#sorry to my followers i keep posting these word dumps on mobile | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tomtenadia · 4 years

Text

Island Dreams - Chapter 12

Hello lovlies,

here we are with chapter 12. This should be, according to my plans, the last of the very angsty chapters. Now things should start to head towards fluff. I kinda plotted the ideas for all chapters and in a moment of inspiration I wrote a moment with plenty of fluff. They are getting there. Also, please don't hate Elias. He loves her. He really does. They are both just very impulsive.

At the very beginning Rowan says "mo chridhe" well, I am not going to give you a translation this time. Aelin will discover its meaning in the next chapter. You just have to sit tight a bit longer.

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

Days rolled over quickly and Aelin’s d-day had eventually arrived. It was the day she was meant to meet with Elias. She had been nervous and in a bad mood since she had received the message and didn’t get any closer to figuring out a way to let the man down gently.

So that morning she had woken up as usual, scoffed the remnants of the chocolate cake she had bought from Maeve’s and tried to instil in herself the idea that everything will be okay. Rowan had given her again the morning off and she was quite happy since she had to go and get herself a laptop. She was quite serious in her goal of finding a job as a doctor on the islands and she definitely needed her own computer.

Elias had kindly recommended her a place in town and she decided she could go on foot. The day was going to be nice again and she craved the fresh air. With the address in her hands she was surprised that she found it without the need of the GPS on her phone and happiness took her at the realisation that she was getting very familiar with the town. A few more years, she told her herself, and I will be a local. Elias had been amazing as his usual and had given her some info on what to look for in a laptop and she was grateful for his help and felt horrible at the idea of how much pain she was going to cause him. Half an hour later she had a box under her arm and she was on her way to the bookshop. She missed Rowan. “Madainn mhath!” She greeted him with a huge smile, her mood suddenly improving at the sight of him. That day he was wearing a green hoodie that almost matched his eyes and her heart skipped a beat. “Madainn mhath, mo chridhe.” Aelin walked to him and dumped her box on the floor “What was the last part?” Rowan’s face turned red at the realisation that he had spoken too much “It means my menace.” He lied and she knew it. She was still learning Gaelic, but she had a feeling he had used a term of endearment. It was the loving tone and the hint of a smile that betrayed him. She just had to try and figure out the meaning on her own. Problem was she had no idea how to write down the word. In her basic lessons of Gaelic from Rowan she had soon realised that often Gaelic would pronounce far less letters than the ones written down and some sounds were not written the way she thought. “Sure, keep your secrets.” Gently she poked him on the shoulder. A totally pointless gesture. Given his muscles he probably didn’t even feel her. “What do you have there?” He pointed at the box. “I bought a laptop. You know… for work stuff…” grabbing her belongings she went for his office where she got ready for another day. Nervousness knotted her stomach. After the day had spent gallivanting around a part of Scotland she felt as if the energy between them had shifted again and she had no idea how to address it. “I phoned back the school and I told them that I will give it a try.” He said calmly while typing away on the keyboard. Aelin stared at him amazed “Ro, it’s wonderful.” And she meant it. He nodded timidly. “You don’t seem convinced.” She moved a step closer and her hand landed on his arm and the tightness in her chest loosened a bit when he did not shy away from that contact. He shook his head “I am okay. I really like the idea. It’s just the whole going back to a swimming pool without competing it feels alien.” “I am freaking out about the idea of going back to work in an hospital.” she confessed knowing exactly where he was coming from. The idea of being a doctor again was wonderful but a part of her was terrified at the idea that what happened in London might have broken her completely. He looked at her in understanding. “When it happens, you will be incredible.” He finally looked at her and she noticed the sincerity of his words in his eyes. “Sure, Buzzard, but for now I want to redo the whole fantasy section. It’s bugging me and we need a new display.” And she crossed her arms at her chest “You finish that paperwork. I am on a mission.” She added cracking her hands and marching to her favourite corner of the bookshop. Rowan laughed and kissed her head “Go, have fun.” In response she gave him a grin. Ten minutes later all the books were on the floor, the shelves in the Fantasy section were empty and Aelin was sitting down on the floor reading a book. “You are supposed to organise them and put them back, not read them.” Rowan admonished her from the counter. “Shhh… I am in the zone.” “No you are in the way.” And with his head he pointed at a couple of customers. “I am sorry,” she apologised jumping back on her feet “I am redoing this section. If you need any help, let me know, please.” “We were looking for the fiction section.” Aelin walked them to the correct area “If you need any recommendations, Rowan is your man.” The couple thanked them and she went back to her job. She picked up the book she was reading and gave it to Rowan, “set it aside. I am buying it later.” “You are just as bad as me.” “That’s why you love me.” Shit. “I meany you love working with me.” She corrected herself but the damage was done. So far, their plan of taking it slow did not include using the l-word. Yet. “Who told you I love working with you? Look at the mess you make of my poor books.” He pretended to be stern but she noticed the light in his eyes and the very slight uptick on the right side of his lips. He was trying not to laugh. “I should really start calling you menace instead of Fireheart.” Aelin stuck her tongue out and went back to work. It took her a few hours but the shelves were now more to her liking and she took a step back to admire her work. Rowan joined her to have a look at her project. “Right here in the centre at eye level I placed the book of the month. The two red bars at its side bring it out to attention and the plastic holder underneath has a message that says something about the book and entices the potential reader.” She explained to him “we should have more around the shop. More book recommendations.” Then she took a photo with her mobile “And this will be our official social media post. “I love it.” “And I am amazing.” He laughed “you are amazing.” His arms went around her waist. The two customer had paid and left and they were alone so he could let himself go with a bit of PDA. She stared up at him and his heart began racing and in that exact moment she decided to lean against his chest and hoped she could not hear his heart pumping hard “I love your hoodie.” “Well, you can’t have this one. Buy your own one.” She caressed his pecs and felt his muscles underneath “But if I buy my own one than it won’t smell like you.” Rowan’s hand went onto hers “You buy one, then I will wear it so it smells like me. How does it sound?” “Pinky promise?”she lifted her hand with her pinky extended. “What are you? Five?” She looked at him with puppy eyes and he rolled his in acceptance. “Fine.” He yielded. “Pinky promise.” He was doomed. He was so madly in love with her that he would even swear a pinky promise just to see her give him the smile that would melt his heart. “Ro?” He looked down to her while never breaking their embrace. “You know I have dinner with Elias tonight.” Rowan’s body went rigid. She had mentioned that. She had explained to him why she had to do it and although he had supported her, he had openly admitted to her that he was jealous. He wanted her to dump the guy and screw his feeling, but that was not what Aelin wanted. And doing that would make her miserable and that’s the last thing he wanted. “I remember.” That’s all he could muster. “And you are mad at me.” “I am not. I told you.” She pulled away from him and he missed the contact with her body. “I need to do this, okay? You know I have to do this if we want to… well… whatever is the next step in our relationship.” She sounded almost hurt and it broke his heart. “Aelin, I know. And I am not mad.” He pulled her to him again “I am just being selfish and a lot jealous.” “I don’t love him, Ro.” I love you, you idiot. “But I owe him. He has always been nice to me and he deserves the truth.” “I know.” He kissed her temple “I know.” They pulled apart as soon as they heard a customer enter the shop. The rest of the afternoon continued with them adding suggestions around the shop and Rowan beginning to post confidently on the shop’s Facebook page about all the books of the months they had chosen. Aelin had told him they already had five followers, but he had no idea what she was talking about, he just trusted her. “Go home.” He had told her later on that evening “You need to get ready.” “I can stay.” But he shook his head. “We are closing in an hour anyway. I will be okay.” She kissed his cheek “I will see you tomorrow.” He bushed her hand in response “I trust you.” She nodded, collected all of her stuff and left.

Aelin got home from the shop a bit early so she could have the time to take a shower and get properly dressed. She pulled off Rowan’s hoodie and stopped thinking about his expression when she reminded him that she was going out with Elias. He was aware that she wanted to let the man down gently and Rowan in the end understood. I trust you he had told her before letting her go. Aelin had been grateful for that week that Elias had been away because she had the chance to analyse her feeling, her growing feelings for Rowan. They had the best time together and she longed for the moment she would stop feeling like she was cheating on Elias every time she touched Rowan. She needed closure, but she also had to do it in a way not to break the man’s heart. At 7pm Elias rang the bell to her house and when she opened the door he was standing in front of her. He had a pair of jeans on, a shirt and a blue jumper on top of it, looking neat and very charming. But the pang of attraction she had felt at the beginning was not there anymore. She, had opted for a smart casual attire as well, not wanting to dress up too much and give the wrong idea. “Hi you.” His expression lit up with one of his bright and dazzling smile while his arm went around her waist pulling her close for a quick kiss that she allowed. “I hope you like seafood.” Aelin nodded scared about what emotions her voice would betray. “Then let’s go.” Once outside she noticed his car was not around. “We are walking,” he said when he noticed her looking for the vehicle. His hand was extended in front of him and she took it very reluctantly. “How…” she stumbled on her words “How was Glasgow.” “I love the city, but work was so boring but I had to do it. I spent the week in never-ending meetings. And missed you of course.” He squeezed the hand. “How was yours?” Shit. “Fine, I have been working at the bookshop and on Saturday and Sunday I was out exploring.” “Have you been somewhere nice?” Lie. Lie, her brain kept telling her. “On Sunday I went across the water to Ullapool and drove around a bit. I was reading my guide on Saturday evening and when it seemed doable I just went for it.” And she hoped he believed her. “I wish I could have come with you, I know the area very well.” So does Rowan. Ten minutes later they reached the restaurant: the Harbour kitchen, apparently a great place for seafood freshly caught. Or at least that was what the locals said. Elias had reserved a table and when it was time to sit down he was a proper gentleman and pulled the chair out for her “M’lady…” He sat down as well and the waiter brought the menu while Elias ordered a bottle of wine. “You drink, don’t you?” Aelin nodded. She looked at the menu and the food sounded amazing. ‘This is one of my favourite places, the food here is great.” She could see the joy in him. She kept her gaze on the menu, using the excuse she could not make up her mind. They were silent for a moment and she welcome the respite. How was she supposed to break up with him? Did she just tell him whatever there was between it was over? That she loved Rowan? She almost growled. She hadn’t been able to speak to Lysandra and now she had no idea on how to do it properly. “Aelin?” She looked up and noticed that the waiter was there at her side. Apologising, she placed her order and Elias extended his arm and placed his hand on hers on the table and she almost flinched. “How is the bookshop?” He asked and she noticed that it costed him to show interest in something he had clearly admitted to be against. “Busy. I have set up Rowan with a Facebook page and Instagram fro the shop and we are working on online ordering. Plus, tourist season has started, so nice and busy.” Her tone was flat and he noticed it. “You seem pretty invested in that shop.”and there it was, his hate for the choice she had made of working there instead of going back to her old job. A waste he had called it. “Just helping a friend.” And she looked outside the window ignoring his gaze. Ignoring the pain his words were causing. “Sounds like is not a good business manager if he needs a doctor to help him.” Aelin grabbed her glass and took a sip of the wine to try and hide her gritted teeth. What happened to the nice guy she met on the beach? Jealousy, her brain told her. “He just doesn’t use Facebook. Some people don’t feel the need to be on social media and there is nothing wrong with it.” She might have uttered those words with a bit more venom than intended. At her sharp tone his hand clench a little in annoyance and he was about to add another snarky remark when their food arrived and she thanked that now she had an excuse to stay in silence at least for a while. This was not going well, but he was clearly insulting Rowan and his job and she could not allow that. “Are you enjoying the food?” He added after five minutes of neither of them uttering a word. His tone had lost the loving edge it had when they first arrived. “Yeah, it’s nice.” Her response was almost devoid of all emotions. ‘What?” He asked when he noticed her reaction “Are you mad at me because I insulted you book buddy?” Aelin grabbed the glass and almost threw it in his face and stormed out of the restaurant but she could not cause a scene. So she breathed in and counted till 10 “Just tired.” “I have been looking forward to see you for days. I was not expecting this.” He whispered through gritted teeth. “I am sorry I forgot my red carpet and the roses, your highness, I am ready for my ten lashes.” And the fire-bitch queen, as Chaol used to call her, was back in full swing. Good job, Aelin. She hated the words as soon as they left her mouth. But the damage was done and once again she was going to pay for her inability to filter her thoughts before talking. She had not meant to fight with him, but apparently fate had other plans in mind for her. She was so tired of fighting. “You are not yourself tonight. Is it because of him?” Elias was jealous, that was blatantly clear. She might have been impulsive, but he had been downright arrogant. “I told you I am tired.” And she slammed her fork on the plate a bit too hard. “Well, take a day off. I am sure book boy can work on his own for a day.” Aelin stood and grabbed her bag.”You know what?” She whispered trying not to cause a scene. “If you can’t talk about Rowan without insulting him, we are done here.” She was about to leave when he grabbed her wrist but she pulled free and left the restaurant.

Elias went to pay quickly and ran after her “Aelin.” He shouted a few times but she ignored him. Eventually he caught up and gently grabbed her writs “Aelin…” his tone suddenly much more gentle than what had been in the restaurant. He had behaved horribly. All he wanted was a nice night with her. However, he could not forget that he had spent a whole week agonising over the fact that she was alone in the shop with Rowan and it drove him mad because, yes, he was so damn jealous. “I am so sorry.” When she turned Elias noticed she was in tears and his heart sank “Elias this is not working.” She blurted out while sobbing “Whatever this is… I can’t” “I love working at the bookshop and until I feel ready to be a doctor again that is what I will do. And I am tired of listening to you insulting the shop and Rowan.” He was not ready for the look full of hurt in her eyes. He wanted to see her smile and nothing more. “This is not working, Elias. We are not working and I am sick and tired of being in pain.” He stared at her and for a while he was immobile as if stunned by her words. “You love him, don’t you?” Elias’ voice was almost a whisper but she heard him nonetheless. In frustration his hands ran through his hair and he groaned “I have been such a stupid fool not to notice.” In the meantime, Aelin had taken a seat on one of the benches at the marina while Elias was not towering in front of her and she kept avoiding his gaze like the coward she felt. “That’s why you almost ignored me while I was away. And why your texts were cold all of a sudden.” Aelin didn’t answer and kept staring at the small fishing boats moored at the pier, while tears kept flowing down her cheeks “I had to sort out my feelings.” “Clearly not your feelings for me.” She clenched her fingers “Life happens,” her tone almost a growl. “No, annoying bookseller happened. You were fine until you started working there.” His anger back in his words. She finally found the strength to stand and face him “This is between me and you. Damn it, Elias we were not together, we were still trying to figure out things. It’s my feelings okay? I am the one who fell in love with him, so leave Rowan out of this.” She shouted, now clenching both hands in fists “I am the one who is so messed up and could not make up her bloody mind. Blame me for this.” Suddenly her back was at him again “This is not how it was meant to go down.” She leaned against the wall of the pier. She turned and he was in front of her. In a swift movement he kissed her “tell me you don’t feel anything. Have the guts to tell me that the time we spent together meant nothing. Be truthful, damn it. I deserve it.” Her hand went in front of her mouth to stifle the sob rippling through her “I loved the time I spent with you.” She finally looked at him and the pain she saw in his eyes almost broke her “But my feelings for Rowan developed before the ones I had for you had time to form.” It was a pathetic excuse but it was all she could give him just now. She started shaking and he offered her his jacket. “You are cold,” his voice soft again. “Don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve it.” She refused the jacket. “Aelin… I am sorry for what I said.” He moved a step closer, he could not see her in that much pain. She did not answer for a moment “I didn’t want to hurt you.” She sobbed tears flowing again “I am so bad at this, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” “I know.” He pushed behind her ear a rebellious lock of hair “Let me walk you home, you are freezing.” Aelin nodded and they walked back to her place in silence. Once in front of her house they stopped. Aelin took out of her purse “Let me pay for half of the dinner.” His hand stopped her “Don’t even think about it.” “But… I have been horrible to you.” “I don’t care, I am not letting you pay.” And caressed her cheek “Can we talk tomorrow? In a more civilised way? I accept your feelings. I really do, but if we have to part I want to do it in a better fashion. Tonight’s fight was nasty and I’d hate to remember our time together having such a brutal ending.” Aelin managed a faint smile “Yeah. Yeah, it sounds good.” And Aelin’s heart felt all of a sudden lighter. “Good.” He kissed her cheek “I’ll text you tomorrow with an ETA of when I am meant to finish work. Is it okay with you?” “Yes, Elias.” He winked at her and left. Aelin stood outside the house and stared at the sea for a while, but when the wind picked up again she ran back in the house. She changed in her jammies and plopped on the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea. She felt horrible after the horrible dinner they had. But she was looking forward discussing things with him in a more civilised way. She hated the fight and all she had said. She did care about him, just not in the way he hoped. She sighed and grabbed the book on the coffee table. Her mobile lay beside it and when she retrieved it she found a text from Rowan How was the evening? Are you okay? Disaster was all she texted back. A couple of minutes later his reply came Would you like to talk about it? And laughed. Rowan was still coming to grasp the whole texting thing and she loved the fact that he always used proper grammar, punctuation and never contracted any words. Not yet she replied. Please, take the morning off tomorrow. I will handle the hordes of tourists on my own. I will see you in the afternoon. She laughed. K. <3 XOXO was her reply and she waited to see his. Is that a sort of secret code? Good night, grandpa. A smile appeared on her face. She adored their banter and mocking him for his limited knowledge of certain aspect of technology was fun, although she found it quite attractive and fascinating.

In the end she decided to go to bed instead. And before switching off the light she flipped through the pictures she had taken of their adventure and chose one of the two of them together as a home screen. “Night, Buzzard.”

#rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowanwhitethorn #aelin galythinius #fanfic #throne of glass series #angst #fluff

24 notes · View notes

jerepars · 3 years

Text

Ape Dos Mil Extended Chapter Notes

6 / 9 Pure Love

Hyperlinks appear in blue (underlined on mobile and the dashboard). The story is posted here. Direct link to this chapter is here.

As it turned out, when James had to go dark for 48 hours, it pushed Teresa deeper into the cave. James sat in a hotel room on the other side of town while Teresa bought a hotel. James looked into Isidro Navarro while Teresa got ready to make her pitch to the guy and expand her business to Europe. While she dined, James was on the wrong side of the day.

When I first introduced lyrics from Glassjaw’s “Ape Dos Mil” into the story in the second chapter, I mentioned it was the lyrics and mood of the song overall that inspired the story. This paragraph is borrows from the main verse of the song:

Yeah, it's over You can bet in mid October I will still be ranting 'bout most early May Yeah, he's a winner He's a goddamn sinner While he dines I'm on the wrong side of the day And I said, "I don't understand why I'm fumbling after" You're the reason i cannot forget this season Or the letter when you first referred to it

She was going to go her own way, make all the deals, gain more more more. James had to be down for that not just because he was in love with her, but because he had a higher purpose—thanks to the universe—when it came to Teresa. But James wished she didn’t go around ignoring all the signs of danger. He wished she didn’t walk around like nobody was going to break her heart or like she could elude death. Hadn’t she learned, losing Tony, that the #1 special on the menu in the underworld was breaking hearts, one way or another?

There’s a Mac Miller song, “My Favorite Part” with these words: You walk around so clueless to it all. Like nobody gonna break your heart. It'll be alright babe, see, me, I got you covered. I'm gon' be your lover, you might be the one.

So the line in the paragraph about queenpin Teresa walking around like nobody was going to break her heart is a reference to that. There’s also a line in the song that goes, The universe couldn’t keep us apart--why would it even try? Very soulmate-y but different in that for Jeresa it is because of the universe they are soulmates.

But nothing moved Teresa. She didn’t let up. She wasn’t going to confess to using, since she was going out of her way to hide it. She didn’t own up to the responsibility of being targeted and putting them all in danger unnecessarily because she had to have Europe.

The first line of this paragraph is sort of a reference to the album Still Nothing Moves You by Ceremony.

Teresa was screaming, to feel the pressure in her throat, to drown out the noise in her head, when she took to the neatly pressed blazers along the back of the closet. She ripped as many off the hangers as would go, letting the different shades of white pool at her feet on the carpet. The jewelry station was next—earrings, necklaces, and rings ripping into her hands before she decided there were too many for a few handfuls, picking up the entire velvet drawer insert tray and dumping it to the side, fully enraged.

When she swung her arm around, Teresa caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length three-way mirror. Her breath caught in her throat. She saw herself, and there, over her shoulder, was herself—the girl from Culiacán.

“You forgot the most important thing is survival. You have to get out of here,” the girl pleaded. “You have to go. Run.”

So, uh, I changed a lot from canon. In 5x07, the scene cuts soon after Teresa yells “Fuuuuuuuuuck!” and throws her phone. In the next scene of Teresa, she’s in the sitting area of her room doing coke, and when she looks up at the mirror across from her, that’s when she seems old Teresa in flannel.

I had this scene planned out in my head before 5x07 aired and I always thought, when Teresa found out Boaz killed George, she would react violently and destroy her closet. So here in the story, Teresa is still inside her closet when old Teresa shows up.

“I’m not leaving without them,” Teresa told off the girl standing behind her in the too big flannel.

A reply never came but when Teresa looked back in the mirror, the girl was still standing there with terror in her eyes.

“I’m not leaving,” Teresa vowed.

The girl watched her. Teresa closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. It was the cocaine talking, the two big hits she’d taken while already upset. She knew that. But the girl remained, watching Teresa in silence.

In 5x07, Teresa has this conversation with Avi. But if she’s shut herself in her closet, then this conversation becomes a face-off with her former self. I think I like that better, actually.

It also eliminates the whole exchange with Avi saying James ordered for the plane to be ready and that Teresa should get out of the country immediately. After everything they’ve been through I don’t buy that James would take it upon himself to make that decision for her, regardless of how worried and protective he is. Sorry not sorry, canon, but that just doesn’t make sense for these characters.

Teresa wasn’t sure if she sat there for minutes or hours. She paid no attention to how much light was streaming in through the window. In silence, the tears flowed and brought her back down to earth. She only knew a significant amount of time had passed when the white noise stopped ringing in her ears and a familiar burning feeling took hold in her chest.

That was the universe’s doing. It meant James was back.

She heard indistinct chatter from outside the closet in the main room. She listened closer. There was James’ gravelly voice, then a pause, followed by Pote, low and gruff. They exchanged words and then came a third voice, higher in pitch with a familiar Texas Southern drawl—Kelly Anne.

Teresa sighed. They were back. She’d never been so thankful for the hurt in her chest.

More changes to canon. James gets to Kelly Anne and Pote before Boaz and makes sure they get back to the safe house.

Here’s the thing. I hate the whole kidnapping plot of 5x08 and think it’s unnecessary. Much of the episode is spent on Pote grunting and yelling nonsensically, making lame threats. And what happens? Pote doesn’t save the day. Kelly Anne saves herself. I haven’t even mentioned the fact that Teresa calls Boaz and tells him she’ll give him the business (and she was not bluffing, by the way) as long as he lets Kelly Anne go.

Omg. The action of 5x08 is fine. We get to see James in green. But the actual story...the plot of it...what the fuck is the point? The majority of the episode is wasted on Kote (the season is pretty much #Kote of the South at this point) when really it should focus on Teresa, and on the Castel/Devon/Kostya stuff.

So yeah. I said hell no, unlike canon I refuse to let Kote take over in my story. The queenpin storyline gets abandoned completely in canon with no proper resolution for how Teresa gets back to herself. It’s like she goes from the queenpin, caring about nothing but the business, then suddenly remembers her true personality and is the old Teresa again.

And for what? All because of the kidnapping plot? No. Just no. I couldn’t do it.

Eliminating the KA’s kidnapping doesn’t eliminate the Boaz problem or the Kostya problem or the Devon problem. So I axed it.

She’d said the same less than a week ago in Berlin, looking over the city skyline. But this time it had no bite and sting.

There’s a song by Defeater called “The Bite and Sting” and the phrase in the second sentence above comes from that title. If for whatever reason you decide to listen to it, there’s a line in the song that goes We ain’t seen no Germans for days, because Defeater’s music is conceptual and tells interrelated stories over the span of their albums. The EP that “The Bite and Sting” is on, Lost Ground, is about a black WWII veteran. The song is about being in the war and that’s why the line I mentioned is there. Kind of ironic, because I was not thinking about the fact that Teresa said to James “say it” while they were in Germany.

Anyway, that was a longwinded explanation just to say: the context of the reference and the way the phrase is used in the sentence are not related.

Self-preservation had always been key for James’ survival, and over and over he threw it away for her. So his words hurt because they were honest, because they pointed out the mistakes she’d made when it came to him. But Teresa admired James for standing up for himself and showing his backbone. He was there for her—they were in this together—but he wouldn’t allow himself to be used. She had to prove herself, to somehow make amends. And she loved him for it, to be given the opportunity.

Because beyond striking the balance with herself, Teresa knew that if she wanted the pure love only soulmates who were lucky enough to find each other and chose to be together could have—not just tough love—then the days of shutting James out had to come to an end as well.

In the notes for Good Luck/Bad Days (a completely separate and unrelated story) I mentioned that one of the songs I ended up referencing, “Pure Love” by Hayley Williams was actually meant to be used in this story. I think pieces of the song fit better lyrically in Good Luck/Bad Days, but conceptually (are those different? I feel like they are different) it fits better here. So. That’s where the chapter title comes from.

#je repars notes

3 notes · View notes

monggu-eomma · 4 years

Text

Give and Take

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Reply 2009 AU, high school AU, fluff, and comfort

Word Count: 2.2k

Prompt: self-insert your first teen phase

Summary: Rewind to 2009. It’s a year that you’ll never forget. Memories of Kanye interrupting Taylor’s acceptance speech, Twilight being made into a movie, the release of the Single Ladies music video, making your very own Facebook account, and texting your best friend on the newest Samsung slide phone would forever be ingrained in your mind. It was a busy year and with the help of your best friend, you were going to snag the hottest concert tickets that any teen girl or guy could dream of having.

Author’s Note: This scenario is for the BGW Bingo Bash and is based off of the “self-insert your first teen phase.” The teen phase that I have chosen to write about was my very first boy band, the Jonas Brothers. Nothing that happened in this scenario actually happened to me. Like all but one of my stories, it’s just wishful thinking. © Give and Take is copyright monggu-eomma. Do not re-post, modify, and/or translate this piece of writing without my permission.

Life seemed to take more than it gave back. It all began a few years ago. At eleven years old, you were starting to make lifelong friendships and settle into your life, your parents took away all of that progress by moving to a new place. It was supposed to be a fresh start, especially for your parents and their crumbling relationship and they had hoped that being closer to family would somehow solve all of their problems, but it didn’t stop the contention found in your home. The phrase “the grass is not greener on the other side” rang true for your family’s big move. The constant fighting didn’t disappear after your family moved and with being forced to make new friends and adjust to a new place, you felt like life was taking the biggest dump on you possible.

With all of that being said, there was one thing as a result of your family moving that wasn’t terrible and that was your best friend, Kim Taehyung. You had first met him when his family had offered to help your family move into your new home. When you first looked around the neighborhood, it seemed like all of the kids in the neighborhood knew each other very well and it made you feel like an outsider. All of that quickly changed when Taehyung had approached you and asked if you wanted to play with him. Despite being shy, you nodded your head and from there you grew to be the best of friends.

Taehyung had always been there for you. He was there cheering you on during your horseback riding competitions and he was there to console you when your parents told you that they didn’t have enough money to continue your horseback riding lessons. It was a low blow to have to give up on something that you loved to do and Taehyung was there to comfort by inviting you to hang out at his family’s farm and take care of their horses with him. He was there to encourage you to play the cello, which you had always wanted to play, even though it meant that you couldn’t be in Band class with him. Most recently, he was there through the tears and the deafening moments of silence when your mom walked out, leading to your parents’ divorce. He knew that he couldn’t fix your broken heart, but he did everything in his power to make sure that you remembered that you were not alone. On warm days he would come over and encourage you to go on walks with him to make sure you got fresh air and on cold days, he would open his arms to you and watch whatever movie you wanted to watch, even if it was Twilight.

You and Taehyung did everything together, from taking the bus to school together, to taking as many classes together as possible -- much to the displeasure of your teachers -- to sharing secrets while playing Mario Kart late at night. He would listen to you gush about your favorite male celebrities and he even came with you at the midnight release of Breaking Dawn. Taehyung was without a doubt the best part of your life.

“Nick is so handsome,” you sighed as you stood by your locker, admiring your newly acquired Jonas Brothers album. Taehyung stood next to you, looking down at the album and tried to remember which one was Nick. Was he the one with straight hair?

“I thought Joe was your favorite,” Taehyung said. He didn’t particularly care for the Jonas Brothers, but he didn’t dislike them either.

“Joe is my favorite, but I can still think that Nick is handsome,” you explained. “Oh! Oh! And Kevin,” you added, because in this house you loved and supported every Jonas Brother.

Taehyung nodded, not really sure what to say to that. He supposed it made sense, but he also was under the impression that you were primarily into the Jonas Brothers for their music. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you saw that a friend had texted you, asking if you were going to ride the bus back home.

“We need to go! The bus is going to leave soon!” You exclaimed as you slid open your phone to reveal a full keyboard. You needed to tell your friend to ask the bus driver to wait for you and Taehyung to come. Before you could start the text, Taehyung’s eyes widened and he took your wrist so that you could run along with him.

The Fates seemed to be favoring you today, which got you excited, since the bus was still there by the time you and Taehyung had arrived, with chests heaving and hearts pounding. You had failed to notice that Taehyung was still holding on to your hand as you entered the bus, but oddly enough, it wasn’t weird. It felt kind of nice. You wouldn’t have minded him holding your hand more often. It wasn’t until you both sat down next to each other that Taehyung had noticed that he was still holding your hand. He looked down at your intertwined hands and immediately released your hand, a blush coloring his neck and cheeks.

“Sorry,” he said. Normally you weren’t a big of prolonged physical contact, but you knew that if it weren’t for Taehyung holding your hand as he ran, there was no way that you would have made it on time to the bus.

You bumped your shoulder against his, trying to diffuse the tension. “It’s okay. If it weren’t for you dragging me, I would have missed the bus.” You didn’t want to make it awkward by saying that you enjoyed him holding your hand. You would keep that information to yourself.

Although there was still some awkwardness hanging in the air, the rest of the bus ride home was spent listening to music with Taehyung. You each shared an earbud as you both listened to music on your iPod. It was amazing that that thing could hold five hundred songs. You were pretty sure that you’d never be able to use up all of the space for music.

A few songs later, and you found yourself walking back home with Taehyung. The walk was only six minutes, you had counted, and you were still listening to music together. It was a little hard to share earbuds with Taehyung since he was starting to grow taller, which caused the earbud in your right ear to tug a few times. He asked a few times if you were okay since he saw the minor discomfort, but you didn’t mind it all.

“Are you still going to come by later?” You asked when you stood in front of your house.

“Of course! I just need to do some chores and then I’ll be right over,” Taehyung replied, with a smile.

You clapped your hands and jumped up and down. “Awesome!” Taehyung laughed and started to make his way home. “And don’t forget to bring your phone!”

He turned around and tilted his head to the side. “My phone?”

“Yeah! We’re gonna need it tonight,” you exclaimed. Taehyung was skeptical towards your request but he shrugged his shoulders in compliance. You never needed to try hard to convince him to do something. Your wish was your command and he would gladly follow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you really going to do this?” Taehyung asked as he watched you scatter five different phones, four cell phones and your home phone, on your bedroom floor.

“Yes! I am,” you said as you looked up to see his eyes judging you from where he sat on your bed. You opted to sit on your bedroom floor to allow for more flexibility, although mobility wasn’t necessary for this challenge, you just liked knowing that you could move around.

“Can’t you just use your laptop to get tickets?” Taehyung suggested. He looked toward your clunky Dell laptop that was sitting on your desk. That laptop was so ancient that it made a whirring noise whenever you used it, but despite its age the laptop worked perfectly fine even if it had to be plugged into a socket to function.

“No! I can’t,” you replied as you folded your arms across your body. “I don’t have money and there’s no way that Dad will buy tickets for me. The only way that I can see them is to win tickets through this radio show,” you explained in exasperation. It felt like this was the millionth time that you were explaining yourself to Taehyung, but at the same time, you knew that you shouldn’t be too harsh on him. He could have made fun of you for your obsession over the Jonas Brothers, but he didn’t. On top of that, he was even letting you use his cellphone to call in to the radio show. “Can you pass me my radio, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to your nightstand and grabbed your radio.

“Thank you!” You beamed as he handed over the radio to you. Taehyung smiled as he watched you dial the radio to the right station. He couldn’t remember the exact moment that he started crushing on you. Maybe it was when you shared your favorite ice cream with him, even though you hate sharing your favorite foods. Maybe it was when you spent all of the free day that they had in Band class laughing at him messing around on the saxophone. Maybe it was when your soft hand tightly held on to his hand when your school took your grade to the ice skating rink. Regardless of when he started to share his heart with you, Taehyung was resolved to stay by your side, even as you daydreamed of marrying your favorite Jonas Brother.

Taehyung was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a thud on your bed. You had tossed two of the five phones onto your bed. He gazed at you as the last rays from the Sun for the day streamed into your bedroom, illuminating your figure. He was crushing on you, hard.

“When the radio host opens up the line, dial the radio station’s phone number,” you explained. Taehyung nodded his head, despite not really understanding what was so great about the Jonas Brothers, but at this point he was sure he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump, he would say, “How high?”

“You ready, Tae?”

“Ready,” he said as he listened carefully to the radio host. Despite the fact that Taehyung was watching your nervous and excited state, he still managed to play his part and he continued to play his unspoken part ten minutes later when he held you in his arms on your bed as you cried.

“We tried so hard,” you said in between tears as your fingers clutched Taehyung’s shirt as if your life depended on it. He didn’t think that it was accurate to say we since he had just followed along with you not giving anything but you much thought, but he wasn’t going to argue with you on that.

You felt devastated. You knew that there was a chance that you wouldn’t get the tickets, but before the radio show, you did your best to not entertain those kinds of negative thoughts. It was all or nothing. From an outside perspective it seemed silly to cry over tickets, but you really wanted to see the Jonas Brothers and this was your one chance to do so.

As the tears continued to fall, Taehyung carefully ran his fingers through your hair. He knew that you weren’t a touchy-feely person, so this prolonged physical contact was new territory for the both of you, but you didn’t complain about the comfort he gave. The only thing he could do was to comfort you to the best of his capacity. Occasionally, he’d rock your bodies back and forth, which would cause you to break out in laughter, even if you still felt heartbroken at the loss of not getting the concert tickets. Eventually, the tears stopped flowing and you looked up to see Taehyung looking down at you.

“Thanks for helping me, Tae,” you said. “I know you don’t like or really care about the Jonas Brothers, but you still helped me.”

“I’m always here. Even if that means helping you get tickets to see the Brothers Jonas,” Taehyung said, purposefully getting the band name wrong. You playfully punched him in the arm and rolled your eyes.

“It’s the Jonas Brothers, Tae. Not the Brothers Jonas,” you corrected.

Taehyung laughed at your correction. You felt the vibrations of his chest, since he was still holding on you in his arms. He laid against the headboard of your bed, taking you down with him.

“You’re such a dork, Taehyung.”

“But I’m better than the Jonas Brothers, right?” You felt Taehyung bury his face in your hair and you smiled.

“You aren’t just better. You’re the best.”

Life took more than it gave back, but none of that mattered because when life gave you Kim Taehyung, you didn’t need anything else.

37 notes · View notes

shannygoatgruff · 4 years

Photo

Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge - (Call me if you need anything) @waiting4inspiration

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Modern Ivar x OC

Warning: Language, strong sexual content

Rating: M

A/N: First my apologies for taking so long to post this chapter. I lost the original version of chapter 7, but I hope you enjoy this slightly longer re-write. I think this story only has 1 or 2 more chapters and it’s done. I’m almost through telling the story I wanted to tell.

Next, I got the idea for this from experience I had with an ex, with whom I am still very close friends. We were actually talking about this particular encounter recently, and I thought it would be fun to write it. I will say, if you have never had sex with someone that you are truly friends with, you have no idea what you’re missing out on! I think the sexiest sex is the kind where you talk to your partner. Maybe it’s just the stage I’m in my life. What you’re doing doesn’t interest me as much as what’s going on in your head.

Finally, I used the lyrics to ‘Imported’ by Jessie Reyes without permission. I love her and that song and when I hear it, I see Ivar and Cash. I have included the video at the end of the chapter - the vibe of the song is how I see them as a couple.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

When Ivar moved across the floor, there was grace in his movements. His motions were fluid, and because he didn’t use his legs to aid him, how he curved his spine to usher his mobility gave him the agility of a big cat stalking his prey. One-shoulder worked in tandem with the hip on the opposite side of his body creating this... glide, that was simply fucking sexy. Cash found herself wondering how good the view of him crawling would look from underneath him.

Crawling for Cash, however, was anything but graceful. She hadn’t gotten very far, just from the dresser to the full-length mirror, but fuck a duck if it wasn’t hard. At first, she tried to be all sexy, and crawl on her hands and knees, but when she realized Ivar couldn’t use his knees, she switched to an Army crawl.

After the first pass across the floor, she knew this crawling idea was going to be short-lived. Not only did she not possess the upper body strength to keep it up, but she was also getting hella ashy. It was bad enough the rain had washed away most of her lotion, but now she was sliding around on the carpet. She was going to look like she had been rolling around in flour at any minute. Her mother would have a fucking fit if she saw the state she was in.

And how the hell was she supposed to get her toiletry tote across the room? It wasn’t like it was a backpack. It was hard enough trying to maneuver herself around, let alone bring something with her. She had tried dragging it and even pushing it in front of her. Both ways were taking forever. At the rate she was going, she and the tote would get to the mirror by her 30th birthday.

Ivar leaned against the bed watching with curiosity. He had never seen an able-bodied person struggle so hard to crawl. Why didn’t she just get up on all fours? He appreciated that view of her. It was much more seductive then whatever the hell she was doing now. Currently, she looked like she was trying to do the worm in a breakdance competition for quadriplegics.

“It may be easier if you use your arms. You have all of your weight on your elbows. Try using your wrists and hands. That way, you can move your bag with you.” Ivar laid on his stomach facing Cash and demonstrated, “See? Like this…”

“See, like this,” Cash mocked in a high pitched voice rolling her eyes as she continued to struggle across the floor. Suddenly, she felt the sting of his hand as it landed flat on her ass. It sounded much worse than it felt. It didn’t hurt in the least, but she still gave him the evil eye, “Did you just?” she feigned shock.

Being the youngest child, Ivar got away with a lot of shit. He was used to blaming one of his brothers for everything and he always got away with it. It became a little game he liked to play with them that he lovingly titled, ‘How much trouble can I get you in?’ It was during that time that he started doing this mocking, side to side head motion to symbolize his victory. As an adult, during a triumph, he continued to rock his head in this obnoxious manner, only now, it also included a shit-eating grin, followed by a dab.

Cash watched the most incredibly mischievous smile spread across Ivar’s face as he bobbed his head and then he dabbed the air. He spoke some foreign words and seemed mighty pleased with himself. “Oh, chuckle it up, Chuckles.” She rolled her eyes and sat up. “Ya, perv.”

God, he had been wanting to do that ever since she started crawling. He just wanted to see if her ass was really as soft as it looked. It was, and it had the right amount of bounce. “Sorry. I could not resist,” his smile was so big, it was hard to make out what he was saying, “You were making fun of me. It was all I could think to do,” he whined.

Cash turned toward the mirror and started to dump out the contents of her bag. She picked up her wide-tooth comb and folded her legs beneath her. Leaning into the mirror, she fixed her eyes squarely on his image, “If you wanted to cop a feel, all you had to do was ask.” She watched as his mouth opened and closed, like a fish.

“What are you going to do?” He asked, folding his hands in his lap.

Cash parted her hair down the middle and secured half of it with a ponytail holder. Carefully detangling the other half with a comb, she reached in the bag for a jar and struggled with the top, “I’m going to put my hair in two braids, so I won’t look totally crazy.” She held the jar out to Ivar. “Can you open this for me?”

Silently, he crawled to where she sat and took the jar out of her hands. With one turn he had the lid opened. “This smells wonderful. What is it?”

“A moisturizing mask.”

“It smells like coconuts and berries, and…and,” he took another big sniff but couldn’t quite place the scent, “I don’t know but it is amazing. It smells soft. Like you.”

“Jasmine,” she took the jar from his hand and tried not to blush. He thought she smelled soft? “I made this.”

“You make this?”

“It’s not hard,” she shrugged, “All you need are some essential oils for the smell and different kinds of butters. It’s pretty easy. It’s good to keep moisture in. I could even use it on your hair and it wouldn’t be greasy. See feel.” She titled her hair for Ivar to feel her hair without the moisturizer. “Now you know I must like you because I’m letting you touch my hair.” Then, she scooped a small amount of product onto her palm before rubbing it into her hair. After she had worked it though she tilted her head toward him again. “Now feel.”

His eyes grew with amazement. “That feels awesome.” Of course, he couldn’t help but bring his nose to her hair. “And it smells good.” His nose brushed the side of her ear before making its way to her neck, then back into her hair. “I like this smell.”

Cash giggled at the feeling, but she couldn’t ignore the tiny goosebumps that started to prickle every inch of her skin. “Do you know how to braid?” She asked feeling her neck slowly start to lean more into the warmth of this breath.

“Hmm?” He looked at her eyes in the mirror and noticed that he had been rubbing her arm. When did that happen? What the hell was in that jar? “Braid? A little. I used to help my mother when I was young. She has very long hair.” He watched as a smooth smile crossed Cash’s face. “Oh, no. I cannot. I am terrible at it.”

“Oh, you know nothing, Jon Snow,” she handed him a brush, “you do mine, and I’ll do yours.”

“And we can have a sleeping party, like girlfriends,” he mocked in a high pitched girl voice and twirled his hair around his finger, “...and paint each other’s nails and do make-overs!”

“That’s a slumber party, jerk. And as long as there are no pillow fights, I’d be okay with it.” She nudged his shoulder with her own. “But, I hope you don’t want to be my girlfriend.”

Ivar took the comb from Cash and looked at the floor. He didn’t want to chance to catch her eyes in the mirror, just in case, “I was really kind of hoping that you would want to be mine.”

“Really?” Cash asked said softly before capturing his lips for a soft kiss. “Good. It’s about time. I was getting gray hair over here, waiting on you to make a move...” Smiling into his lips, she wondered, how did her tongue always end up in his mouth? Was she capable of kissing him without needing to feel his velvety tongue on hers? She pulled away slightly and pecked him a few more times. “Now, I can’t be all kissing and everything with my hair looking like this. I��m too cute to be looking this tore up. So you helping or nah?”

Braiding each other’s hair had been the most intimate thing Cash had ever done with a man, besides Glenn, with her clothes on. Why was it so easy to trust him? She let him touch her hair – generally speaking, black women don’t let people other their mothers or their hairdresser touch their hair. Hell, Cash’s parents had been married for over 30 years and she seriously doubted that her father had ever touched her mother’s hair. She had known this man for almost 48 hours and she had already let him see her with ashy legs. What the fuck was really going on?

It was something more than just being comfortable around him being bushy and ashy, that’s for sure. Maybe it was the fact that the things that she normally would be embarrassed about she didn’t give a fuck about anymore. She was pretty sure that if she needed to fart in front of him, she would have, That’s how secure she felt with him.

Ivar was amazed that he stopped focusing on his the fact that his bare legs were showing and that he was crawling, hours ago. Whatever it was that he was nervous about before he had met Cash in person seemed like a distant memory. He had just let this woman braid his hair like he was a girl playing beauty shop.

Granted, the hairstyle looked badass, especially with the way his head was shaved on the sides – but he knew for sure none of his brothers would have let their girlfriends do that. Hvitserk would talk shit to him about it for years to come because of it, too. But, he didn’t care, it felt right. Everything about her delicate fingers gripping his hair and gently massaging his scalp felt incredible. If she wanted to take every braid out and start all over, he would let her. He would let her do whatever she wanted if it would make her smile.

Speaking of smiling, as he flipped through his phone for more music for them to listen to, his face lit up when he ran across their song. “You feel like singing?” As soon as the opening beat of Imported by Jessie Reyes ft. 6lack started playing, Cash let her head lean back and smiled.

Ivar grabbed a brush, and handed her one, too. If they were going to do this duet any justice, they both needed their microphones and to get into character. Mother nature was already setting the scene outside with the rain still beating down against the patio, creating the perfect backdrop for their music video.

Bringing the hairbrush up to his mouth, he wanted Cash to see how he had choreographed his movements to the song. He only wished that he had his braces on because he had an entire dance to go with it.

Hi, my name is 6Lack And sometimes people me SIX-LACK I don’t mind because they stubborn And my bank account is looking mighty fine We can skip the wine and dine Go straight for the wind and grind She wanna cum, I can make it happen, fuck trying

Ivar rolled his hips from his sitting position on the floor with a devilish look on his face that made Cash lick her lips. Damn, that boy could sing. Plus, he was sexy and gyrating…fuck! She was trying so hard to be good, but the song was talking about going straight for the wind and grind making people cum and sexy stuff and whatnot…she was only human.

Sometimes, I get messy, you can be my biggest secret I ain’t sliding if you wit him Baby, you gon’ have to have to leave him

Ivar wagged his finger at Cash to let her know that he wasn’t the cheating type. He winked at her when she smiled.

I got morals on Sundays, sometimes on Wednesdays

He shrugged his shoulder and raised a brow.

Really, it depends but,

Ivar tried his best not to laugh at the face she was making at his stage-worthy performance. He was giving her his best big dick energy vibes.

You, you’re in love with somebody else Maybe I could offer some help (Maybe I could offer some help) Get over them by getting under me

He watched as Cash closed her eyes and began to sing. He could listen to her sing all day. She had a beautiful voice and he loved the changes she made to songs. He especially loved what she did to Jessie Reyes’s part of this song.

But you might O.D. if you get too much of me Might O.D. if you get too much of me

Cash, too, had a routine for this song, but she was not going to do it for him. Instead, she just did what felt natural at the moment. She ran her hand down her throat to her collarbone then pulled her legs up to her chest. As she sang, she rubbed her cheek against her knee and gave him a vulnerable stare…

Hi, my name is not important I’m not from here, I’m imported I drink liquor like it’s water Hope my liver can afford it I’ve been lyin’ here with I’ve been lyin…, I’ll be lyin here I’m under the covers like

Her voice…that was the same voice he had listened to countless times over the phone, that was singing to him in person. It was a little overwhelming. He reached up and cupped her cheek, and when she opened her eyes he leaned in to kiss her. The kiss so slow and deep and it conveyed every thought and feeling that Ivar couldn’t put into words.

He had so much he wanted to tell her, too. Like how he was glad she replied to his comment that day on the Jessie Reyes blog for this song. He had been listening to Imported on repeat because he was still in love with Freydis. Even though they had been broken up for a couple of years and he didn’t want her back, he couldn’t get over her. He was stuck mourning for what they could have been. He had so many hopes and dreams for them. He thought he had found a beautiful woman that could love him despite his disabilities and he would have a chance at a normal life. But, it didn’t work that way. Nothing in his life ever worked out that way.

Enter this song and this girl: the song was about finding someone to help you get over a broken heart and the girl...she was feeling a certain way because her first serious boyfriend, who she hadn’t been for over five years, was getting married. Feelings had a funny way of fucking you up.

But there they were; keyboard gangsters, in their feelings and being flirty. They were two people on different continents who were never going to meet, so what harm was it to bare their souls? Nobody ever died from having another friend; especially friends that liked to sing loved musicals and could go into a monologue from a movie with just the last word of a sentence. Really, friends like that were hard to come by.

Now, if things kept going in the right direction, soon they would be lovers.

Thank you, Jessie Reyes.

Cash bit Ivar’s neck, causing him to groan and squeeze her body tighter. Good thing the rain hadn’t washed off the scent of Aqua di Gio that seemed to be oozing from his pores. Damn! How did he know exactly what scents got her going? Did this man always smell like walking sex? And was it natural for a man to have skin this damn soft?

She watched her fingers as they trailed the lines of his tattoo along his left shoulder. “What’s this?” She asked as her fingertips came dangerously close to his nipple, before tracing the line back up the head of the figure to the center of his chest.

Ivar watched her nail slowly move across his skin and tucked his lip in between his teeth at the feeling. “The mythical Norse dragon, Fáfnir.” Did his voice just crack? She made him feel like a teenager all over again.

Cash giggled. She loved the way he suddenly started rolling his “r” and how his “th” started to sound like a z. Had it always and she just not notice? “Your accent is stronger,” she let her tongue follow along the line of his jaw, “it’s so sexy.”

“It’s hard to concentrate on English,” he said matter-of-factly, making sure to slur his Norwegian tongue into his English words, hands still gripping her waist, gently rocking with her on his lap, “when you do that.” He pointed his chin toward the ceiling to grant her better access to his Adam’s apple, “You know, I don’t think I have ever been in this situation and had to speak English.”

Cash's eyes opened in bewilderment as she lifted her head. “You know what? I’ve never seen an uncircumcised penis.” The thought just hit her. If they were about to go there and she hoped to God they were, they needed to get all of this shit out of the way. She sat back on his thighs and looped her arms around his neck.

Ivar’s smile was so big, his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Now? You think of that now? Really?”

“I’m serious.” She said settling back with a slight pout, “Circumcision is a big thing in the US, like everybody does it. But here, not so much, right? I mean, you’re not Jewish, are you?” She raised her brow and nudged her head toward him. “You know what I mean?”

He shook his head. “You want to know if I am?”

“Kinda?” Talk about killing the mood. There were things that she might want to try with him, but she wanted to know what she might be in for first. Nobody liked those kinds of surprises during sex. “ Is that weird?” There were just certain things you need to be upfront about. Even though she suspected she wasn’t certain.

Ivar shrugged with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Perhaps you will just have to find out.”

“Oh, just tell me.” She slapped his bare chest and rolled her eyes when he made a face like it hurt. “I’ll tell you something.”

“I’m not telling you that. But, I will tell you, that I have never seen brown nipples.” He ran his fingers between Cash’s bra straps and her shoulders, slowly lowering the straps down her arm. When she didn’t protest, he continued to pull the straps lower. He looked her in the eyes while she bent her arms through the loops to free herself of them.

Sucking his lip, he let his eyes trail from hers down to her lips, then lower to her neck. He admired how her pulse quickened when his hands touched just above her cleavage and when his thumbs gently pushed the lace down to expose her to him, he wanted to lick the hollow of her throat. “You are beautiful.”

Brown, white, black or pink, skin was skin, and Cash’s was beautiful and the skin on her breasts was just as soft and warm as the rest of her. He patiently waited while she unhooked her bra and discarded it away from them, before he wrapped his muscular arms around her, burying his face in between her breasts. “I love boobs.”

“Really?” She said smiling, as he looked up at her from the middle of her chest. “You didn’t strike me a breast man.”

“I am an everything man.” He smiled rubbing his face across her soft skin. “What is that smell? God…”

“Ahh…that is Heliotrope Gingembre, my favorite perfume.”

“Mine now, too,” he said absently. Closing his eyes with his head laid on her chest.

She kissed him on the top of his head and started to rub the back of his neck, “You think I don’t know that you’re avoiding my question? I shared.”

“I did not ask you a question and you did not tell me anything.” He looked up at her and started to bob his head with that shit-eating grin again.

“I will pop that little bobblehead of yours off your shoulders. Now you’re just cheating.” She rolled off his lap and laughed when he pouted at her and started to reach for her like a child. “Not until you answer me.” She sat next to him, but faced him and absently rubbed her hand along the hair on his legs.

He watched in amazement as she did. She didn’t seem the least bit weirded out by his scars. “Okay, I’m sorry. You want to know if I was cut as a baby?” Ivar laid back on the floor and laced his hand with hers. He looked at their joined hands and held them up to his line of vision before rolling his wrist. Why prolong the inevitable? She was going to find out sooner or later. He figured, if she could see his legs and be perfectly with fine them, odds were she'd okay with an unsnipped prick. “No, I was not.” He laid her hand on his stomach with the laziest hint of a smirk on his face.

“Hmm. Interesting,” she responded wiggling her toes. She chewed the inside of her lip for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. “Okay,” she got up on her knees and knelt beside him. Cash let her hands trail down his muscular stomach and found herself smile when she realized that he was ticklish in the spot between his navel and his waist.

Carefully, her deft fingers slid under the grey waistband of his boxer briefs before she smoothed her hands around to his hips. Slowly, she lowered the shorts down his legs, never once taking her eyes off of his. Since Ivar couldn’t hoist his backside off the floor, he aided her by rocking from side to side as she continued to pull the garment down lower and lower.

And there he was. Ivar Ragnarsson in all of his birthday glory. He was a sexy man. It was the moment of truth and Cash didn’t quite know what to do or say. Was she supposed to comment or compliment? Was she supposed to touch him or ask questions? There was so much she wanted to do, but she wasn’t sure if any of it was okay.

“So?” Ivar placed one hand behind his head and the other on his chest. “No witty observations?”

“Well, you already know you’re sexy, AF.” She tilted her head and let her fingers trace the dark line of hair that traveled from his navel to the soft tufts at his groin. “But this…it’s different.”

“Different? What the hell does that mean?” Ivar laughed. “It looks the same to me.”

Her eyes got big and she nodded, “Well, you’ve seen it before. I haven’t…” She touched it. It felt the same as others she’d held in her hands. It was thick, had a nice length, and just the right amount of curve to it. The bounce back, when she pulled it toward her and let it go, so that it slapped back against his pelvis, made a good sound. By all accounts, it was a normal cock. It was hard, and hot in her hands and she even noticed how Ivar’s stomach clenched when she made contact with it. “So does it feel different?”

“Different than what?” He asked with a labored breath as she continued to hold and turn him over in her hand. “It feels the same to me.” Did she know what she was doing to him? She wasn’t jerking him or doing anything sexual, not really, merely touching and having a conversation with him. It was such a turn on.

“Let me show you.” He removed his hand from behind his head and placed it on himself. Lifting his head, he attempted some sort of origami thing with the skin. “This, I think, is what you are used to seeing.” He rolled his eyes in his head and sucked his teeth, “Whatever.” He released the skin and smiled. “My way is much better. Much more sensation.”

“Oh, really?” She was intrigued. If she were being honest, it wasn’t the cutest one she’d ever seen. But, that was because she just wasn’t used to it, yet. She was sure in a few days, she would think it was the hottest one she’d ever seen! “How so?”

“This part in there…feels everything, sometimes too much.” He picked up her hand and placed it back on his swollen member, before closing his eyes at the feeling, “Sometimes, you have to touch it through the skin…”

“Like a clit?”

Ivar shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. I do not have one of those.” He let his hand travel up Cash’s thigh and settle right below her hip. “If direct pressure is applied to you, does it make you,” he wound his hands to try to drive the words forward, “finish faster?”

Now it was Cash’s turn to shrug, “Honestly? I’ve never had an orgasm with another person.”

“What?” Ivar sat up, instantly regretting the warmth of her hand leaving his body. “Are you serious?” This was great! Neither had he. But wait…if neither of them had, then this could be the worst awkward first sexual experience in the history of awkward first sexual experiences. They would either be eternally frustrated or their first sexual encounter could literally last indefinitely.

“Yup. Not ever.” Cash sat up on her knees so that he had full access to her hips. She placed her hands on his and watched as he slowly started to pull down her panties. “I think the guys that I’ve been with think all women like the same things. They don’t want to hear that you might want something different, or they just are in it for themselves. I just usually finish myself off.”

Ivar smoothed the lace down her thighs and held still as she used his shoulders to brace herself against him so she could lift each knee up to allow him to slide the material under her legs.

He didn’t want to seem like a total pervert but he couldn’t help but look at her. She was right next to him with the most neatly trimmed Mohawk he’d ever seen. “You’re into landscaping?” He didn’t reply when she nodded. Instead, he pressed his lips to her stomach. “So, when you finish yourself off, do you do it alone or in front of others?”

“Like do I perform?” She gently caressed his head, “It depends on how deserving the audience is.”

God, he wanted her. But, he needed to get one more thing out in the open before that could happen. He wanted total transparency between them, once and for all. “Me either.”

He felt his head being lifted from her warm skin and but he immediately dropped his eyes in embarrassment, “I have never had an orgasm during sex. The doctor thinks it was stress.”

“That is so sad,” she wanted to hug him, but she didn’t want to make him feel bad. She was used to it. There were millions of women who never had and probably never will have an orgasm – so was the plight of being a woman. But for Ivar to never experience it? He was too sweet a guy. It nearly broke her heart. “Do you at least get anything out of it?”

“Yeah. I like giving pleasure to someone else.” He tried to sound upbeat, but it wasn’t exactly a happy subject for him. What he was saying was true, he used to thoroughly enjoy making Freydis feel good. But, what about him? Didn’t he deserve to feel that way? Shouldn’t he get to experience an orgasmic high, at least once in his life? At least one time that wasn’t self-inflicted? “ And it does feel good.”

“Do you finish yourself off?”

“Never in front of anyone.” A devilish smile crept across Ivar’s face and when Cash saw that mischievous twinkle in those beautiful blue eyes, her face broke out in a smile, too.

Ivar had had many sexual conversations with women before but never before had he had a sex conversation with his partner. This whole thing, this talking and being together, looking at, touching, and getting to know about each other…all of this intimacy was amazing.

It was scary as hell for both of them, but damn it all if it didn’t feel natural. Even if their first time together wouldn’t be perfect, or they would have figure out who couldn’t do what because of physical limitations or just plain dislike, it would all pay off in the end. Neither of them had a point to try to prove to the other or to themselves. All they needed to do was enjoy each other. Who cared if neither had an orgasm? For the first time, they both were feeling something they hadn’t felt in a very long time. They felt at home, and safe with each other.

Cash closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his, “Bed or floor.” She laughed when he laid back and put both hands behind his head. “Oh yea, carpet burns and group masturbation...I knew you were freaky.”

Tags: @oddsnendsfanfics @a-mess-of-fandoms @waiting4inspiration @simsadventures @chipster-21 @tgrrose @alicedopey @thelastemzy @naaladareia @alexa4040 @absolutelynotanidiot @pokeasleepingsmaug @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @skadithegoddess @dina-m16 @tiyetiye @synnersaint @lostinthoughtsandfeelings@moonlightsspirit @geekandbooknerd @dreamlesswonder86 @inforapound @youbloodymadgenius @cruelfvckingsummer @mummybear @flowers-in-your-hayr @honestsycrets @thatendymion @jzr201

youtube

37 notes · View notes

sonocomics · 5 years

Text

Three years since

On July 31, 2016 my mother passed away, and every year since I’ve done a few tribute comics to her to honor her memory. And every year on this day I’ve made a post to just sort out my thoughts about the occasion, usually in a bit of a rambly fashion. I’ll link the other two posts below:

2017′s post

2018′s post

The previous two years’ posts were quite similar in content and tone. I believe this year’s post will be a bit different - it’s not negative so to speak, but whereas the last two posts focused on positives and the future, I’d like to take this year’s post to talk about worries and some struggles I’ve had as a result of my mother’s passing.

To be clear: I’m not like... sad or in the dumps or needing support or anything like that, though I appreciate if you have that thought upon reading that last sentence! This year’s post is moreso following my belief that talking about hard topics is ultimately a good thing, and I hope that anyone experiencing anything remotely similar to me can gain some relief knowing that someone else is going through the same thing.

As I’ve said in the previous posts: this post is not intended to make anyone sad or for “pity” or anything like that. I just want to share these thoughts with you all, hopefully to spur you to spend some time with those you love :)

Post under the readmore (sorry mobile users)

Perhaps the biggest worry I’ve had over the years is to do with memory: I don’t want to forget the moments I had with my mother. The comics I’ve made help with that a little bit, but as time goes on I keep finding myself trying to recollect things that are just out of reach. But I can’t get to them because I can no longer ask my mom to remind me. For instance, she used to have this super long and humorous rhyme about her one brother who always kept injuring himself in the oddest of ways...but I don’t remember it anymore.

I’ve never had the best memory to begin with, and as I mentioned since she’s gone now, I can’t exactly get a reminder for everything I might be “missing”. The rhyme might be known by my uncle, but it just as easily could have just been something she knew. I’ve started taking more pictures and making more notes about things - so I don’t forget such things in the future. I’m aware that forgetting things is just something that happens naturally, but it still sucks a bit. Perhaps I’ll even consider keeping a diary one day.

Another worry I’ve had is something that’s a bit surreal to think about: since my mother died when I was only just becoming and adult...one day I’ll have lived more years with her not being in my life than with her. Obviously she was around for my formative years, but this thought is just... “haunting” I suppose is the word for it? I will always love her, I will always miss her, and I’ll always remember what she did for me, so in a way she’ll never be completely “gone” but it is just odd to think about.

I think something else I’ve noticed is... I think the easiest way I can describe it (as silly as this sounds) is like the early episode of Bleach with Orihime and her brother. As time goes on the wound slowly heals and life eventually continues completely “normally”. I believe my mom would be so so happy that I got to this point, but it is admittedly strange, and I do wish I could share some new experiences with her.

Lastly, in regards to my tribute to my mother here, it’s somewhat of a mixed bag for me at this point. I love to share stories about her, as I can give you all an idea of what a wonderful person she was and I can forever keep those memories in a somewhat “permanent” form - but the other side of it is I really don’t want the tribute to feel... “scheduled” I suppose. I don’t want to feel like I HAVE to make them “for the blog”. That they’re here to “fill a slot” - because of course that’s not their purpose. That’s why I let myself have the break with the comic yesterday - if I pushed myself to finish it just so it was “on time” I feel like it would lose a part of what made it important.

To end this off, I think one day I’ll ask my family members to also tell me stories about my mother so I can make comics of them. Those may not ever be shared here, but I’d like to compile all of the comics about her in a book perhaps to share with my family. A unique way for me to honor her memory and to collaborate with my family :)

I hope that this year’s post wasn’t a “downer” or anything like that - again, it’s not meant to be that at all. I just truly and sincerely think that talking about these kinds of things is a healthy thing to do, and I hope that this post can make you think and/or appreciate the people around you that you care about. Perhaps inspire you to take more photos, make a scrapbook, keep those memories! :>

#death mention #mother mention #mothers #death #long post

77 notes · View notes

random-contemplations · 5 years

Text

So here’s the fanfic, I might write a pt2 if I get round to it. Also sorry the spacing is a bit shit on mobile, I promise it looks better on the desktop version!

Edit: the whole thing is up on my A03 which is random_contemplations if you want to check it out!

#crisana #skam españa #cris soto #joana bianchi #croana #crisana fic #croana fic #fanfic #tp

115 notes · View notes

secondbestdetective · 5 years

Text

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: Spiker OOC Contact: Send me some messages, I prefer Discord if we’re going to get into some real deep conversations. I don’t get notifications from tumblr if it ever decides to work on mobile. Which is where I am a lot of the time.

Who the heck is my muse anyway

Oh, Tim? Little old Timmy boy? He’s a big nerd. Super smart but doesn’t know what self care means. All he really wants is approval from a parental figure. And oh yeah. He freaking figured out Batman and Robin’s identity at the age of 9 and later used that knowledge to save Batman from himself. What a wild kid.

Points of interest:

Tim is the founder of the Neon Knights Foundation, which is basically like the YMCA. But for a world where there are really interesting villains and confirmed existence of aliens and metas.

He is very observant and quick on his feet. A very skilled strategist, and could send you on a path to your death with just a few words if he wanted to.

Kind of an insomniac, if there is work to be done he’s not sleeping unless it’s done. It’s more of an anxiety thing than anything.

Has no spleen, but also has anxiety around being sick since that Ebola breakout in Gotham, so he tries to keep himself from getting sick if he can help it.

What they’ve been up to recently:

Patrols. Looking into a secret society he’s discovered while catching up on the latest conspiracy theories. Training and exercising. Preparing for gala season.

Where to find them:

Gotham City, Wayne Enterprises, His theater home (Yes, he lives in a revamped theater and yes it’s near Crime Alley)

Current plans:

Cases, take Neon Knights to Australia. Catch up on Netflix.

Desired interactions:

I love an rp where they are on a mission. ANGST. Minimal fluff, but man do I really want a TimKon thread. Maybe a younger Tim thread, I don’t get to do Tim as Robin a lot.

Offered interactions:

I find it hard to write with people long-term if I don’t know the writer behind the thread, and if it’s not plotted out beforehand. Sometimes I can write for a while with an ask meme, but if it starts to die down I’ll try to come up with ideas, or just drop it altogether. Basically just hit me up. We can come up with something.

Current open post/s:

Any meme I have posted. I have several open starters

Anything else?:

This muse has been finicky lately. Idk. I think I tend to have a higher muse for Tim when I’m super down in the dumps and want to get out of my head. So usually this time of year. I’ve had a much higher muse for my Roy lately. I think it’s purely because of the music I’ve been listening to and fantastic rp partners <3

I have a pretty hectic schedule around this time. I’m about to start full time school again soon. But I’ll probably procrastinate on here a lot. I just might not be on quite as often as I am. Also I lose threads all the time. I’m sorry >.<

tagged by: @rxsurrxcted

Tagging: @aspectorofthemoon @jp-todd-rp @goodluckgotham @gcthamspoiler @robin-decoded anyone else who wants to do it feel free!

5 notes · View notes

ncumenia-archived · 5 years

Text

📱MOBILE-FRIENDLY RULES📱

OTHER LINKS:

lore

bio

headcanons

exclusive ship list

Since English is not my mother language, I apologize in advance if there are some grammatical errors or I use wrong words to describe an action. If something is not clear to you, just let me know, I’ll fix it as soon as I can.

Roleplay Rules:

TAG DUMP HERE!; (NSFW too)

Mun&Muse are both 21+. This blog is selective, 18+ exclusive, canon divergent, duplicates crossover, AU, fandomless, etc… friendly!

Besides the obvious fact I won't rp smut or ship with minor muns/muses whatsoever, do not follow me if you're underage. This because I feel uncomfortable interacting with minor muns due to the huge age gap that might be between us. (Mun is currently 25 as I write this) Please, don't take it too personally, it's just for my own comfort. Furthermore, if your rules and age (mun is 18+, mun is 23, mun is of age and so on...) are not present on your blog I won’t rp with you at all. Lying about your age will result into a permablock and reported. The same applies if you're underage or your age is not stated and you dare to interact in any kind of NSFW way with me (This also includes liking/commenting my nsfw posts or sending me nsfw asks)

I refuse to ship/interact with: aged up muses (Nunu, Annie, Zoe etc…) and only smut-oriented blogs since they both make me uncomfortable. So, please, if you’re one of these blogs do not follow me.

No godmodding. If our muses are fighting, I’d like to discuss first with the other mun, in order to avoid it as much as possible;

I don’t like “follow for following me back, and if you don’t follow me I’ll unfollow you“ philosophy because I find this kinda disrespectful. I’m also available to interact with you even if we’re not mutuals! Usually, the reasons why I unfollow you are these: spamming too much without using a proper tag, talking shit about other people here on tumblr, spreading useless drama or rumors, posting stuff that makes me uncomfortable or if I somehow assume you’re not interested to interact with me.DMS are always open for plotting!

Currently available verses: Canon, Odyssey, Modern/Academy, Bloodmoon, Deity Please, before interacting with my muse in one of these verses make sure to read the lore and, if something is not clear to you, dm me anytime!;

I’ll try to match length more or less, so don’t worry about that. And please, TAKE YOUR TIME to reply. I have a life too, so don’t worry I’m not the one who runs after others! I tend to easily forget threads, so if I didn’t reply to our thread for like a couple of days dm me!;

I do believe in reblog karma, it’s your choice to send me a meme, but please reblog it from the source and not from me if you don’t want to send me one. If you reblog a meme from me without sending me one for more than once, I’ll block you. I’m sorry about this rule, but after some time this becomes quite annoying;

Any kind of hate toward a nationality/gender/sexual orientation and so on will result in a report and permablock. I believe everyone should respect a person, regardless of their gender/ethnicity/sexual orientation. If you don’t, you’ll get permablocked. Period. The same goes for every kind of insult or anon hate toward me, a ship or a friend: not only you’ll be ignored, but, if it is necessary, I’ll report and permablock you.

This blog is against any kind of fake/unfounded rumors and drama. I'll only reblog callouts that provide evidence about the problematic individual, and mostly about extremely serious topics (like minor hunters, abusers or if someone who is seriously in danger) I'm not afraid to callout people if they have a problematic/gross behavior or if they support/justify problematic/disturbing/traumatic topics.

I won’t rp and tolerate extremely disturbing topics like incest, rape (non-con/dub-con as well), pedophilia, child/animal abuse, and similar. The same goes for every kind of ship where these themes are involved. Mentioning these topics during a thread is okay (For example if you’re talking about your muse’s past), but I’d rather talk with the mun first so we can plot things properly.

Any jokes about child death, rape, racism, disability, sexism and so on are not allowed here. If I see one of them, I may go to your dms and telling you that’s not okay writing these things because they’re harmful, and to stop with that stuff. If you’ll ignore/insult/make fun of me you’ll be permablocked. [Added: 09/07/2019]

This blog may contain triggers such as blood, angst, smoke, drugs, gore, mental health etc. I’ll tag everything and I’ll use “read more”. (I’ll tag my triggers using, for example, “tw: blood” without air quotes) Before rping this stuff with you, I’ll always ask you if you’re okay with it, so do please tell me if you have any triggers or I should tag something specific in my blog! For example, my muse, when she’s overwhelmed by certain feelings or recalls what happened to her kin, she bleeds from her mouth and sternal scar. Please, if this makes you feel uncomfortable don’t be afraid to tell me it; Regarding sexual content, it will also be present, especially during Sinday, but I will always tag everything accordingly and put everything under read more.

Please, tag these two topics: needles and stepping on people. I feel extremely uncomfortable regarding the latter because it's heavily connected with animal abuse, and it makes me feel so sick I start to panic. I only ask you to tag these two topics.

I’m a human being, and sometimes I make mistakes too. If I made something that offended you/made you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I want to learn from my mistakes.

Shipping rules:

Even if I’m more than aware of the fact an 18+ mun is legally an adult, I realized I feel more comfortable shipping with both muns/muses who are 20+, especially in the case there will be some nsfw. That’s my personal preference, and this is NOT negotiable and it will NEVER be.[added 06/05/2019]

If you don’t want to keep our ship going on, that’s TOTALLY OKAY. I will NEVER get mad at you, neither asking you the motivation. If you don’t feel comfortable anymore, that’s okay and I respect your decision!

This blog is multiship exclusive, that means I'll only ship with one muse/au of that muse. Furthermore, I'll be highly selective with whom I ship with, and I mostly prioritize people I've been friends with for a long time. [EXCLUSIVE SHIP LIST]

I state in advance I don’t ship my muse with Diana, since she sees her as a mother-like figure. So… This basically would be incest, and I feel very uncomfortable with it. Furthermore, I won’t ship with Taric, Leona, Aurelion, Soraka, Zoe (But this is almost needless to say since she’s a minor, but prevention is always better than the cure), and yordles.

Even if I’m extremely fine with a platonic/non-sexual relationship, I’m also okay with some smut and that may occur with a serious plot, and ONLY if I feel comfortable and I trust my rp partner enough. Unfortunately, I don’t feel very comfortable rping it on Tumblr, and I’d rather rp it on Discord. [Please check the smut rules here] DON’T FORCE IT WITH ME, otherwise the ship will be deleted and probably I’ll block you too.

My muse is a revenant (I’m talking about her canon verse. In Odyssey! and Modern! she’s a living being) and NO, shipping with her is NOT necrophilia (She’s NOT a lifeless, nonsentient, smelly and rotten body who cannot give consent. She has revived thanks to Targon/Moon’s magic, and she’s ABLE to consent and she doesn’t smell bad, she’s not rotting and so on). I’m writing this because I’m kinda sick of this subject because “Shipping with Ernye/Pyke/Thresh/Kalista/Yone is necrophilia1111!!1!!”, and I’m more than sure these people are the first who fall in love with a vampire. If I receive any anon asks about this stuff in which there’s written I cannot ship her with anyone or other offensive things toward me or my muse (both ic and ooc), I’ll ignore and permablock them. No matter who’s the person who sent this. Again: I’m sick and tired of this stuff because basically there’s no problem in shipping with a psycho who can basically kill/abuse you any moment, meanwhile, GOD FORBID a revenant/vampire and stuff like that. So, better safe than sorry. If this bothers you so much you can unfollow me.

Respect my right to say “NO” if I don’t want to ship with your muse. So, don’t force it or I’ll block you.;

About the Mun:

You can call me Silkie, and I’m 25 years old;

Discord for mutuals only;

Pronouns: she/her (They/Them is also fine, if you feel more comfortable with it, no worries);

Chickens, cats, chinchillas, and Castlevania addicted;

I consider myself as a friendly person, so if you wanna know me or rp with me just send me a message! I suffer from diagnosed GAD and depression, so I really need time to open up to people and my activity may be sporadic because of this. And, please: if I make/say something that makes you feel uncomfortable TELL ME ANYTIME since I never mean to hurt anyone here through my words or acts;

Remember Muse ≠ Mun. Ernye’s actions don’t reflect my personality, or what I think about you;

Please DON’T FLIRT WITH ME, it makes me extremely anxious and uncomfortable due to many awful experiences I had in the past, and also because rp is a hobby and I want to have fun, and I’m not looking for a romantic partner. If you ignore my warnings I’ll permablock you. And yes, this also applies to every NSFW question about me. If you dare to do so you’ll get immediately reported, permablocked and the whole chatlog saved. I will also NOT tolerate any kind of NSFW anon ask about me.

The cringy art you see on my profile is made by me unless stated otherwise. Constructive criticism and bits of advice are more than welcome and encouraged ♥

[ If you have read my rules send me “Has the killing moon come for them?” That’s optional, of course, you don’t have to send it to me!]

#mobile friendly rules #the sun is rising (ooc)#oh boy i’m moonstruck again (spamalot)#when I'll make a decent promo post about my blog I'll use this post!

4 notes · View notes

akirakurusufoollink · 7 years

Text

Pegoryu Prompt: Red String Pt 1

@twilightkargarok @celestialxskye

This is gonna be a two part fic. I’m almost done with it, but posting a long work on mobile is a beezy. Also sorry it took so long. Enjoy, babes! ———–

In Ryuji’s dreams, he sees a red thread connecting him into the void. The blond follows it further and further into the depths. This is so strange, but he doesn’t question it. He would take any company in these dark, lonely dreams. Deeper in he runs in this space where his leg no longer hurts him. Where he might find someone who will stand beside him. Who does fate have in store for this boy abandoned by everything he once held so tightly? The darkness melts away.

Suddenly he is walking the halls of Shujin Academy. A heavy sigh escapes from him. This person is someone he’ll meet at school? He tugs at the thread, winding it around his wrist. Everyone passes by him. He stops in front of one of the classrooms on the second floor where the thread slips beneath the door. This is it. He will finally see who will be the one he’s destined for. He gulps and tentatively reaches out to slide the door open.

The room pulsates. Hulking creatures in suits of armor surround an unseen person. They grab at them and throw punches. Groans of pain and wet splatting sounds pervade the air. Kamoshida stands there at the teacher’s desk, lording above all of them. His eyes are yellow and crazed. The vulgar boy’s heart sinks into his stomach.

Not him…This asshole isn’t taking something important away from him again. Anger wells up within Ryuji. Something unstoppable fuels his actions as he makes his way to the edge of the crowd. No one notices. He’s invisible to these monsters, but not for long. None of these weird freaks in armor are gonna stop him. He psyches himself to shove his way through.

“Eff off!” The blond explodes into action. He shoves his way to the center of the fray.

Kamoshida eyes up the blond and cuts him off, leaping into the center of the horde of armored soldiers. As Ryuji reaches the center, Kamoshida snatches up the object of the blond’s desires by the throat. The vulgar boy stops in his tracks. The figure’s hands hang limply, with the thread wafting from the left ring finger. A mop of dark hair covers their facial features.

“What? You thought you could escape me?” The older man sneers and gives a wicked cackle. “I broke you and destroyed your future. You think I can’t take him from you too?” He hoists the figure higher, revealing that it’s wearing a boy’s uniform for Shujin Academy.

“Him?” Ryuji is incredulous. The one at the other end of the red thread is a guy? He seems to be, handsome, at least what he can see of the boy. His sculpted features make Ryuji blush slightly.

“Yes, a guy that is just as worthless as you.” The man gives a possessive stroke to the dark haired boy’s head. “Oh yes, if only this were a girl. I could take so much more from you both.” His lips twist up in a disgusting, perverted smile. That trashy bastard even has the nerve to plant a kiss on the boy’s neck.

Kamoshida takes pleasure in watching Ryuji’s disgusted face before he dumps the figure onto the ground. Thinking that he can squeeze just a bit more emotion from the blond, he jerks the brunet up by his bangs. A white mask clatters to the ground. Finally the blond can see the object of his destiny. Ryuji’s face burns with a deep blush. This boy’s face is gorgeous. Glasses cover grey eyes that are half lidded under red blood. Red as the rage within Ryuji’s heart. Red like the thread that binds them. It drips from his forehead, along the sides of his nose, and down to the corners of his shapely mouth.

“Ryuji…” Quivers out of his lips that are being stained in red.

Red cascades over everything. It distorts Kamoshida’s maniacal features. It covers all of the knights. It even covers the dark haired boy and pulls him down into the darkness. He reaches out for Ryuji and the blond reaches back. This can’t be happening. That asshole of a teacher is denying him happiness even in his dreams. He fights against the dark currents whisking away this boy away. He struggles hard against the dark waves of the abyss until his fingers are just barely able to brush against those of the bespectacled brunet. They both struggle to grab onto one another, but the slick dark ooze makes them both slip off of one another.

“Stay with me!” Ryuji shouts down at the brunet.

The brunet smiles up at him, no longer able to keep his head from sinking. Ryuji begins to cry, this feeling of helplessness is too much for him. He can’t stop the boy from drowning in this hell. All that is left with Ryuji is the red stains from the brunet’s blood. The void disappears, leaving him behind and alone again. The glasses come floating back up to the surface. Ryuji picks them up with trembling hands and holds them close to his chest. He will remember this face. That pale skin and sleek features. That head of messy dark hair. Those eyes that he could lose himself in. Eyes that burn with disdain for this fate. He will save this person. Kamoshida will not take this away. He sinks down into the abyss. Black and red fill his vision, then nothing.

Ryuji bolts awake. Sweat trickles down his forehead. He stares out his window into the night, the glow of streetlights and electric signs filter into his room, with the low hum of the evening club crowd. He sighs and flops back down to his mattress. Shadows play on his ceiling in vague shapes. One almost looks like the guy from his dreams. He reaches up and gives the jaw line a mock caress. He wonders if he’ll see this mysterious boy soon. Part of him hopes that he doesn’t, just so Kamoshida doesn’t have something else to take away from him. Ryuji is disappointed in himself. The features of dream boy are starting to become hazy, but those eyes are still there in all of their intense glory. He grasps at the air, almost hoping to capture that image and store it away. His arm drops and drapes across his eyes. Why is he still crying?

A month passes in a flash. Another day of being late to classes, on day one no less. The rain is coming down in buckets. Along with the added bonus that he just so happens to not have an umbrella since genius him decided to stay up playing the new Neo Featherman game instead of going to bed on time. Even worse is that the trains are all messed up from that incident where the bullet train driver lost his mind. Every line is congested and the entrances are switched all over the pace. And then he sees it. The worst thing he could possibly see this crappy morning. That asshole, Kamoshida, ushering Ann into his car. The hell is up with her being involved with a guy like that any way? The rage bubbling in his head translates to his eyes and face. He almost doesn’t notice that he ran past a cute looking guy.

“Dammit…Screw that pervy teacher.” Ryuji hisses out.

“Pervy teacher?” The brunet inquires in a low melodic voice. Where has Ryuji heard it before. It sounds so familiar.

The phone in the bespectacled boy’s hand starts sounding off a weird alarm, or app response. Both the boy and his phone attract the blond’s attention. He turns around and eyes the guy up. They’re about the same height. This guy has a little bit better posture than himself. He is also kind of a good boy looking person, wearing his uniform all proper n’ shit. It kinda pisses him off that this goody two shoes almost sounds like he’s mocking him. This kid really wants an ass kicking. The blonde squares up and gets up in the brunet’s face.

“…What do you want?” It comes out more like a sneer than a legitimate question. He’s almost glad that it sounds that way, maybe this guy will startle a bit and not be such a smart ass. “You plannin’ on rattin’ me out to Kamoshida?”

“Kamoshida?” The brunet seems genuinely confused, but unfazed by how gruff Ryuji was being. It’s almost impressive, but to not know who coach asshole is…

“Huh? In that car just now. It was Kamoshida.” His brown eyes narrow and betray every feeling he has for that rat bastard. “He does whatever the hell he wants.” The words keep spilling out, he doesn’t even know this kid, yet he feels comfortable telling him this shit. “Who does he think he is-the king of a castle? Don’t you agree?”

“King of a castle?” The shaggy haired boy just seems more confused.

“No, I mean…” Now he’s the one confused. Does this boy really not know? “…Wait. You don’t know Kamoshida? Are you for real?” He folds his arms across his chest and assesses this goody two shoes, know nothing guy. “You’re from Shujin, right?”

“You go to Shujin too?” The brunet’s grey eyes light up. God…where has he seen those eyes? He looks him over again. The pin on his lapel indicates 2nd year.

“A second-year, huh… We’re in the same grade then.” He can’t help but stare now. He has to remember him, for some reason this guy feels important to him. It’s not coming to him. “Never seen you before though.” His brows furrow, the brunet seems to be feeling a little awkward as well. Then it dawns on him. “Oh, you a transfer student?”

“Yeah, I just moved here a few days ago.” This guy’s smile…Ryuji can’t help but smile back at him. His heart feels just a little bit lighter. His posture relaxes.

“Then no wonder you don’t know him.” The tone of his voice is a total 180, he could probably even pass for friendly now. This day has gotten slightly better. “This rain ain’t too bad. We better hurry up, or we’ll be late.”

A violent ringing noise sounds off in both Ryuji’s and the brunet’s ears. They clutch at their foreheads in agony. Ryuji feels like he could topple over from how excruciating this headache is. What the hell is up with this? Just as this day was looking just a little better.

“Uuugh, my head hurts…” He looks up at the sky and hefts out a sigh. “Dammit… I wanna go home…” At least there he may be able to remember what the person from his dream looked like. He’s been trying to remember for weeks. Shoulda written down a description or something.

The two start their trudge toward the school. They weave through back alleys, lined with cooling fans and water pipes. The ringing sound still persists. The air doesn’t feel right at all. At least this new guy is on his heels just in case anything out of the ordinary happens. Ryuji can hear every time the brunet pauses due to the lack of splashing through the deep puddles in the walkway. He wonders if this guy feels the same way about this place. He reaches where Shujin should be…the keyword “should”, but there in its place is a big, stinking, medieval castle.

“Wha…” Ryuji is dumbfounded. There is nothing that could ever prepare him for this shit so early in the school year. What in the ever loving fuck is this?

The brunet comes rushing up the alley. At least he’s still here. He’s not alone in this crazy experience. Or rather, hopefully he isn’t alone. He would rather not be hallucinating things. He looks around, back at the alley way.

“We didn’t…come the wrong way though…” He turns back to the castle. This is the school that he’s been coming to for the past year, but it’s not. “Yeah, this should be right…” Now he’s really not so sure of himself.

Nothing is right today. Not the rain. Not the train. Not the teacher. And definitely not the school. The place is bathing in a sickeningly reddish hue. The ringing sound is persisting like no other. Everything feels totally out of whack.

“What’s going on here?” Ryuji looks at the brunet, who looks equally as nervous. Poor guy. His first day here and the school is totally fucked up. Time to suck it up and try to sound confidant. He doesn’t want this poor, cute nerd to lose his shit right now. “I guess we’ll just have to go ask.”

#pegoryu #pegoryu prompts #akira kusuru #ryuji sakamoto #early game #fanfiction #persona 5 #long post

73 notes · View notes

superhusbands4ever · 7 years

Text

Yay post-AoU pre-stevetony angst. Much feels. Also, I have this headcanon that Tony is a really good singer so bear with me. He’s singing the acoustic version of this song.

Steve pressed his palms into his eyes trying to get rid of the images that were burned into them. It had been nearly six months, but the nightmares induced from Ultron's attacks still snuck up on him sometimes.

Every time he closed his eyes he thought about it. Ultron killing Tony before he could figure out what the machine was, what it would do, or how to stop it. The Avengers trying their hardest to think of a solution but unable to do anything. Steve gripping tightly to anything he could get his hands on as he tried not to fly off the floating city as it fell back towards the earth. Bracing for impact, closing his eyes so he wouldn't see when they finally hit, begging for a painless death, thinking to whatever would be left of the world, of humanity, please... please forgive us--

He shook his head, quickly reminding himself that it had not happened. Tony was still alive. They had defeated Ultron. And while they hadn't saved Sokovia, they had saved as many as they could and saved the rest of the world along with them.

He was just about to turn the corner to head towards the kitchen when he heard something coming from the other end of the hall. It was faint like it was coming from far away, but he recognized the sounds of someone singing and a piano being played.

Forgetting about his glass of water, he turned and followed the sound. He followed it deeper and deeper into the compound until he realized he was in an area he never went to very often. It was far into the compound, past the storage rooms and the rooms containing FRIDAY's servers.

When he reached the last room on the hall he saw the door cracked open, but the music had stopped.

(mobile, watch the cut)

Steve quietly pushed the door open and was surprised to see Tony sitting at a beautiful grand piano. It was the only thing in the dark room, illuminated only by the light of the moon streaming in the floor to ceiling windows. He was staring at his hands resting on the piano with an expression Steve couldn't identify. He thought that maybe Tony was done for the night when Tony gently pushed his fingers down into the keys, playing the beginning notes to a new song. It was beautiful and haunting, a song Steve didn't recognize.

"Oh, dear mother, I love you. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. Dear father, forgive me. 'Cause in your eyes I just never added up. In my heart I know I failed you, but you left me here alone..."

Steve stepped into the room, listening to the heartbreaking words of the song and trying to ignore the clench in his chest that he felt listening to Tony sing. Tony's voice tenor voice rang out smooth and full, the emotion behind every note and every word clear in his tone.

"If I could hold back the rain, would you numb the pain? 'Cause I remember everything..."

It was clear the words in the song meant something to Tony, it was easy to read from the pained expression on Tony's face. His eyes slipped closed, and he began pressing the keys a little harder.

"I feel like running away, I feel so far from home. You say that I'll never change but what the fuck do you know..."

Steve could feel the emotion pouring from Tony and he felt his eyes start to water and his throats begin to tighten. He knew Tony had been having a rough time of it since Ultron but, God, was this really how Tony felt?

Tony's voice tapered off and the music got lighter. Tony's voice broke as he sang and for a moment Steve thought he was actually crying. He got the feeling he was intruding on an extremely private moment.

"I remember... everything...."

He stood and waited in the doorway until the song finally came to and end, and Tony was once again staring at his hands that were resting on the piano. There was silence for a moment, and Steve was just about to turn around sneak away so he wouldn't get caught when-

"So, you enjoy the show?"

Steve froze like a deer caught in headlights. He turned around slowly, his brows furrowing in concern when Tony reached under the piano, pulled out a bottle of bourbon and drank straight from the bottle. Luckily it was still mostly full, but Steve didn't know how much Tony had been drinking before then.

"I... I didn't mean... I heard the music and was curious, I-"

"Steve," Tony smiled at him, but it didn't hold and humor in it. "It's fine. Come sit down."

Steve walked cautiously into the room, almost as though he were approaching a dangerous animal, and carefully slid onto the seat next to Tony. One hand around the bottle, the other hand moved slowly across the keys of the piano, lightly playing what Steve recognized to be the opening of Fur Elise.

"I didn't know you could play."

"Oh, you know." Tony took a quick swing from the bottle, his other hand not stopping its playing. "All us rich kids learn to play piano at some point."

Tony offered the bottle to Steve, but Steve shook his head and waved it off. Tony took another drink.

"Just piano?"

"Among other things. Actually, it was my mom who taught me how to play. She thought it might help calm me down or something. She was really good at it too, and she was so patient with me...."

Tony had a soft smile on his face at the thought of his mother, and Steve tried to cover his flinch at Tony's words. Steve stared down at his clenched fists in his lap. You know what you should do, he thought to himself. You've been waiting for an opening and here it is. Take it.

"Tony, I need--"

"You know, the last memory I have of my mother is her playing the piano. Right before they left for that trip? I had just gotten home for Christmas. My dad and I had a fight that morning, we were always fighting, you know? She was singing to me, trying to get me to relax."

Steve's breath caught in his throat, his words choking him.

"Before they left she tried to convince me to make up with him. Forgive and forget I guess, it's not like we hadn't fought before. But I could smell the alcohol on his breath and I knew it was useless. There was no point trying to talk to him when he's like that. So I didn't say anything. And then they were gone."

"Ton--"

"That's probably why they crashed, that drunken asshole. That night fucked me up for a long time. Still does."

Steve was still now, looking at Tony with wide eyes, hoping the despair he could feel coursing through his body wasn't showing on his face.

"Wow, that got dark," Tony said with a humorless laugh, eyes on the bottle in his hand. He carefully placed it back on the floor. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dump that on you. It is way to early for this kind of talk and I am nowhere near drunk enough to think about it."

Steve shook his head, his jaw clenched, unsure what to say.

"So, uh," Tony glanced over at Steve out of the corner of his eye, fingers moving lightly across the piano, playing a mindless tune. "You needed to tell me something?"

"Yeah," Steve managed to choke out. He cleared his throat. "I need to tell you... well, I...."

Should he tell Tony when he's already emotionally compromised? Should he wait to tell him until he was sober? He deserves to know, his mind reminded him. They were his parents, his family. You got mad at him for keeping secrets during Ultron.

Tony was looking at him now, brows furrowed in concern.

Come on, Rogers, just spit it out. 'Hydra killed your parents', say it, like a band-aid, just-

"Sam and Wanda broke the TV in the recreation hall."

Coward.

"Oh, yeah," Tony said, chuckling a bit. "I know. Vision told me after dinner. I'll replace it, don't worry about it."

"Okay... yeah. Good."

Fucking hypocrite.

Tony stood and yawned, stretched his arms above his head, and Steve desperately tried not to look at the way his shirt rose just a bit to expose tan skin, or think about how Tony's sweatpants sat low on his hips, and he could see the patch of hair going down to-

You don't get to think about him like that now. Not while you're lying to him.

"Well if that's all I should probably head up to bed," Tony said, reaching down to grab the bottle. "Got a meeting in the morning with some government hack. Sounded pretty important."

Steve nodded, not really trusting his voice at that moment.

"Goodnight, Steve," Tony said quietly, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder for a moment before walking about of the room.

"'Night," Steve whispered, though he was sure Tony didn't hear him.

His shoulder was cold as ice where Tony's hand had been. He felt a tide of guilt and self-loathing tear through his body and felt sick to his stomach. He buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore how much they were shaking.

It was right there, right on the tip of his tongue. Tony, Hydra killed your parents.

He thought about the way Tony had looked talking about his mother. The way Tony always avoided conversations about his father, and when he did talk about Howard, it was usually nothing positive. Maybe it was right not to tell him? If Tony had been blaming Howard for the crash for this long, hating his father for killing his mother when he was actually innocent, that would have crushed him. That would have thrown Tony's mind and emotions completely out of wack. It would have destroyed him.

He still deserved to know though, a small, traitorous voice in his mind reminded him. That's not your call to make.

Steve would tell him. He knew he would. One day. He just had to wait for the right time. Like now had been a good time. But next opportunity he got, he'd tell Tony, he swore.

He'd tell Tony. He would.

more fic under ‘cady writes’ tag

#cady writes #stevetony #stony #stevetony fic #stony fic #angst #you may or may not be able to consider this #a prequel to my cacw fix it #that will come much much later

97 notes · View notes

mellowsobri · 8 years

Text

Heart Race [George Weasley x Reader]

A/N: I’ve literally posted this like six times because I can’t figure out how to italicize on mobile because the mobile version is trash lmao I’m so mad rn ugggh. I tried that stupid code italicize but it didn’t work but it works when I test it out and ugghhh I hate this app

Word Count: 3,340

Warnings: mild language like twice. Not proof read. Possible ooc characters.

Summary: (Name) met George in her third year after being pushed down. After another year, what will happen when George has to find a way to keep his feelings for her in check?

Masterlist

To say she was shy would be an understatement.

She had a quiet voice, but a loud mind. That loud mind of hers was full of brilliant facts and opinions, but the quiet voice that she had held everything back.

And to say that it bothered George would be an understatement as well.

No, George was almost offended that she refused to speak your mind. He couldn’t really understand why (Name) felt the need to hide all of her wonderful thoughts, but that didn’t mean he didn’t respect it.

George and his twin met (Name) when she came to Hogwarts at the age of eleven. At the time they were second years who in all honesty didn’t care much for her.

It’s not like they disliked her, they just didn’t know her well enough to care.

However, that all changed when they witnessed her being pushed down in her third year by some fourth year jerks.

She was walking by the windows, admiring the snow falling outside. She looked so dazed and intrigued with the winter scenery that she didn’t even realize she had bumped into rude some Ravenclaws. The duo of twins happened to be walking by at this time, only stopped to watch a prank they planned out unfold.

Time seemed to stop for her when she was told to ‘watch where she was going’ followed by two hands forcefully shoving her to the ground, causing her to drop two books and shatter the small potted plant she was holding.

(Name) looked as if she was about to burst into tears at that very moment, pitifully trying to sweep over the shards of pottery that used to make up an elegant plant pot.

The Weasley twins were very easygoing. That much was obvious. But they were also kindhearted, and they sure weren’t going stand by and let some innocent girl get pushed down right in front of them.

The two agreed that George would comfort the girl and Fred would ‘take care of’ the Ravenclaws.

George bent down after watching his brother run after the students to (Name’s) level. He put on a sweet smile and offered to help her.

“Hello there. Are you okay?” He questioned as he picked up a piece of coral colored pottery. The girl shook her head and sniffled. “M-My… Uh, my plant… It’s ruined…” She frowned at the small branches that had begun to sprout which had broke off the trunk of the growing plant. A few flower buds in the midst had fallen off and been stomped on as well. George smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure we can get you a new one!”

(Name) shook her head again. “Th-They don’t grow here… My mum sent it to me… The buds were supposed to, um, let you visualize your happiest memories when consumed…” He could tell that she was trying her hardest not to start sobbing at that very moment. Her lip was quivering and her voice was cracking.

“Oh… I’m terribly sorry… Those guys were a bunch of dirtbags anyways,” George chuckled, holding up a handful of soil for comedic effect. (Name’s) eyes widened a bit and she looked at him, almost surprised.

“They just need to leaf if they’re going to act that bitter.” He smiled and held up a tiny green leaf that had fallen off of a branch.

(Name) started to smile the tiniest bit, her forming tears drying up.

“They must have some pretty nasty roots if they act like that!” He cracked another pun, gesturing to the plant’s root. His smile widened when he noticed (Name) was starting to giggle lightly.

He held out his hand for a handshake despite it being covered in dirt.

“I’m George, by the way. George Weasley.”

She looked at it for a while, hesitating. Finally, she shook it, her hand as equally dirty. She offered him the smallest of smiles. “(Name). (Name) (Last Name)… W-Was, uh… Was that your brother, George?” The ginger nodded eagerly, as if showing off his older twin.

“Yeah. His name is Fred, but trust me, I’m the cooler one.” (Name) laughed at this, causing George to grin brightly and offer her a hand up.

“Let’s go!” (Name) looked at him, confusion evident in her expression.

“Wh-What..?”

“I’ve been saving a stash of sweets my mum sent me over the years. I think now is a good time to crack it open, yeah?” George smiled, watching her face light up.

“Y-Yes, please..!”

“Come on, then!”

George smiled at the small memory. She hadn’t changed a bit. She was still timid, still sensitive, and still somewhat of an emotional crybaby.

Not that it was a bad thing, though. In fact, George found it quite… Well, for a lack of better words, cute.

And with this thought, the younger Weasley twin recalled the very moment he started falling for (Name).

It was no surprise that he found himself blushing and becoming nothing more than a flustered mess around her. She was kind, selfless, and cared for almost anyone no matter how rude they were to her.

He remembered the day Malfoy made something of a harsh insult to her and she smiled sadly and just said, “I’m sorry you feel that way”.

It was a cold day in December. Snow fell and decorated the entire castle with glistening white flakes.

Fred, of course, had caught on to the little hint that George was infatuated with the shy fourth year. Him, being his brother, always teased him about it. Internally, he was happy his younger brother had found someone that he knew would be good to him.

The three were heading outside, snow clothes equipped.

All of the sudden, Fred excused himself saying that “he had something dreadfully important to take care of”. George had discreetly stomped in his brother’s foot, followed by a grunt of pain from Fred and a sarcastic smile from George. (Name) had no idea or even acknowledged what was going on as she had been gazing at the snowflakes fall to the ground with a dreamy smile.

As Fred snuck away with a mischievous chuckle, George stared longingly at (Name) with the same dazed look in his eyes.

There she was, nose and cheeks red and eyes sparkling with interest. Her soft exhaling crated puffs of air in the wind. She looked as if she was in an entirely different world than anyone else.

Soft crystals landed in her hair and eyelashes, them it shimmer. Her lips were curled up only in the slightest.

(Name) turned her head, staring at him with red cheeks. He couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from embarrassment. “Ah… Sorry, I was being weird…” Her voice, like always, was soft. It sounded as if it could break like glass at any moment.

“You weren’t being weird!” George sputtered out. He looked down, knowing that must’ve come out way too fast for his own liking. “I mean, uh… What I meant is that you’re not weird. You were just admiring the scenery!” He kept out the part that he was also 'admiring the scenery’, but it wasn’t the snow

The two walked side by side out to a clearing. The snow was about three inches, barely above their ankles. It crunched under their feet, creating a satisfying sound.

“H-Hey… Where did Fred go?” (Name) looked around, hair moving with her head. She just realized he was gone? “He had to… Uh, finish homework…”

Wow. That’s the best he could do?

However, (Name) didn’t protest his reasoning. “Oh… Well that’s good, that, um.. He’s getting his work done, that is…” she said meekly. The strong wind made her quiet voice sound almost silent.

“Are you disappointed he isn’t here?” George asked sheepishly.

(Name) shook her head slowly. “Um, no… N-Not that Fred is bad, though..! B-But I do enjoy spending time with just you, George…” she mumbled with a small smile on her face. George felt his heart pound.

Bu-dump!

How was he supposed to respond to that? She probably meant it platonically, anyways…

Bu-dump!

She sighed, looking at the sky.

Bu-dump!

“It’s so pretty… Each snowflake is made differently from the other…” she said airily. George just happened to take notice of how bright and innocent her eyes were, how soft her skin looked, how her smooth lips were almost begging to be touched.

Bu-dump! Bu-dump! Bu-dump!

He cringed, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

Bu-dump! Bu-dump! Bu-dump!

She looked at him with a sweet smile, light pink colored lipgloss shining. “George, are you happy?”

Bu-dump! Bu-dump! Bu-dump!

Happy? He was ecstatic. How could he not be? She was here with him. She was here with him alone, a smile only he got to see. A voice only he got to hear for the time being. Eyes that were purely focused on him and him alone.

Bu-dump! Bu-dump! Bu-dump!

“Of course…” He felt himself getting shy and flustered. But boy, was it hard when she looked at him with such a face. All he wanted to do was pull her close to his body and press a chaste kiss to her forehead, her body much smaller than his towering form. He wanted her to wrap her dainty arms around him, snuggling into his chest.

Bu-dump! Bu-dump! Bu-dump!

“(Name)… I just…” he started. She looked at him with curious eyes. “Yes, George..?”

“I just have to tell you… I—”

Bam!

He felt a stinging burn on the back of his head. It dripped down into his coat, making his shoulders tense up and his toes curl.

“Ronald! What did you do?!” Hermione scolded. Ron chuckled, tossing a snowball up and down.

George turned around to see his younger sibling, being smacked by Hermione.

He would have to remind himself to beat Ron up later.

Oh, how he regret that day. He should’ve told her everything he felt, despite being hit with a snowball.

From that day, his feelings only continued to grow. He was basically suffering.

And Fred noticed this. He felt bad for his brother, but he didn’t exactly know how to help him.

The two brothers were currently in a courtyard, George pacing a bit and Fred standing against a brick pillar.

And (Name)… Well, she was probably off doing something with plants or books. Either that or napping.

“And did you see the way she looked at Neville? Neville! Neville Longbottom!” George fumed. Fred laughed and crossed his arms. “I think your overreacting. Those two have been friends since the moment they stepped foot onto the Platform.”

George sighed, feeling bad for getting partially mad at Neville, someone who had nothing to do with his deathly brilliant love for (Name).

“Listen, Georgie,” Fred started. “Just ask (Name) out, yeah?” He walked over to him and slung an arm over his brother’s shoulders.

“You’ve been friends for what..? A year and a half or so…?” Fred smiled sincerely. George lowered his head and nodded. “Man up, then! If not, she’ll be snagged away by some other tosser.” Fred twirled his finger before shooting a finger at (Name), whom they had been looking for, shying away from a fifth year Slytherin. She didn’t seem interested, much to George’s joy, but the guy didn’t seem to want to back up.

George stopped halfway through trying to get to (Name) before Fred had placed a hand on his shoulder, as if saying 'Let me handle this’.

“Oi, Robinson! I’m a beater for a reason, yeah?” Fred’s unexpected shouting startled (Name), obvious from the jump she performed and her widened eyes.

Andrew Robinson looked scared almost, starting to back away before breaking out in a full sprint with Fred hot on his tail.

(Name) watched as the two boys ran down the hall, one screaming for the other to 'piss off’ and the other laughing. She sighed, looking around until her eyes landed on George who was looking right back at her.

“Oh, hello Georgie… I should’ve figured if Fred was here you would be here too…” He nodded once in reply.

“Was that guy bothering you? What’s his name…? Andre Robbins?”

“Andrew Robinson… We were partners in Potions once, and since then he hasn’t really left me alone… But I don’t know how to tell him to stop,” she muttered, clutching the end of her robe’s sleeve.

“Well in that case, we’ll just have to stay together! Fred and I will scare him off!” (Name’s) face lit up. She hesitated before wrapping her arms gingerly around George. He recoiled in shock, causing (Name) to immediately step back. “I-I’m sorry…! That was a stupid thing to do..!” Her entire face was red and she was waving her hands wildly. George looked at her, and frankly she looked like a nervous mess. He smiled softly at her and gently hugged her, ceasing her rapid movements.

Bu-dump!

He tried not to think about how warm she was, despite the cold weather.

Bu-dump!

He tried not to think about how the faint scent of peppermint and coffee rested on her.

Bu-dump!

He tried not to think about the feeling of her snuggling comfortably into his chest.

Bu-dump!

He tried not to think about how perfectly their bodies fit together like a puzzle piece.

Bu-dump!

He prayed that she couldn’t hear his heart beating wildly.

She could, but it drew a sweet smile to her face.

She tried not to think about his large hands caressing her back in soothing motions.

Bu-dump!

She tried not to think about how incredibly right it felt to be pressed against him, as if this was the thing she had been missing her entire life.

Bu-dump!

His head was lowered, savoring the feeling he’s been longing for for what seemed like forever.

“Go out on a date with me…” George mumbled, arms tightening slightly around her. She doesn’t move. Her voice was muffled, but still distinguishable. “What?”

“Will you go on a date with me..?” His voice was soft and mellow. She pulled back from him, cheeks rosy and a smile on her face. “Okay, George… I would love to…” Her voice was shaky and sincere.

Admittedly, (Name) had never been on a date before. She had 'experimented’ with some guys, but nothing ever got serious because she wasn’t comfortable.

She was beyond comfortable with George, but that only made her more nervous.

'You can’t screw this up, (Name)…’ She thought.

Looking in the mirror, she exhaled and smoothed out her navy blue skirt.

She wore a blue skater skirt that stopped at her mid thigh, along with black leggings underneath and black boots that came up an inch or two under her knee. A gray sweater and a white collared shirt underneath wasn’t too tight, nor was it too baggy. She didn’t do much to her hair, leaving it down and brushed.

Her makeup was natural, only having foundation, eyeliner, and her signature pink lipgloss.

… Was this too much..? Surely not… Well, at least she hoped not.

It was around seven o'clock when she left for the spot George told her to meet him at. It was right beside the courtyard. When she left, George was already there waiting for her. She eyes his outfit, internally relieved since he was as dressed up as she was.

“Oh, hey!” He smiled and walked towards her. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight and widened. “You look… Uh…” She panicked, lowering her head.

“I-I’m sorry..! The truth is I’ve never, um, never been on a date before.. I-I didn’t know how to dress and—!” He stopped her rambling.

“You look amazing, (Name),” he breathed. She calmed down, mildly embarrassed that she had freaked out. “Don’t be so tense, yeah?” He smiled and rubbed her arm reassuringly. “It’s just me.”

'Just me.’

Yeah, 'just him’. The 'just him’ that had made her stomach turn, cheeks brighten, and heart pound for months now.

She took a deep breath, nodding. “Thank you…”

“Of course.. Now…” He dug around in his pocket for a bit before pulling out a white ribbon. “I’m going to need you to close your eyes for a bit.”

She looked at him with a weird expression. It’s not like she didn’t trust him, but she was just curious as to what he was doing.

“I won’t try anything sketchy,” he laughed. She nodded slowly and complied, letting him tie the silk ribbon around her eyes.

She didn’t know where she was going, having George maneuver her around. All she felt was the wind against her and George’s warmth, as he had instructed her to hold onto him.

The wind stopped along with her. She was nudged onto some solid platform.

“Okay, I’m going to take the blindfold off now.” He did so, the ribbon falling on the ground below her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, taking in the scenery around her.

She was in what had to be the tallest tree in the forest, a flat branch that had evidently been carved to be shaped like an everyday housing hardwood floor. It was like an 8x8 wooden platform. She noticed that there were a few glass bottles of pumpkin juice and a wadded up blanket, indicating someone was up here.

But that wasn’t even the cool part.

In front of her was a dark blue sky, shining stars dotting the sky. The moon illuminated the scene nicely, creating a dim white light.

George watched with interest as she absorbed the landscape.

They were feet up off the ground, but neither of them seemed to be scared of heights.

“George, is this stuff yours..?” She asked, pointing towards the objects on the platform. He nodded once. “Fred and I come up here sometime.” He grinned and sat down, resting his back against the trunk. She sat down next to him after he gestured her to a seat next to him. The blanket was draped over her.

“This was really sweet of you… I love stars…” She beamed. He nodded with a grin. “I noticed… You love natural scenery, don’t you? Like snow and trees…” (Name) nodded in response.

“I do… I spend a lot of time looking out the window…” He noticed that as well. She was always dazed looking at the window, no matter where she was.

The two were staring at each other with a smile, shoulders touching and a blush forming on their cheeks.

“I remember the day I met you, George…” she mumbled. “I couldn’t have been more grateful… No one seemed to care when I got pushed down, you being the first…”

The two found themselves leaning in, only an inch or two apart.

“Yeah..? I don’t know who wouldn’t take notice of you..”

“You’d be surprised…” Her eyes were half lidded when George placed a gentle hand on her cheek and pressed his lips on hers, barely touching.

“(Name)..” His voice was airy and his heart felt like it was about to explode.

Finally, his lips fully connected with hers, closing his eyes. She did the same, cheeks burning.

Everything was silent. (Name’s) heart was swollen, almost crying at how happy she felt at that exact moment.

Bu-dump!

His hands were cupped around her cheeks, pulling her closer.

They parted gingerly, gazing at each other with the same mutual look filled with nothing but passion.

He smiled and intertwined his fingers with hers, warmth spreading through this body.

His heart continued to beat rapidly, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long now, (Name)… You have no idea…”

(Name) smiled softly, closing her eyes gently. “I’m so glad you helped me that day, Georgie… I’m so glad I met you…”

He pulled her in for another kiss, this one being shorter and less shaky.

Bu-dump! Bu-dump! Bu-dump!

The two stared into each others eyes, relishing in the fact that they would never let the other one go.

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #hp preference #Harry Potter preference #George Weasley #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley imagine #harry potter x reader

2K notes · View notes

corneliussteinbeck · 7 years

Text

GGS Spotlight: Jen De Mel

Name: Jen de Mel Age: 37 Location: London, UK

What does being a Girl Gone Strong mean to you? Being a Girl Gone Strong means feeling powerful instead of small. It means having confidence and being proud of what my body can do, and feeling good in my own skin.

When I think of GGS, I think about smart training and about having more meaningful training goals based on performance.

Being a GGS means influencing other women to accept and be proud of their bodies and not wanting to be a different body type that the one they have been blessed with.

How long have you been strength training, and how did you get started? I’ve been strength training since 2010, when I lost interest in doing things that made my body feel bad, such as partying too often and became more interested in doing things that made me feel good, such as training and being kind to myself.

What does your typical workout look like? Full-body workouts mainly strength with a cardio intervals finisher. For example…

Warm-up and mobility for the first 15 minutes:

Cat/Camel

Thoracic mobility, such as open book

Hip mobility, such as fire hydrants

Glute activation such as clamshells, hip bridge, x-band walks

Core activation such as bird dog, moving planks, dead bugs

Training session, 30 to 45 minutes. I prefer supersets because they feel more metabolic:

A1. Chin-Up 3xAMRAP A2. BB Split Squat 3×10

B1. Push-Up 3×10 B2. Romanian Deadlift 3×10

Finisher :30/:30 work/rest ratio

C1. Moving Plank C2. Kettlebell Swing C3. Ski Erg

By the way, the above is not an example of a typical pregnancy workout! Those are my typical go-to exercises if I’m not following a specific program. Pregnancy workouts have been shorter.

Warm-Up/Mobility:

A hip opener such as 90/90 split squat, pigeon stretch, and fire hydrant

Glute and core activation

Training session, 3-4 sets of 10 reps each:

A1. Seated Row A2. Goblet Squat or Romanian Deadlift A3. Alternating Leg Lowering or Band-Resisted Bird Dog A4. Hip Bridge variations

Finish with Intervals, 8-10 sets of :20/:40 work/rest ratio (usually ski erg and kettlebell swings), or with 30 minutes of steady-state cardio depending on time available.

Favorite Lift: Romanian Deadlift. What’s not to love? It’s a full-body, compound movement and teaches you a great movement pattern of the hip hinge while building great strength in the hamstrings, glutes, core, and lats.

Most memorable PR: In the gym: six weighted chin-ups with 10 kilos. Outside of the gym (water skiing): 5.5 bouys at 34 miles per hour on the slalom course.

Top 5 songs on your training playlist:

Crave You – Flight Facilities

Sweet Disposition – Temper Trap

Livin’ on the Edge — Aerosmith

Perfect Form – Cyril Hahn

Up and Down – Kattison

Top 3 things you must have at the gym or in your gym bag:

Headphones, phone, and water.

Do you prefer to train alone or with others? Why? Both. I like training alone, but I get more motivated when I train with others. I enjoy mixing up my usual routine.

Most embarrassing gym moment: Almost falling off the treadmill because the endorphins and song I was listening to got me feeling so high that I closed my eyes momentarily and lost my balance.

Most memorable compliment you’ve received lately: Someone called me “superwoman” because I’m six months pregnant and still super active and hosting a large family gathering at the last minute while making it look easy (It wasn’t. My feet were throbbing and most of the dishes were overcooked!)

Most recent compliment you gave someone else: “You’re the best!” to my dog Tyson. That doesn’t count? OK, I told my sister that she is brilliant in times of crisis, and she has held our family together during a traumatic event.

Favorite meal: Fish (like seabass) and greens. Boring, I know, but I eat it every day and don’t get bored. I was gutted when I had such a strong aversion to it during my first trimester of pregnancy.

Favorite way to treat yourself: Pregnancy massages are my favorite way to relax these days.

Favorite quote: “Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence.” from Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

Favorite book: The Prophet by Khalil Gibran

What inspires and motivates you? People who are challenged physically and achieve more than most, such as Bethany Hamilton (a champion surfer who lost her arm to a shark and became a world champion surfer anyway). Overcoming that kind of adversity rather than letting fate deal you a cruel card is ridiculously inspiring and always makes get it together if I start to feel sorry for myself.

What do you do? I am a pre- and postnatal fitness coach, and a corporate ethics consultant. And

What else do you do? I am crazy about slalom water skiing. It’s the feeling of being on the water, the sunshine, spending the day hanging out at the lake with friends, the exhilaration, and adrenaline of the sport, competing against myself, trying to control the inner monkey who keeps trying to sabotage my best passes by telling me not to mess it up. Plus, I just think it’s the coolest sport in the world, and because it’s not that big or popular you can actually get quite close to the champions who inspire you!

Describe a typical day: I wake up at 6:30 and go to the gym. Then I take Tyson (our mini schnauzer) for a walk in the communal garden, where he plays with all the other dogs. Just watching him being so playful makes me feel happy, so it’s such a great way to start the day.

I pick up some coffee for Priyan (my husband) and me from Coffee Plant (best coffee on the famous Portobello Road in Notting Hill!) and go home to make us breakfast at around 9 a.m., before I wash and settle down for work and household chores, etc.

The rest of the day seems to slip by until it��s time for dinner at around 7 p.m. after Priyan has taken Tyson out for his second walk. Then we relax and watch some TV. Usually, Priyan is watching football, and I’ll be looking at social media our reading unless there’s a new season of House of Cards or Game of Thrones to watch!

Your next training goal: Being six months pregnant, my current training goal is learning and practicing body positivity — regardless of how many kilos I am gaining — and training for function rather than performance. But I’m dying to get super fit again next year and prepare for “Women’s Week” in Orlando, in September 2018 with the female world champion water-skier, Whitney McClintock. I want to smash my personal best on the slalom course and start shortening rope lengths.

For what are you most grateful? Good health for me, family, and friends.

Of what life accomplishment do you feel most proud? There was a time in my life when I was down in the dumps after suddenly losing my dad to cancer, and I was low on self-esteem, drinking too much, and not being good to myself. I decided I needed to get out of the rut and in the space of a few months turned my whole outlook on life around through exercise, holistic therapies, and nutrition. It helped me become happy, confident, and relaxed.

Which three words best describe you? My best friend and husband are hanging out next to me while I’m answering this, so I asked them to answer for me. They said “fun, loyal, and adventurous.”

What’s a risk you’ve taken recently, and how did it turn out? Having the courage to walk away from a well-compensated legal career at a company where I worked for 10 years to pursue my dreams of being a strength and conditioning coach.

How has lifting weights changed your life? Lifting weights has helped me make the shift from training solely for aesthetics and burning calories to training for function and performance, which is a far more consistent, satisfying, and empowering goal for me.

What’s the coolest “side effect” you’ve experienced from strength training? Feeling fearless and bad-ass!

What do you want to say to other women who might be nervous or hesitant about strength training? There’s absolutely nothing to lose by asking one of the trainers in the gym to show you how to perform a lift with proper form. If they’re not busy training clients, they will gladly help you out, that’s our job! It could transform the way you train. If you’ve never tried it before, you’ll love how much you will improve and get stronger and see your body (and your mind) transform quite quickly! Proper form is key, and there are always ways to improve. It’s 100 percent worth asking a trainer or investing in a few training sessions to learn the ropes.

To learn more about Jen, check out her website and connect with her on Facebook and Instagram!

The post GGS Spotlight: Jen De Mel appeared first on Girls Gone Strong.

from Blogger http://corneliussteinbeck.blogspot.com/2017/08/ggs-spotlight-jen-de-mel.html

0 notes

voyagerafod · 8 years

Text

Star Trek Voyager: A Fire of Devotion: Part 2 of 4: Louder Than Bells: Prologue & Chapter One

Prologue

Seven of Nine watched from the corner of the mess hall as the Voyager crew was throwing yet another party. It had only been about five months since the joint party thrown for her and Harry Kim, and since then there are had been several birthdays, a Bajoran religious ceremony, and now a celebration for Voyager itself, having by way of a spatial vortex just shaved another two years off its journey back to the Alpha Quadrant.

“So, why aren’t you enjoying yourself, Annie?” Samantha Wildman said, standing next to Seven with an arm around her waist. Seven took a sip from her glass of replicated champagne before answering. “In the past year, Voyager has had years taken off it’s estimated return time on no less than four occasions. Once by Kes, once by a new course plotted with the aid of my Borg star charts in astrometrics, then there was the slipstream drive technology we took from the Dauntless before it turned out to be a trap, and now this. When it happens often enough to no longer qualify as a ‘special occasion,’ I don’t see the point in throwing a party for every single instance. Had we gained twenty years as opposed to two, then this party would make more sense to me.” “Well, I think there’s a bit more to it than that,” Sam said. “We not only shaved more time off our journey home, we got out of dark space much sooner, which is good because most of the crew was going pants on head nanners over the lack of, well, anything visible.” “Pants on head?” Seven muttered, confused by the metaphor.

“And add to that the fact that we helped save an innocent race from the slow motion genocide they were facing because of those Malon traders that were dumping radioactive waste in their territory.”

“However,” Seven said, “much like the shortening of the journey to the Alpha Quadrant, this is not the first time that Voyager has stepped in to save people who were being harmed by malicious outside forces.” Sam sighed. “Okay, you got me there,” she said, putting a hand on Seven’s back.

“Perhaps it’s something I would understand more if I were fully human,” Seven said. “As it stands right now, though, this seems like an even more meaningless symbolic gesture-” Seven’s monologue was cut off when some music began playing. Seven felt ambivalent towards it; it was not offensive to her ears, but she didn’t derive any pleasure from it either. Suddenly, Samantha took Seven’s drink from her and put both their glasses down on a nearby table. Samantha, smiling, extended her hands to Seven of Nine. “Shut up and dance with me,” Samantha said. Odd, Seven thought. Suddenly the music seems more pleasing.

“I am afraid I do not know how,” Seven said. “It’s slow dancing Annie,” Samantha said. “it’s kinda hard to screw up. Just follow my lead and we’ll be fine. It’s not like we’ll do doing the tango.” “I do not know what the tango is, but perhaps you’ll teach me that later.” “We’ll see.”

Chapter One

While Seven of Nine was finishing her preparations for a mission to survey a proto-nebula she’d be taking with Tom, B’Elanna, and the Doctor, Samantha walked into cargo bay 2. “Hey, Annie,” she said. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?” “No. I am almost finished,” Seven said. “Are you sure you don’t wish to come with us?”

“I appreciate the offer,” Sam replied. “But one, nebulas are not really my thing, I’m a biologist not an astronomer. And two, those class-2 shuttles aren’t really well suited to seating five comfortably.” “I’ve actually had some thoughts about that,” Seven said. “Though I’d rather not go into details until I’ve had a chance to discuss it with Mister Paris since he has more practical experience with small craft than I do.” “Why honey,” Sam said, smiling. “Is that humbleness I hear coming from you?”

“I have been perfectly willing to admit my shortcomings in the past,” Seven said, shaking her head. “Yet somehow each time it is treated as though it is unusual. While I have extensive knowledge about the operation of small spacecraft in my memory, as a drone I was never required to use it. Lieutenant Paris not only has years of training and practice, he has also demonstrated an innate talent for it. Not seeking his insight would-” Seven was cut off by the sound of her comm badge chirping. “Doctor to Seven of Nine, we’re waiting for you in the shuttle bay.” “I was unaware I was late Doctor,” Seven said. “You aren’t actually. Apparently, the departure time was moved up by ten minutes, which I was only informed of five minutes ago. You can blame Mister Paris for that.” Samantha could hear a quiet, “I said I was sorry!” come over the badge and assumed that it was Tom. She quickly covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Regardless,” the Doctor continued. “If you are ready, please report to the shuttle as soon as possible.” “On my way,” Seven said, tapping her badge to end the conversation. “Well, see you when I get back.”

“Just so you know,” Samantha said. “Naomi insists on helping me prepare dinner tonight, so if my quarters seem messier than usual when you get back you’ll know why.” Seven smiled and gave Samantha a quick hug as she headed out. “To borrow a phrase from Lieutenant Kim,” she said before the cargo bay door closed behind her, “Don’t burn down the ship while I’m away.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Samantha said in mock disappointment.

---

Lieutenant Harry Kim stood at his station on the bridge, feeling good about the day. It had now been approximately six months since his last Year of Hell flashback, and the Doctor had finally agreed to reduce the dosage on his PTSD medication. That good feeling went away when he heard the beep and looked down. “We’re receiving a distress call from the away team,” he said. “They’ve been caught in the gravimetric shear of a plasma surge.”

“Bridge to Transport Room 1, prepare for emergency beam out,” Captain Janeway said.

“On it,” Ensign Todd Mulcahey’s voice replied. “I’ve got a partial lock on them, but unless their shuttle clears the nebula…” “It won’t,” Harry said. “They’ve lost propulsion.”

“Then it’s going to be a rough transport,” Mulcahey said, “Resetting pattern buffers…” “Harry, get down there and help-” “Got them, Captain,” Mulcahey said. “Their signals are clearing.” “Good work Ensign,” Janeway said. “I’m on my way down there now.”

-o-

When Seven of Nine came out of transport she looked around. She couldn’t quite place it, but she’d felt something odd during transport. She couldn’t come up with the proper word to describe it, but was certain that she had never felt it before. Everyone else who had been on the shuttle seemed fine, though, both Tom and B’Elanna smiling in relief as they stepped off the platform. “Well, that was certainly exciting,” the Doctor said.

“As potentially fatal occurrences go,” Seven said, “that one was relatively mundane.” “Only on a Starfleet ship could a sentence like that be uttered,” Tom said. “Well I-” The Doctor’s form flickered suddenly. A look of panic crossed his holographic face. “My emitter has been damaged!”

“I’ll transfer your program to sickbay,” B’Elanna said, moving quickly to the main console in the transport room. While she tapped away at the console, the Doctor vanished, and his mobile emitter fell to the ground. Seven was close enough to pick it up right away. “Did you get him transferred in time?” Tom asked. “Doctor to transport room 1, report,” a voice chimed over the comm.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” B’Elanna said, walking over to where Seven stood to take a look at the emitter. “Doctor, it looks like some of your emitter circuits were fused during transport. I can probably repair it but I’ll want to run a diagnostic on it first. I’ll keep you posted.” “Please, do whatever it takes,” the Doctor’s voice said, sounding concerned. “Trust me, Doc,” B’Elanna said, a confident grin on her face. “Mulcahey? I’ll need to borrow you for a bit. meet me in the science lab.” “Yes ma’am,” the Ensign said, following B’Elanna as she left.

Tom looked at Seven and shrugged. “Well, that trip was a lot shorter than I’d hoped for,” he said.

“Since you’re here Lieutenant Paris,” Seven said. “I have a matter I was hoping to discuss with you during the mission.” “Right, I remember you making a comment about making improvements to our shuttles. I’ve had a few ideas of my own about that.”

---

Samantha was awoken suddenly when Seven of Nine sat up abruptly, breathing heavy like she’d just been snapped out of a particularly bad nightmare. “Baby?” Samantha said, groggy, “What’s wrong?” “I need to get to the bridge,” Seven said. Samantha frowned. “Annie, did you have a nightmare?” “I certainly hope so,” Seven said as she slid out of bed, grabbing her uniform jacket off the back of one of the chairs around the dinner table, still not entirely clean from last night, and headed out the door, only partially zipping it up. Worried, Samantha tossed the sheets and grabbed the first clothes she could grab to put on, a civilian outfit she didn’t particular care for in terms of how it looked but kept for its comfort on days when she was off duty and had no intention of leaving her quarters. Any concern about her crewmates mocking the outfit were pushed aside and she jogged to try and catch up to her seemingly panic-driven Borg girlfriend before she could get to the bridge.

“Wait, Annie, hold up,” Sam said, just managing to get in the turbolift with Seven of Nine before the door closed. “Tell me what’s going on.” Seven sighed. “I apologize for alarming you Sam,” she said. “With any luck, I am in error, though if that is the case I will need to speak to the Doctor about making repairs to my cranial implant.” “Why?”

“My proximity transceiver has been activated. It could indicate Borg presence nearby.”

Samantha’s eyes went wide. “So, Bridge?” she said. “Bridge,” Seven replied, the turbolift moving as it accepted what Seven has said as a command.

“Are you sure?” Samantha said. “No,” Seven said. “This may well prove to be a false alarm, but I cannot risk the safety of this ship on that possibility.” “Agreed,” Samantha said. Just before the lift reached its destination, Samantha glanced down at the civilian outfit she was wearing. “If any of the bridge crew see this get up I will never hear the end of it,” she muttered. Seven looked Samantha up and down. “Perhaps,” she said. “The color scheme does not compliment your features.” Samantha smirked. “If anybody other than you said that, I’d be insulted,” she said right before the turbolift doors opened. “I’ll just go back to my quarters if that’s alright with you,” she whispered to Seven, who nodded before stepping out onto the bridge.

---

“Commander,” Seven said to Chakotay shortly after exiting the turbolift. “Seven, good morning,” he said, only briefly looking in her direction as he handed a PADD to Harry Kim. “That remains to be seen,” she said, repeating in more specific detail what she had told Sam. “Are you sure?” Harry said. “We’ve been running sensors sweeps non-stop all night, gathering data on the proto-nebula. We haven’t detected any Borg signatures at all.” “Perhaps the nebula could mask a ship’s signal?” she said, feeling conflicting emotions as she said so. She didn’t like being wrong on principle, but this instance she very badly wanted to be.

“Even a Borg cube couldn’t last ten seconds in there,” Harry said, looking at the nebula on Voyager’s viewscreen. “Maybe it’s a false alarm,” Chakotay said. “A malfunction in your transceiver maybe?”

“Possibly,” Seven said. “I will go and speak to the Doctor.” Chakotay nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out,” Harry said. “Just in case.” Seven nodded. “Thank you,” she said, heading for the turbolift once again. The feeling of actually wanting to be mistaken was a new one to her, and she wasn’t quite ready to accept it, but she did feel less afraid. For Sam and Naomi’s sake, she thought, this had better be a malfunction.

As soon as she got to sickbay, and relayed her concerns to the Doctor, he immediately took out a medical tricorder and began scanning. He was only seconds in when she flinched suddenly. “Seven?” the Doctor said. “I felt it again,” she replied. “Stronger this time.”

“I don’t know what could be causing it if there aren’t actually any Borg nearby. I wonder if-” Whatever the Doctor was going to say next was lost when the ship went to red alert. “Dammit,” she said. “The one time I wanted to be wrong.” “Chakotay to Seven of Nine. Looks like you were right, we’ve detected a Borg force field in the science lab on deck 8.” “How many drones?” she asked. “Unknown. Tuvok is taking a security team there now.” “I will meet him there,” Seven said, heading for the exit to sickbay.

“Seven,” the Doctor said, sounding worried. “My mobile emitter is in that lab.” “Doctor this is not the time to-”

“This isn’t about my freedom Seven. It’s about the 29th century technology that the Borg may have already assimilated.” Seven groaned. Every curse word she’d heard since she came on board last year fought in her mind to be the one she said in response to the prospect. “No,” she said. “I won’t let them do that. I will not let them take this ship. I will not let them have Sam or Naomi.” With that, she headed out, taking a hand phaser with her as she did so. When she got to the lab, Tuvok, Lieutenant Ayala, and two others whom she recognized by face but not by name were at the lab’s partially open door, two on each side. An all too familiar green glow emanated from the lab. Tuvok saw her approach and nodded. She nodded back, and Tuvok and Ayala pulled the door the rest of the way open, the other two guards going in, phaser rifles raised. Seven went in right behind them, Tuvok and Ayala behind her. “He’s alive,” one of the guards in front of her said, looking down at an injured but surprisingly unassimilated Ensign Mulcahey, but Seven’s focus quickly shifted to the object at the center of the room. It looked like a Borg maturation chamber, the kind she had been put in when she was first assimilated as a child, the way all those who were taken before their physical maturity were before being fitted for implants. Like, she thought. But not quite. I’ve never seen one that looked like this before.

“This resembles a Borg maturation chamber,” she said to Tuvok. “But there are components which are unfamiliar.” “Sir,” Ayala said, holding a tricorder over Mulcahey. “There’s puncture wounds from Borg nanoprobe tubes, and the signature on the probes match Seven of Nine’s, but she was in sickbay.” Seven went over to both of them. She took the tricorder from Ayala. “He is correct,” she said, sounding confused. She looked at Ayala, then Tuvok, as if hoping either of them might have an explanation. The latter only raised an eyebrow, the former shrugged. “I don’t know how this happened. None of this makes sense. A tissue sample appears to have been extracted. There’s no sign of nanoprobes in the Ensign except around the wound. You should get him to sickbay though, he does appear to have a concussion.” Tuvok motioned for Ayala and one of the other guards to do just that. Seven handed Ayala back his tricorder, and went back to look at the maturation chamber. She took a deep breath and stepped up to where the sensors said the force field was. She took one step forward and passed through it. “What are you doing?” Tuvok asked. “It recognized me as Borg,” she said, tapping button on the side of the chamber. “There’s a control here to open a panel on the side. We’ll be able to see what’s in…” Her train of thought was disrupted when she saw something she did not expect to see. A Borg drone, in a fetal state. “That shouldn’t be possible,” she said. “The Borg expand their numbers by assimilation, not procreation.“

---

Captain Janeway looked at the “baby” through the transparent panel on the side of its maturation chamber. Once Seven of Nine and Tuvok briefed her on what they knew, she had only one thought.

I haven’t even had my coffee yet. “So, just so I’m sure I understand you correctly,” she said, “you’re saying that when we beamed you off the shuttle yesterday, some of your nanoprobes got mixed up with the Doctor’s mobile emitter?”

“Correct,” Seven said. “And Ensign Mulcahey DNA was used as a template to create this, baby drone?” “A simplification of what occurred, but accurate,” Seven said. “We have erected a Level 10 force field around the chamber,” Tuvok said. “As you can see, the drone’s mass has increased since you arrived in the lab. Seven says that it is maturing at a rate twenty-five times the normal rate for a Borg.” “Good. The force field I mean. Post twenty-four hour security around the lab.” “Very well Captain,” Tuvok said. “Captain,” Seven said. “You intend to let it mature?”

Janeway nodded. “That’s correct. Right now, it’s not a direct threat to the ship, and it didn’t assimilate Mulcahey. We’re dealing with something new here. If it becomes a threat we can beam the whole chamber out into space, but I don’t want to do that unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Seven didn’t respond right away. Janeway gathered that Seven was concerned about the ship’s safety, which was good, but she hoped that Seven wouldn’t act rashly. “I,” Seven finally said. “have concerns.” “As do I,” Tuvok said to Seven. “However the final decision is the Captain’s.” “Understood, but I wanted my concerns noted for the record.” “They are Seven,” Janeway said. “don’t worry. I want you and B’Elanna to go to astrometrics. Modify the sensors so you can scan the drone from there.” “Yes, Captain,” Seven said, still sounding apprehensive but not pushing the issue. ---

Seven of Nine went over the data twice to be sure, before showing it to B’Elanna.

“Damn, this thing is growing quickly,” B’Elanna said. “It was a fetus when we started this, now it’s about the size of a six-year-old.” “A six-year-old boy,” the Doctor’s voice said, speaking to them from a monitor since he was still unable to leave sickbay. “From what I can tell the drone is male. Probably due to the source material. According to my own scans Borg implants compose approximately twenty-seven percent of his body, but he’s mostly human.” “A human with polydutonic alloy plating,” B’Elanna said. “The same material as your holo-emitter. The nanoprobes must’ve extrapolated that technology for its design.”

“Definitely,” Seven said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Even as a single drone, this unit could easily threaten the ship with such an advanced level of technology; five hundred years ahead of what the collective had now. “I have already dampened its proximity transceiver to prevent it from contacting the Borg Collective.” “I’ve located my mobile emitter,” the Doctor said, sounding less than pleased much to Seven’s surprise. “Embedded in his cerebral cortex. I don’t think we can remove it without killing him.” “That may become necessary,” Seven said. “Continue with the scans, the Captain wants a full report on the drone’s capabilities.” “Already almost done, unless it invents something new while I’m recording the data,” B’Elanna said. “You know, if we can keep it from contacting the collective, we might be able to convince it to stay with us, the way you did. Imagine what we could do with 29th century Borg technology on our side.” “That decision rests with the Captain,” Seven said. “However I personally would advise against that.” “You’re probably right,” B’Elanna said. “but I’d rather not throw away a potential source of new technology unless I had to. I mean, look at this.” Seven stepped away from the console she was working on to look at what was on B’Elanna’s monitor. The list of abilities the ship's chief engineer had managed to identify in the new drone was impressive, to put it mildly.

“Internal transport nodes. Fascinating,” Seven said. “I must get this to the Captain immediately. The drone will fully mature in only a few hours, but its shielding is not yet active. She needs to make a decision while destroying it would still be an easy option.” “Hmm. I wonder if I should tell Mister Mulchaey he’s a father,” the Doctor said in a joking tone of voice.

“I doubt he would treat the matter so lightly Doctor,” Seven said as she took the PADD B’Elanna offered her before leaving astrometrics.

---

Captain Janeway put down the PADD Seven of Nine had handed her, and asked a question she’d actually been thinking about since earlier that day. “Seven, what normally happens when a Borg exits a maturation chamber?” she said. “It awaits instructions from the collective,” Seven said. “So without those instructions, it has no designation. No purpose.”

“Captain, are you suggesting we-” “Exactly. If we can keep him from interfacing with the collective, we can give him a purpose.” “Captain, this is the most advanced drone to ever exist. It could easily threaten Voyager, even without the Collective.” “I understand your concern, Seven, and I am not taking destroying the drone off the table entirely. But if we can teach it our values, we will have a powerful ally on our side.” “If we fail,” Seven said, “No, let me rephrase. If we succeed at convincing the drone to become part of this crew, but the Borg are able to take us and assimilate it anyway, the Collective will become more powerful than ever. I am uncomfortable with taking that risk.” “Noted. But I would remind you, Seven, that there were some on this crew who made the same suggestion about you.” “This situation is different,” Seven said, a hint of anger in her voice. “Is it?”

“There are similarities yes, but I would remind you that I am not enhanced by technology five hundred years ahead of our time, and my parents conceived me naturally rather than having their DNA stolen by rogue nanoprobes.” “Okay,” Janeway conceded. “Fair enough on that point. It would seem we are at an impasse here.” “You could just order me to work with the drone,” Seven said. “True, true. But much like destroying the drone I’d rather save that as a last resort.” After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Seven of Nine said something that Janeway did not expect. “Have you consulted Ensign Mulcahey on this matter, Captain?” “No. Why?” “Since it was his DNA that was used as the template for the drone that would, in effect, make him the father. Shouldn’t he have a say in the matter?” “Nice try,” Janeway said, smirking. “But what started this was your nanoprobes, and the Doctor’s holo-emitter. If anyone could be said to be that drone’s parents, it’s you two, not Mulcahey.” “There are multiple species in this galaxy who procreate with three parents rather than two,” Seven said. Janeway sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll play along with this but only because I’m tired of arguing with you.” Janeway touched a button on her desk. “Commander, has Ensign Mulcahey been cleared to leave sickbay yet?” “Yes Captain,” Chakotay said. “He was released a few hours ago. Why?” “Have him meet me back in sickbay. I have something to discuss with him, the Doctor, and you. In private.” “Understood,” Seven said.

---

Seven of Nine was not thrilled with the situation at hand, but having her lover at her side lessened the discomfort. Despite her best efforts, she ultimately lost her argument. She made her case as best she could that the drone should simply be destroyed, but at the end, she found herself simply outvoted. The Captain putting it up to a vote had not been expected, but when it was suggested, Seven assumed that at worst it would end in a tie, with her and the Doctor on the side of destroying the drone so that the mobile emitter could possibly be recovered. More likely as she saw it, the Captain would be the lone vote for not destroying it. Seven had assumed that Ensign Mulcahey would carry some resentment over having his genetic material taken against his will.

“Yeah, okay,” he’d said instead after the Captain told him her plans. “What?” Seven had said, in the same tone of voice that Samantha would say the same word when Seven informed her of what was going to happen. And now, here she was, in the science lab. Tuvok and three armed guards behind her, Sam holding her hand, and a drone in front of her. “Like ripping off a bandage,” Seven said, repeating a phrase she’d learned from Sam last year. She went over to a console. “Maturation cycle is complete.” The drone stepped out of its alcove. “We are Borg. State this unit’s designation,” he said. “You do not have a designation,” Seven said. “You are not part of the collective, you are an individual. You will receive your instructions from me.” So far the drone had not made any threatening gestures. He stood perfectly still, his arms at his sides. Seven thought for a moment that perhaps this task would succeed after all, and that the Captain had in fact made the right decision. “Insufficient,” the drone said. Or maybe I’m right and this is a terrible idea, Seven thought.

“You will comply,” Seven said. “My designation is Seven of Nine.” “Seven of Nine,” the drone repeated. “What is this unit’s designation?” “He wants a name,” Samantha whispered in Seven’s ear. “Maybe you should give him one.” Seven looked at Samantha, and nodded. She turned back to face the drone. “You are an individual. You may choose a designation for yourself,” she said. It wasn’t what Samantha had suggested, but she didn’t want to admit that she simply did not feel comfortable with the idea of naming a new lifeform. “Insufficient. Seven of Nine, state our designation.”

Seven sighed, then turned to Tuvok. “He does not understand me. His responses are programmed. I must initiate a direct neural interface.” “Are you sure that’s wise?” Tuvok said. “Yeah, I’m wondering that myself,” Samantha said.

“There is no other way for me to communicate with him,” Seven said. “Sam, I would prefer you remain outside, in case something goes wrong.” “But-” “I will not be responsible for robbing Naomi of her mother,” Seven said. “Please,” she added in a softer tone. Samantha frowned, but then did as she was asked, moving outside of the lab, and behind one of the security officers.

Seven moved towards the drone, and extended her arm. The drone reflexively stepped back, surprising Seven. “You will not be harmed,” she said. “You will be provided with instructions.” The drone stepped forward again, close enough for Seven to extend her arm, and extend her assimilation tubules, though not for the purpose which they’d originally been designed for. After a few moments, Seven glanced at Tuvok.

“He understands,” she told him, but suddenly the drone grabbed her arm. She grunted in pain from the grip. “The drone is probing my neural pathways,” she said, wincing. “It is trying to assimilate all of my knowledge.” “Annie?” she heard Sam call from behind her, but the sounds she heard after suggested that the guards were holding her back from entering. Tuvok was at her side now, a hand phaser pointed at the drone. “Stop it,” she told the drone. Tuvok fired, but a force field surrounded the drone immediately. “Terminate... interface!” she grunted. The drone just stared blankly ahead, as if he didn’t even hear her. “You are hurting me,” Seven said. The drone looked at her, and without changing his facial expression even slightly, stopped probing Seven’s mind. Seven retracted her tubules and stepped back. “I will comply,” the drone said.

Seven, after taking a few calming breaths, finally spoke. “We’ll need to try something else. Perhaps Borg data nodes will work. I’ve already activated its linguistic database, so communicating will be easier.”

---

Samantha and Neelix walked down the corridor towards engineering, each carrying a Borg data node with them. “It wasn’t necessary to help me, Samantha,” Neelix said. Samantha smiled. “I’m happy to help. Besides, ferreting all this stuff back and forth is going to be the only chance I’ll get to spend time with Seven today since the Captain has her so busy with the new drone.” “As good an excuse as any,” Neelix said. “Still haven’t named him yet?” “Seven insists he should pick his own,” Samantha said as they reached the door to engineering. “I’d try to talk her into it but I usually know when I can’t get her to budge on something.” As they stepped inside, Neelix spoke up to grab B’Elanna’s attention. “Special delivery! Two Borg data nodes.” “More,” B’Elanna said, sounding exasperated. “Well, you know the drill,” she said, waving towards the data port. “Having a bad day, B’Elanna?” Samantha asked. “I’m just wondering how many more Borg hitchhikers we’re going to pick up along the way. They’ve suddenly turned from a force of nature threatening the galaxy into annoying in-laws.” “I don’t think it happening twice counts as a pattern,” Neelix said as he hooked up the first node. B’Elanna scoffed. “Or maybe it’s the collective’s new strategy. They don’t assimilate anymore, they just show up and look helpless.” “Well, if it keeps them from killing people would that be so bad if they did?” Neelix said. “Look,” B’Elanna said, “we don’t know what this drone will turn into! I don’t think I’m being paranoid here, it’s gone from infant to adult in one day.” “It’ll be what we help it to be,” Samantha said. “Exactly,” Neelix added. B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “How Starfleet of both of you. I don’t even know why I brought it up. I just hope your girlfriend does a good job, Sam. We’ll all pay if she blows it.” “I’ll pass on your vote of confidence,” Samantha said dryly. And I thought Annika and B’Elanna were finally getting along, she thought.

B’Elanna just shook her head and went back to work, while Samantha hooked up the Borg data node she was carrying to another datalink. Once both nodes were filled, she and Neelix headed back to the lab. “Is it just me,” Neelix said as they left engineering, “or is B’Elanna more agitated than usual lately? I mean, wasn’t she saying we should try and keep the drone just yesterday?” “She’s been a little off for awhile really,” Samantha said. “I think she’s still upset about what happened to her Maquis friends back home. Can’t say I blame her to be honest.” “Did you lose anyone to the Dominion?” Neelix asked. “Not that I know of, but it’s also been months since we’ve been able to contact Starfleet.” “True. In fact, sometimes I think people on Voyager actually forget there’s a war going on back home. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, though.” “Who’s to say it can’t be both,” Samantha said. She and Neelix were quiet the remainder of the way to the lab. When they stepped inside, Seven turned and smiled when she saw Samantha enter. She stepped past Neelix to take the data node that Samantha was holding. “How goes the upload?” Samantha said. “It is going well,” Seven said. “The drone is assimilating the knowledge most efficiently.”

“And he hasn’t tried grabbing you again?” Samantha said.

“He has not.” “Good. I might have to hurt him if he did.” “Please do not take offense, but I believe you lack the combat expertise necessary to present a threat to… You were joking weren’t you?” Samantha nodded. “You’re busy today, don’t worry about it.” “Very well then,” Seven said as she plugged the first node in while Neelix set the one he was carrying down on nearby table. The drone stepped off his platform. Samantha found it rather amusing how his head seemed to bobble slightly as he walked.

“We are Borg. State this unit’s designation.” “We have compiled information into this data node for you to assimilate,” Seven said, ignoring the request.

“We do not understand,” the drone said. “You will,” Seven replied. “But first you must assimilate this data.” Samantha found herself amused again, this time by Seven, who told the drone that he must assimilate data the way that she used to have to tell Naomi to brush her teeth. “Give me your arm,” Seven said the to the drone. He did not move. Seven sighed and looked at Samantha. “Was Naomi ever this difficult?” she said. “She had a rough patch,” Samantha said. “but it only lasted a few months. Don’t tell her I told you, though, she’s very sensitive about it.”

Seven nodded, then took the drone’s arm herself and held it over the data node. “Inject one of your assimilation tubules into this access port,” she said. “We do not understand,” the drone said. “If you don’t mind,” Samantha said as she moved to stand closer to Seven. “might I suggest you demonstrate what it is you want him to do? You have tubules of your own after all.” Seven nodded. “An excellent suggestion Sam, thank you.” Seven then did just that, briefly extended her own tubules into the data port, before quickly removing them. “Now, you do the same, but use yours to assimilate the data in the node,” she said to the drone. It did so, and Samantha watched as the drone’s face changed, his mouth open partially, his human eye opening wider. His face bore a similar kind of awe and wonder to it that Naomi had had the first time she’d been shown what the warp core looked like.

“Your designation is Seven of Nine. Borg,” the drone said after removing his tubules. “Yes,” Seven said. The drone turned to face Neelix. “Your designation is Neelix. Talaxian.” “That’s me,” Neelix said. “Your designation,” the drone said, now looking at Samantha, “is Samantha Wildman, Human.”

“Correct,” Samantha said. She smiled as she put an arm around Seven’s shoulder. “Well done, Annie. The data nodes were a great idea. With the added bonus of preventing any injury.” “Annie? Does Seven of Nine have an alternate designation?” “It is,” Seven said, pausing briefly before continuing, “a designation that only Samantha is allowed to call me. You are to continue referring to me as Seven of Nine, or as just Seven.”

The drone started looking around the room, turning in place. “I am in a laboratory, on a vessel, traveling through interstellar space,” he said. “Yes. You’re on the Federation starship Voyager,” Neelix said. He almost seems excited, Samantha thought. It’s kind of child-like. “Why?” the drone asked. Okay, very child like. “This is a vessel of exploration,” Seven said. “I am an explorer,” the drone said. “We all are,” Samantha said. “We are Borg,” the drone said. Swing and a miss.

“You are a unique individual, one of many on Voyager,” Seven said. “This is not a Borg collective. Do you understand?” “Individual. Yes,” the drone said, practically smiling. “I wish to assimilate more information,” he added, extending his arm towards Seven. “Not yet,” Seven said. “First, you must meet with the ship’s Doctor for a medical examination. You will come with me. Sam, will you be joining us?” “That’s okay, I’d just be in the way. I’ll see you later,” Samantha said. “I may have to pass on dinner tonight. Send Naomi my regrets,” Seven said. “After we have gone to sickbay, I will upgrading one of the alcoves in the cargo bay to allow him to regenerate.” “Okay,” Samantha said, giving Seven a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. “Welcome to Voyager,” she said to the drone as she left.

---

As they walked down the corridor, two guards following them, Seven of Nine listened politely as one by one the drone began vocally naming off the various components of Voyager. “Seven of Nine,” the drone said. “Before we left the laboratory, the one designated Samantha, she touched you with her lips. I do not understand.” “It is called a kiss,” Seven said. “She kissed me before we parted way for the day because she is my romantic partner.” “I see. Is this why your pheromonal levels went up and your body temperature increased when she touched you?” “That is correct, though for future reference it is considered, impolite, to discuss such matters in a public setting.” Seven glanced back at the security guards. To their credit, both were acting professional. She imagined that if any other crew members had been there, there would’ve been giggling. Or worse, were it someone with only casual regard for decorum such Brooks or Chell.

“Impolite,” the drone said. “To be not polite or courteous. Rude.” “Also correct.” “Will I be given a romantic partner as well?” That time one of the guards failed to fully suppress a reaction, but Seven glared at him and he remained quiet. “That is not how romantic entanglement works. I will discuss the admittedly complex history of my own relationship with Sam, if she gives me permission to do so, and only in private as the rest of the crew is not privy to such details. Privacy is another concept you will need to learn if you are to integrate into this crew. I should warn you though that maintaining it on this vessel can be difficult at times.” “I am noticing that many of the other crewmembers we pass are afraid of me. I can detect their physiological responses.” “Their fear is understandable,” Seven said. “We come from a species that is hostile to them. My position in this crew was earned, and it took a considerable amount of time. Though I admit to having made... mistakes along the way that prolonged the matter. However, as you have not directly assaulted any crewmembers since your creation, you will likely have an easier process.” “I see,” the drone said, sounding sad, which was a surprise to Seven. “I want to know more about the collective. Tell me about the Borg.” That was not a surprise to Seven. She knew this was going to come sooner or later. “The Captain and I will determine when you are ready for that information,” she said. “You must not be impatient. There are other things for you to learn in the meantime, as well as adapting to life on Voyager.” Seven stopped walking when she saw the door to sickbay. She motioned for the drone to enter ahead of her. “Good morning,” the Doctor said. “You are the emergency medical hologram,” the drone said. “Very observant,” the Doctor said. “Have you been given a name yet?” “I do not have a name. Seven of Nine says I should choose my own, but according to the data I have assimilated so far, it is customary for humans to name their children. As my DNA is human, would it not be appropriate for my progenitors to give me my designation?” “He has a point, Seven,” the Doctor said. “Very well,” Seven said. “You name him then.” “Why me?” “Your mobile emitter merging with my nanoprobes in the transporter beam is responsible for the drone’s existence.” “Wouldn’t that make both of us his parents then? And what about Mulcahey? Shouldn’t he get a say too since it was his DNA-” “I have already discussed the matter with him,” Seven said. “He expressed no interest.” “Well that just seems rude,” the Doctor said, as he opened his medical tricorder. Facing the drone he continued. “This is a non-invasive biomedical scan. You will not feel a thing. “And another thing Seven,” he added as he started his scans. “I’ve been active for going on five years and I’ve yet to pick my own name.” “A fair point. Though in all honesty I’ve wondered why you simply do not adopt the surname of your creator.” “Doctor Zimmerman? I’ve considered it.” “Doctor,” the drone said once the initial scan was done. “I am confused about my creation. From what I heard you and Seven of Nine say, I am an accident.” “Well,” the Doctor said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Yes, but these things happen.” “It was a random technological convergence,” Seven said. “But that is irrelevant.”

“Am I unwelcome here?” the drone said. “Unexpected,” the Doctor said. “That doesn’t have to mean unwelcome. If you are successful in integrating with the crew, you will find yourself most welcome.” The Doctor began performing new scans, when suddenly he stopped. “Edwin,” he said. “I’m sorry?” Seven said, wondering where this seemingly random outburst came from. “Edwin is Ensign Mulcahey’s middle name. I was thinking that’s what we could call you. It’s not uncommon for human parents to name their children in such a fashion.” the Doctor said to the drone. The drone did not give any visible sign that he heard the Doctor, but after a few seconds began speaking. “Edwin. Origin; Earth. Means ‘rich friend’ from the Old English elements ead meaning wealth or fortune, and wine meaning friend. This does seem not an appropriate name given my origins.” “Good lord Seven, just how much data did you give him?” “I did give him the ship’s linguistic database,” Seven said. “I did not realize he had processed that much of it already. But if the drone does not wish to be named Edwin, I suggest we not pressure him.” “Edwin is acceptable as a designation,” the drone said. “Regardless of its inaccuracy.”

The Doctor smiled. “Well there you go,” he said. “Welcome to the crew, Edwin.”

Seven sighed. It could be worse I suppose, she thought.

---

When Seven brought the Borg drone, now calling itself Edwin, to the Captain's ready room, Janeway couldn’t help but notice that Seven was starting to behave almost like a proud parent, though in her own unique way.

Seven succinctly explained to her how she’d familiarized Edwin with Voyager, including a productive visit to engineering where the drone had helped B’Elanna Torres by predicting the rate of expansion of the proto-nebula. After telling Janeway about his name and where he got it, and explaining that he had already assimilated forty-seven billion teraquads of information, he asked her if he was sufficient. When she told him he was, Edwin asked to be excused, as Torres had asked him to help improve the efficiency of the Bussard collectors. Once he was gone, Seven remained behind. “He’s been asking about the Borg collective,” she said. “I’ve been deflecting the conversation as much as possible, but I’m not sure how much longer I can put that off.” Janeway stood up and clasped her hands behind her back. “Maybe we won’t need to hold off much longer. It’s only been a few days but he’s already started fitting in well with the crew. Though from what I hear he could use some teaching in the personal space department.” “He does still tend to stand too close to people when speaking to them,” Seven admitted. “I am working with him on that. I asked Samantha to help me, but since she never had that particular problem with Naomi she had little advice to offer.” “Speaking of,” Janeway said. “has Edwin met Naomi yet?” “No,” Seven said. “While he has been adapting well, as you said, and even though Sam has stated she is okay with it I admit to still being somewhat reluctant.” Janeway nodded. “I can see that,” she said. “The way I understand it, your relationship with Samantha started because she had similar concerns about you.” “The similarity of the situations is not lost on me Captain, though at least in Sam’s case she did have specific instances she could point to to justify her concerns. I worry I am simply being overly cautious, as Edwin has not stolen a shuttle, or struck Harry Kim.” “Good point. As for the matter you first brought up, wouldn’t you rather he learn about the Borg from us than from the collective?” “The lure of perfection is powerful Captain. He may be tempted to seek out the Borg. That would pose a grave tactical risk.” “All the more reason he should hear about them from us, but we’ll continue withholding that information for now. As an individual though he does have the right to know. I won’t give you an ultimatum, I’m going to trust your judgment on when to tell him, but you must tell him.” “Understood, Captain. I have made the necessary upgrades to the alcove next to mine. After we have gone through a regeneration cycle, I will consult with some of the other parents on the ship to discuss the matter of how to present the information. Mister Tuvok and Mister Carey have multiple children, their experience would prove most valuable.” “Okay. See you in the morning, Seven,” Janeway said. As Seven went to leave though, a thought occurred to her. “Wait,” she said. “One last thing. Does Ensign Mulcahey know? About the drone’s name, I mean?” “I do not know. Lieutenant Torres believes he will not be pleased to learn about it, however. Her exact words were, ‘Todd is going to flip his shit when he finds out.’” Janeway smiled and chuckled. “I hope you told her to watch her language,” she said. Seven groaned. “After three months I’d hoped that that was finally over,” she muttered as she left the ready room.

---

Seven of Nine found herself abruptly brought out of her regeneration cycle. That in itself wasn’t unusual, though in the past when it had happened it was due either an intense nightmare, or a ship-wide alert. Instead, she was simply not in the cycle anymore, and her eyes were opening to the site of Captain Janeway, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, and several armed guards with phaser rifles pointed in their direction. “Captain?” Seven said. “The drone transmitted a Borg proximity signal. Wake him,” she said. Seven did exactly as she was told, feeling utterly disappointed, and a little worried. When Edwin opened his eyes and stepped out, Seven managed to impress herself with how level she managed to keep her tone of voice. “You have contacted the Collective,” she said. “I have not,” Edwin said. “Check his transceiver,” Janeway said. “Seven of Nine deactivated my transceiver two days ago,” Edwin said, seeming confused at the accusation rather than angry or defensive. Seven ran a tricorder over Edwin’s skull, and sighed. “Your cranial implants have adapted,” she said. “They built a second transceiver while you were in the regeneration cycle. Tuvok, have long range scans picked up any vessels?” “Not yet, but they have detected a transwarp conduit,” Tuvok said. “Assuming it is a Borg vessel, which is the most logical assumption, it will intercept us in approximately three hours.” “The Borg?” Edwin said. “Yes,” Seven said. “I wish to meet them.” “Seven?” Janeway said. “Looks like it’s time to have the talk.” Seven nodded, wishing she’d had more time to prepare for this. “Edwin, you are to follow the Captain and I to astrometrics,” she said.

“I will comply,” Edwin said.

Once there, Janeway put everything the ship’s records had on the Borg up on the large screen in the lab, including what visual logs there were of Wolf 359. Seven of Nine added some of her own from her own memory via her remaining cranial implants. “The Borg have assimilated thousands of species,” Edwin said. What becomes of those species?” “They lose their individuality. Everything they know becomes part of the collective’s memory, and they themselves become drones,” Seven said, bothered by the look of awe Edwin as on his face while he looked at the screen. “I wish to experience the hive mind,” he said. Crap, Seven thought. “If you do that,” Janeway said. “You will no longer be unique. Your individuality will be destroyed.”

“That is undesirable,” Edwin said, now looking at Janeway. “Very,” Janeway said.

“The Borg add voices to the collective against their will. I do not understand. Such a violent act would seem counter to the goal of seeking perfection, does it not?” “I believe it is,” Seven said. “While I still share many of the desires I had as a part of the collective, since my link to them was severed I find their methods repulsive.”

“The Borg are one of the most destructive forces we have ever encountered,” Janeway said. “With your technology, they would become even more so.”

Edwin looked at the screen again. “That is unacceptable,” he said. “Knowledge should not be obtained through violence.” Seven finally let go of the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. She was ready to congratulate Edwin on coming to that conclusion faster than she had, but Commander Chakotay’s voice over the comm interrupted them. “Red alert! All hands to battle stations. A Borg vessel is approaching.” “Come on,” Janeway said. “we need to get the bridge. You too Edwin. You can help us enhance our defenses.”

“Understood,” Seven said. The three of them turned and exited the lab, heading for the nearest turbolift.

---

Once on the bridge, Chakotay filled them quickly. “The Borg vessel’s moving into range,” he said. “It’s not a cube though, too small. We think it’s one of their spheres.” “A sphere?” Janeway said. “I read about that one in the data packet Starfleet sent us. Didn’t think I’d actually get to see one.” “We’re being scanned,” Harry Kim said from the ops console. “They’re preparing to attack,” Seven said. She turned to Edwin. “You must help us enhance our shields. This console over here will give you access to the field generators.”

“Captain?” Chakotay said, sounding unsure. “Do it,” Janeway said.

“We are being hailed. Captain,” Tuvok said. “Don’t bother responding, I think we all know the spiel by now,” Janeway said. “I can hear them,” Edwin said. “In my mind.” Seven thought he sounded afraid, as though the Borg would be able to assimilate him through thought alone. The ship shuddered. “They’ve got a tractor beam on us,” Harry said. “I hear them too,” Seven said, “We must resist. This ship will be destroyed if we do not.” Edwin nodded, and with a look of determination on his face, he held his arm over the console and fired off his assimilation tubules into it. Within seconds, the ship’s shields began modulating, and Voyager was able to break free of the Borg sphere’s tractor beam. “Can you enhance our phasers?” Janeway said. “Yes,” Edwin said. “Do it,” Janeway said. “Tuvok, as soon as he’s done target the sphere’s propulsion systems. Be prepared to jump to warp Mister Paris.”

“Yes ma’am,” Paris said. “Enhancements complete. You may fire,” Edwin said. “Firing,” Tuvok said. A second later, the ship shuddered even more violently than when it had been caught in the tractor beam. “They inverted our phaser beam with a feedback pulse,” Seven said. The ship began shuddering again as the sphere fired on them. “They just took out our warp drive,” Paris said. “Your technology is limited,” Edwin said. “I cannot enhance it any further. I must transport over to the sphere, and disrupt them from within.”

“They will try to assimilate you,” Seven said. “They will fail,” Edwin said very matter-of-factly, as if he were repeating something that he shouldn’t have to. Seven didn’t like it. She imagined that Sam would feel much the same way if it were Naomi offering to go fight the Borg all alone. Unlike Naomi though, Edwin could possibly do it, though that likelihood did little to temper her concerns.

Seven looked at Janeway. Janeway looked back, and nodded. “Harry,” Janeway said, “lock onto the drone.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Edwin said, activating his own internal transporter. “He’s inside the sphere,” Tuvok said. Seven turned to look at the viewscreen, and tried not to let her worry overwhelm her. The ship took another hit from the sphere’s weapons. “Shields down to 29%,” Harry said. “Had they not been enhanced they’d likely be down already,” Seven said. Harry chuckled. “No doubt about that,” he said. “The Krenim were able to hurt us worse than this.” “We haven’t survived this yet Lieutenant,” Chakotay said. “Don’t get cocky.”

Suddenly, the sphere stopped firing, and began moving. “It’s heading towards the proto-nebula,” Tom said. “It’s gonna get crushed in there.” Seven held back a gasp as the image of the viewscreen showed the sphere crumpling as it flew straight ahead, small pieces of it flying off into space while the rest of it collapsed in on itself like a mess hall napkin being crumpled up after its use.

“Beam back Edwin, beam back,” she muttered just before the sphere exploded, the shockwave making Voyager lilt so quickly inertial dampeners couldn’t fully compensate, and the whole bridge crew nearly lost their balance and toppled to the right.

Seven stared ahead at the viewscreen, her heart feeling like it was sinking into her stomach. The red alert lights went out and the main lights came back on, and Seven could hear Janeway giving orders to the command staff, but couldn’t process them, until Harry said something that snapped her out of it. “I’m detecting a lifesign,” he said. “It’s the drone, he made it. He’s erected a multi-spatial force field, but it’s collapsing. I’m attempting to get a lock on.”

“When you have him,” Janeway said, looking as happy as Seven felt, “beam him to sickbay.” “Aye Captain,” Harry said. Seven didn’t wait for permission, she bolted to the turbolift right away. “Sickbay!” she said, wishing the lift could go faster. When she got to sickbay, the Doctor was already scanning Edwin, who was lying on the biobed, his armor looking beaten up, and a red welt on his exposed head, but otherwise he seemed fine. “Damage?” “Several of his implants were fused in the explosion but they’re regenerating,” the Doctor said. “His biological systems are another story, Cranial trauma, internal bleeding, he’s going to need immediate surgery.” The Doctor closed his medical tricorder and moved quickly to grab his surgical equipment. “The sphere?” Edwin said. “Destroyed,” Seven said. “You were successful.”

Edwin closed his eyes and exhaled. “Good,” he said. He opened his eyes again and glanced at Seven. “The Borg are aware of my existence. I could hear their thoughts when I was linked to them, taking over the sphere. They will pursue me.” “Irrelevant,” Seven said. “I need to get started,” the Doctor said, gently nudging Seven aside. “No,” Edwin said. Seven’s lower lip began to quiver. No, no, don’t do this, she thought.

“I should not exist. I am an accident. A random convergence of technologies.” “You are unique,” Seven said, barely holding it together. “As long as I exist,” Edwin said, “you are in danger.” “We can talk about this later,” the Doctor said, going for Edwin’s neck with a hypospray, but it bounced off of a force field that was now suddenly surrounding Edwin’s body. “Allow the Doctor to proceed,” Seven said in as commanding a voice as she could manage. Edwin simply looked at her, his breathing quickening as an alert noise came from the Doctor’s console. “His synapses are failing,” the Doctor said. “Edwin, you must comply.” “I will not,” Edwin said, his voice shaking as his upper body convulsed. “You must comply. Please,” Seven said forcefully. Then quietly she added, “You are hurting me.” “You will adapt,” Edwin coughed out. Then the lights in his implants blinked out, his breathing slowed, and his body slackened, his mouth hanging partway open. Even before the Doctor walked up to her and said “I’m sorry,” Seven knew that he was gone. She couldn’t move, her eyes were beginning to wet, and she felt like she could barely breathe even though consciously she knew her lungs were fine. Eventually, without saying a word, she managed to walk, slowly, and left sickbay, only once having to use one of the nearby beds to maintain her balance before she made it out the door.

She went back to cargo bay 2. When she stepped inside, she just looked at the alcove that Edwin had used. She hadn’t wanted it to happen, but it did. She had begun to see Edwin as her offspring. She wondered if the Doctor felt any of the loss she did. She wondered if Ensign Mulcahey had any regrets about never having spoken to him. She sighed, and sat down in front of her own alcove, and began to cry. She wasn’t sure how much time she’d spent there when Samantha came walking in, holding a mug. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Hi,” Seven said back. Samantha sat down next to her and offered Seven the cup. “Vulcan tea,” she said. “I think it may have cooled down a bit too much on the way over.” “Thank you,” Seven said, taking the cup, but not bothering to drink it, instead focusing on the warmth of the sides of the mug in her hands. “How are you holding up?” Samantha said. “Not terribly well,” Seven admitted. “I feel like I lost a child.” “Yeah, well, I can understand that,” Samantha said, shifting uncomfortably. “Sam,” Seven said. “The Captain told me. About what really happened the day Naomi was born. The version that isn’t in the ship’s log.” “Oh. I had no idea. You never mentioned it.” “I did not feel I had the right to,” Seven said. “and even if I had felt I had the right, I also did not want to cause you any discomfort.” “So, why mention it now?” “If you, I mean, are you okay with me asking how you handled it?”

Samantha took a deep breath and put an arm around Seven’s shoulder, pulling her in close. “I wish I could help you, baby,” she said. “I really do, but I never really got the chance to handle it. I mean, it felt like one minute my daughter is dead, the next she’s back in my arms because the other Voyager sent her and Harry over. It all happened so fast. The whole incident, with the duplication, and the pulses, and the Vidiians, it was barely even half a day. Sometimes I have nightmares about it, but they’ve never been frequent. I never truly got to experience losing a child and I wake up every day hoping I never have to.” “We should all be so lucky,” Seven said. “But I’m not going to see Lieutenant Kim coming through a spatial rift with a perfectly intact Edwin following him.” “No,” Samantha said sympathetically as she gently stroked Seven’s hair. “I guess not.” “I’m torn,” Seven said after about a minute. “Between asking the Captain for time off to grieve, or simply throwing myself into a project of some kind. Maybe helping Tom with his new shuttle idea. He’s calling it the Delta Flyer. It seems adequate” Samantha chuckled. “Coming from you sweetie I’m sure he’d see that as high praise.” “What do you think I should do, Sam?” “Take the rest of the day off. I can handle astrometrics for awhile, you’ve shown me the basics. Get some rest. Then, after that, decide which of those two you’re going to do.” “Acceptable,” Seven said, resting her head on Samantha’s shoulder. “Just stay here with me for a few more minutes.”

#a fire of devotion #part 2 #prologue #chapter one #star trek voyager #fan fiction #sam7

1 note · View note