mouth. When she gave him a confused look, he actually groaned. “Killing themselves, Xiomara. They killed the extra bodies to maintain ecostasis. They aren’t individuals, so it isn’t really suicide, but they still killed the necessary amount of bodies to reduce resource demands.”

“Except Else isn’t as evolved as the Hujylsogox are,” I continued. “There is a possibility that, once they reach a certain point, they aren’t sentient anymore.”

“So, they can just grow more, right?”

I shook my head emphatically. “They may not be the same being anymore – Antoine! I’m fine! This is urgent! – If they drop below threshold and then essentially re-evolve, we have no guarantee that we are parleying with the same group. They could hate us for all we know, if that happens.”

Realization dawned on her face. “We have to do something.”

I nodded in grim confirmation. “I need an open channel to the Council, and I need it right fucking now. We have to figure out a solution that doesn’t result in giving PTSD to a bacteria that can easily kill us.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #science fiction #original writing #aliens #plague #tw: suicide #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #fiction #scifi

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