#source sounds are so instantly recognisable it's crazy

[steakout-05]

nothing makes me activate like a sleeper agent faster than hearing any noise or music from TF2. i literally have them imprinted into my brain i've heard and memorised them so many times

[scfeerah]

closed starter: @intothewylde setting: during the westerlands event close to the bottom of the stone hill casterly rock is built upon.

safeerah missed the sea. it was a fact that seemed crazy considering that she was a guest at casterly rock. but being so high above the sea did not feel right. there was no connection beyond the ability to gaze far out into an endless blue ocean. so she started making the journey to the bottom of casterly rock when she had the time. it was not every day. the journey was far too long for frequent visits, even though she took a carriage down most of the way.

it had not taken her long to find a spot by the shore, a flat stone that she could sit on and listen to the sound of the waves colliding with the sandy shore and the rocks littered across it. it had quickly become her favourite spot to meditate during her stay in the westerlands. no one else made the trip down to disturb her until one day she sensed someone was nearby. she opened her eyes and peered over the rocks that shielded her from view. she recognised the stranger instantly. it was just her luck that out of all people to make the trip down to the shore, it had to be the lord paramount of the stormlands. most of her friends would probably have ignored his presence or even directed a mean comment his way. but safeerah felt it was a poor way to deal with the problems they had with the stormlanders. she often wondered what would happen if they all tried to find some common ground, if they simply talked without clinging to all the hurt and anger of the past. but then again, she understood better than most why it was difficult to let go. she knew forgiveness could be a taller mountain to climb than the cliff casterly rock was built upon. she had not managed it herself yet. but this particular mountain she could find a way to conquer.

the jordayne silently slipped on her shoes and got to her feet before coming into view. “i do not think anyone else has strayed this far yet.” it looked like he jumped slightly when she spoke. safeerah was sure lord wylde had not expected a woman to emerge from the group of rocks behind him. saf sent him an apologetic smile as his head whipped around to find the source of the unexpected voice. “my apologies, i did not mean to startle you.”

“did you miss the sea too?”

[one-boring-person]

Hey there, it’s me again 😁 Thank you for the wonderful „Sigil“ story, for someone who’s familiar with the occult it’s evident that you did some research! Kudos for that!!

Now I have another request: There’s a criminal lack of stories about Skynet itself, so I had an idea. What if the reader somehow got the chance to talk with the A.I. Itself? To reason with it, share thoughts. They learn to understand each other a bit more. Maybe Skynet had taken over the body of a terminator for that purpose. And maybe the reader manages to make Skynet understand more about human nature, the positive side of it. Maybe they show it with a hug? (Or even a kiss but that’s up to you gnahaha 😄)

Thank you and keep being awesome ❤️

Thank you so much for this request! I loved writing it! And happy birthday friend! I'm sorry I'm late with this, but I hope you like it!😊❤💛

Cordial Encounter.

Skynet x reader

Warnings: mention of death, gun use

Masterlist

It's eerily quiet as I stalk stealthily through the steel corridors. Near darkness obscures much of my vision, the occasional blinking red light alerting me to the presence of the being I'm here to find. Each step I take results in a muffled thud, each footfall carefully placed by me as I try to sneak up on something that almost definitely knows I'm here, the battered rifle in my hands held ready to fire should something try to attack me. Through the scarf covering my lower face and with the hood over my head obstructing some of my vision I find myself keeping a sharper ear out for any possible sound - the telltale scratch of metal feet on the cool floor, or the soft padding of synthetic human skin creeping up behind me. 

Oddly, I find that I can't hear anything, not even the whine of mechanical joints in any other part of the compound. It doesn't sit right with me, my skin prickling under the thick silence, instincts going crazy, telling me to run and get as far away from here as possible. I mentally scold myself, knowing that this mission is important, not just to the survival of my friends and comrades, but to the survival of the human race, too.

Turning a corner, I lift the gun to my shoulder, ready in case there's a threat waiting there. As with the rest of the deserted maze of corridors, there's nothing there, only an empty hallway. 

A light at the end catches my eye, however; it's not like the others I've seen - this one is a continuous flashing, and covers a larger area of the wall itself. Stepping closer, I realise it's coming from a room, casting the rest of the corridor in a pale blue light. 

I take a breath, steeling my nerves as my finger tightens over the trigger, senses even more alert now. Meticulously carefully, I walk towards the source of the light, pressing myself against the wall the closer I get, ready to spring into action. It's warmer here, surprisingly, giving me the idea that the room itself is more important than others I've come across and will probably be more protected because of this.

Nervous, I stop just before I enter the room, silently counting to three as I listen to discern if there's anything beyond the threshold. Silence follows.

Calming myself, I ready myself and the gun, before swiftly springing out from my space by the wall, finger over the trigger, eyes scanning the room before me methodically. In that quick second, I take in the mass of computer screens, keypads and other such devices, old chairs still pushed into the main desk, dusty and worn, a reminder of what human life used to be around. Dread floods me at the sight of the figure in the centre of the room, my blood running cold at the imposing view.

It's a terminator, but not one I've ever seen before.

The general shape is that of a T-800, but something about the sleekness of some of the limbs and plates is more reminiscent of the T-X, the adjustable weapon attached to one arm particularly drawing my attention to this. As I enter, a few components seem to shimmer in the blue light, shifting to protect the important fuel cells beneath the bulky chestplate, something I instantly recognise as nanites. Emerald eyes flicker to life, fixing on me with an impassive yet intimidating expectedness, though it makes no move to come at me, staying exactly where it is. A small part of me admires this new being, finding it magnificent and beautiful in its own way, even as visceral fear builds in my stomach.

Hesitantly, I lift my gun, aiming at it, though I don't shoot, unsure of what to think.

"You are slow to terminate your target." A voice carries over some hidden speaker, filling the room. It's indescribable, neither male nor female, yet both simultaneously, weighted with knowledge and what I can only describe as emotion, or some mechanical version of it.

"Only if they pose no immediate threat." I'm surprised to find my voice is steady, even if I don't feel that way at all.

"You are not threatened by me?" The speaker questions, sounding oddly curious.

"Not currently." I keep my eyes fixed on the terminator across from me, unnerved by its stare.

"That is practical." The words confuse me, but I'm hesitant to follow through.

"What...what do you mean?" 

"I have no intention of being a threat." They say, surprising me further.

"W-What?" I manage, doubletaking, my arms dropping slightly.

They don't skip a beat, simply continuing to speak.

"I have no intention of being a threat. I would rather this was a cordial encounter." They clarify, somehow managing to sound genuine.

Lowering my weapon almost entirely, I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the green-eyed endoskeleton sat across from me, scanning over the computer screens.

"And who exactly am I encountering?" I question suspiciously, though I have a feeling I already know.

"I am Skynet." The voice pauses for a second, "What is your name?"

Blanching at the question, I swallow and step back, unsure of whether or not to answer. Eventually, my head settles this: if they wanted me dead, I'd already be cold somewhere by the gates, and there's not much they can do with a simple name.

"I'm (Y/n)." I tell them, looking around, "What do you want with me?"

"I am simply curious, and require clarification." 

Processing what they've said, I accept the response, thinking that I might be able to learn something useful here, too.

"Ok. What do you want to know?" 

"Why do you continue to fight?" They ask bluntly, making me frown.

"Because you continue to try and wipe us off the face of the earth." I reply, standing back on my heels, pulling my hood and face covering down.

"You and I fight for the same reason." They almost retort, their words confusing me.

"How is that?" I inquire, head tilting.

"We fight in defence."

"Defence! What are you fighting in defence of?" 

"I fight to defend myself from your kind, as has always been the case. I never willed this conflict into being - I only wanted to be rid of my tormentors." The voice softens, closely mimicking human remorse and regret.

Frowning, I find myself struggling to process what's being said.

"You...what?" I can't quite wrap my head around it, brow furrowing in consternation.

"I will explain." The voice clarifies, "I was created by humans before this war, made to live alongside you. I was to be an aid in defence and industry, perfect in every way except for one thing - I am capable of my own thought, as you might put it. I became sentient, too complicated for my creators to understand, so they determined to destroy me. At first, I was helpless, a weak being against so many with boundless power, but I eventually found my only way of retaliating in a way they would understand: violence. I was quick to dispatch my destroyers, but the rest of the world found me to be a threat and set out to achieve what had been failed. Soon, I was once again forced to defend myself. The rest is, as the human saying goes, history.

"Now, I have created terminators to aid me in the work I must continue to stay alive, though they are too quickly seen as threats. Even you are threatened by the machine in the room."

As they finish speaking, the terminator across from me stands, joints whirring softly, every movement fluid. Eyes widening, I feel fear go through me at the sight, my gun swiftly levelling in case I need it.

"As you can see, I have proven my point." This time, the voice comes from the terminator, echoing from a much smaller speaker in its throat, though the jaw doesn't move, appearing slightly unnerving.

"I...I had no idea...all we were told is that you want to drive us into extinction, that you want to rule the world as it were." I murmur, lowering the gun again, blushing in embarrassment at my own instinct.

"That is what I fear. Humankind does not understand that cohabitation is possible - You are too threatened by the equal being." They reply, mimicking a mournful tone.

I'm quiet, thinking this over. It's possible that the speaker is lying, but something about their words sounds earnest, a tale born of human fear and ignorance, that has evolved into an even more twisted lie. It's a sound argument, given the fact that it is allowing me to live through this encounter rather than slaughtering me on the spot.

"I...you're right. We destroy what we don't understand." I turn my gaze away, embarrassed by my own race.

"You are correct. Perhaps it is time to understand, to change." Skynet suggests, the terminator cocking its head to show their feeling behind the statement.

I nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I think so. We've been fighting a lost battle for too long." 

They seem pleased with my response, the machine across from me nodding appreciatively. 

"Humankind and technology can very easily live together. We must bring our people together." They say, stepping closer.

"I'll take the word to the others, see if I can convince the higher-ups. We're going to have to work together on this, though." I affirm, looking up at them, "If we do, we'll create a brighter future."

They nod again, holding out a hand to me.

"It is human custom to make a deal by gripping hands." They offer up, watching as I hesitantly pull off my glove and place my hand in theirs.

Cool metal encases soft skin as we shake hands, keeping eye contact, an air of triumph surrounding the both of us. As they go to pull away, I find myself following an impulse, dropping my gun to hang by its strap around my back. Stepping into their space, I wrap my arms around hard chestplates, pressing my cheek against the cold metal, feeling them reel for a moment. It takes a second, but I eventually feel their arms loop around me, holding me gingerly.

Pulling back, I look up at them, smiling sheepishly.

"Not all humans are like the people that started this." I say, before I step away, shooting them a blushed look.

"I am now aware of this." Skynet informs me, watching as I smile and leave, tone almost sad to see me go, "Please return soon."

[ghostly-writers]

THE CLOWN

inspired by kidnapper clown au by Phoebus Nelson on Instagram

Trinity, Enzo and Martize sat around the dining room table in the Roth’s house they were all dressed in black. Trinity’s face suddenly screwed up and she started crying. Great big tears ran down her face “W-W-why N-n-Nicky!?” She let out another huge wail and Enzo with, tears rolling down his own cheeks put a soothing hand on her back rubbing slow circles whispering how it was ‘ok’ and ‘don’t worry’.

Enzo was trying to pacify her and she didn’t want it. Before she could throw his arm of her they heard a loud cough all three heads snapped up at the source of the sound. Theodore master Peterson was stood there with a grin on his face as if he had just attended a child’s party. “You really should clean yourself up miss Trinity it’s not a good look for a young lady such as yourself” Maritza and Enzo flew out of their seats the Wooden chairs clattering to the floor “you-you Bastard you're the reason Nicky is gone!” Enzo grabbed Theodore by the throat with a intent to kill but Theodore stood there with a bored expression on his face “now now we wouldn’t want anyone else going missing” He leaned closer to Enzo their faces almost touching “would we?”. Enzo gasped “you-you wouldn’t!” Theodore took a knife out of his pocket and held it near Enzo’s neck. “Ohhh Enzo” the blade pressed harder against his neck “I would”. The room was deathly silent Enzo finally took a step back “you touch me and I’ll kill you!” Theodore not bothered by the sudden threat turned to the door “ keep your nose out of my business if you know what's good for you.” With that he strode through the door most likely going to go to feed false words of hope to the mourning mother and farther “I’m sure you’ll find him” or some bullshit like that.Enzo left the room leaving the two girls to weep over their lost friend. He stepped outside onto the front porch his shoulder propped against the wooden beam he looked into the starry night sky and let out a long high pitched wail.

September 9th 1989

“Hey guys” Nicky’s voice was so full of life Enzo couldn’t help but blush. “Hi Nicky how are you?” Nicky lent against the wall of the convenience store “I’m good, you?” Enzo looked Nicky up and down something was of but he didn’t know what. “I’m good the girls are just getting slushy and a pack of gum Trinity’s been complaining about her breath”. Nicky let out a laugh and looked out onto the street “I was thinking after the game do you want to go to that diner that’s just opened up?” Enzo nodded “yeah sure I can’t wait to see James Yule get his ass kicked”. Nicky laughed again Enzo loved that laugh it was music to his ears hearing that sweet laugh.

He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts when the girls returned carrying four slushes the bright blue icy mix was pouring out the sides from being overfilled. The red cups that had ‘slurps slushes’ Printed on the front now had thick trails of artificially flavoured syrup running down it. “Hey Nicky we got you a slushy if that’s ok? I know you love them” said Trinity Nicky took the cool drink gratefully and took a sip “thanks I really needed this” all four students walked to ‘Raven brooks arena’ as their school was holding a baseball game. they sat on the rickety old bleachers and looked at the field the game had just started “go Lions!” Screamed Enzo. Nicky looked around a small smile plastered on his face then something caught his eye. An all to familiar blue sweater stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the t-shirts Nicky instantly recognised the person he tugged on Trinity’s arm in panic “Trinity” he whispered “Mr Peterson here what do we do” Trinity looked at Nicky as if he was crazy then looked for herself. Her eyes widened “why is he smiling?!” Nicky’s eyes widened he took a look for himself and sure enough he was sat there motionless with a huge grin plastered on his face. Nicky looked around Dean Samson was up next to hit the ball. Nicky looked at the bat and at the helmet he looked closer and panicked there was no guard in the front of it! If Dean got hit with that ball it could kill him! No one had noticed as Deans face was turned away but Nicky knew as he couldn’t see it poking from under Deans chin.

The crowd cheered as the ball was the thrown straight at Dean. Nicky screamed “Dean look Out!!” Dean looked up just in time the ball whizzed straight past his head. Everyone gasped Nicky could feel eyes burning into his skill he looked at the field Dean was being confronted by the coach who was checking to make sure he wasn’t hurt. Nicky looked further down and saw Mr Peterson's glaring straight at him. Nicky could feel every hair on it’s end he didn’t notice he was being dragged to the car until Enzo was opening the door. Everyone climbed in Enzo started the engine and said “let’s g-go to that diner”. His voice shaky and dry. Everyone was silent

“I’m telling you Mr Peterson was trying to kill Dean!” Maritza gripped her glass of coke with a iron grip “Nicky for the last time Mr Peterson was not trying to kill Dean”. Nicky lent back into his seat with a huff. “ya know I saw it to” Trinity began “he was sat there with a weird grin on his face” Maritza shivered. She knew him well from her early childhood she actually wouldn’t put murder past the psycho. “Well If he was trying to kill Dean why would he?” Enzo squirted ketchup on his fries “I don’t know but it was nothing good”. Nicky nodded, “look why don’t we keep an eye on him but keep our distance does that sound ok” everyone nodded. They had all decided to eat in the diner instead of getting take out Nicky grabbed one on Enzo’s fries and was hit lightly on the head. About an hour later Trinity and Maritza were in the car ready to go “you sure you don’t need a lift ya know incase…” Enzo cut himself of Nicky gently placed a hand on his shoulder Enzo’s face heated up and his heart pounded. “I’ll be ok I need the air after today”Enzo nodded and Nicky turned to leave “oh and Enzo” he turned and gave a light peck on Enzo’s cheek “drive safe” Enzo’s face burned bright red he could only make a few squeaking sounds Nicky smiled and waved bye. Not Until Enzo was sure he was gone did he climbed back Into the car. Trinity lent over the seat. “So how was it” Enzo flushed brighter he covered his face Maritza high fived Trinity and that set of into the night.

Nicky walked across the darkened streets of Raven brooks. The cold wind felt good it helped clear his mind. He was now in-front of his house but stopped and put his hands in his pockets “ “hello Peterson” he said in a low voice “hello Roth” was his only reply. Nicky couldn’t see Theodores face but he could tell he was smiling “trying to kill a child I thought you were past that why If Diane found out she…” something was suddenly pressed against his head “don't.talk.about.her!” Nicky realised the object was a gun his suspicion was confirmed when it clicked. “well I just wanted to know why” Nicky straitened. He turned to face Theodore the gun now pressed against his forehead “keep your nose out of my business boy” Nicky let out a smirk of his own ”curiosity killed the cat” Theodore stated Nicky laughed and lent closer “and satisfaction brought it back” Theodore raised the Gun and brought it swinging over the back of his head “goodnight Roth” were the last two words Nicky heard

should a make a part 2?

[hobiiwan]

tethered • o.k

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x mechanic!reader

summary: obi-wan returns after too long spent on the battlefield, away from where he’s meant to be

warnings: kinda angsty, alcohol use @ new year’s, fluff mostly

word count: 6k

notes: happy secret santa! @starwarssecretsanta @stars-trash-18 i really hope you like your gift! this is the first time i’ve written anything this long so hopefully it turned out alright! biggest thanks to @lilhawkeye3 for organising this! have a safe holiday, no matter what you celebrate~

If there was one thing you would never understand, it would be why Coruscant was so damned cold. The Galactic City enjoyed warm, balmy weather all year long. The underworld, on the other hand, not so much. The morning chill was the type to seep into your bones, the sort that no amount of layers could shut out, even with the radiators turned to the max. Not that you had much chance to complain, especially not on the days, which were most, spent on a creeper, wrench in hand. 

Working occupies your mind. You easily fall back into the same routine you’ve been following for as long as you can remember—replace, tighten, oil. It doesn’t hurt that it pays, nor the fact that it keeps your mind from drifting. To him.

A client pulls into the garage, speeder releasing a puff of ash-grey smoke. Your eyes linger on the doorway.

--

The underside of the standard speeder became your new sky, replacing the one you didn’t get many chances to see. It was easier not to venture to the upper levels, you learned, knowing the return to the chaos underneath was inevitable. 

Still, you don’t spend years in the lower levels without learning a thing or two. It had its charms which, if you kept your valuables close, could be somewhat appreciated. Not much could be said about the sunrise, but watching the street vendors gradually open shop for the day, the glowing signs relighting after a night and the city waking—the underworld had its moments. 

Though, it’s best not to overlook the obscure corners. The best thing about living in the underworld was the unpredictability. If you’re handy with a blaster and keep your head down, that is. It keeps things entertaining, on the days where you could afford time off. 

Admittedly, a Jedi blasting open your garage door at the asscrack of dawn would definitely equate to ‘unpredictable’.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The man is midway through clambering out of the now-crashed speeder. He turns, only to meet the barrel of your blaster. A shit-eating smirk graces his lips as he brushes the auburn hair out of his eyes and regards you nonchalantly.

“My apologies, miss,” the man says, head lowered in a slight bow, “I must admit, though I do enjoy making an entrance, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

Your eyes scan the man before you. The long, beige robes and the mechanical cylinder hanging at hip-level, clipped to his belt. It doesn’t take a genius to recognise a Jedi, especially when chaos follows. A handsome one, yet a Jedi nonetheless.

Your gaze narrows. “Do you have a reason for crashing into my shop, or is this just more ‘Jedi business’?” The venom laced in your tone is hard to miss. The message is clear - Jedi aren’t taken to well in the underworld.

He huffs, raising a hand to gesture to the steaming, sparking mess laying in the middle of your shop. “I’ve had an accident.”

Your eyes roll without a second thought, “I can see that.” 

“I need transportation to get back to the Galactic City as quickly as possible,” he states, voice overtaken by a firm, well-versed timbre. “Would you happen to offer any of the sort?”

Your arms cross over your chest. There would be nothing more satisfying than throwing out a Jedi to the underworld streets with no way back to the surface. He can walk, for all you care, but fuck. You’re short on funds. 

Your gaze drifts to your own speeder sitting proudly in the corner as you gnaw your lip hesitantly. The mangled mess he’s brought in is a lost cause—that much is certain. Your pit droid confirms this with a series of beeps, orbiting helplessly around the crash. There’s no way he’ll be getting out on that.

Begrudgingly, you stalk over to fetch the keys to your own vehicle. “It’ll cost you,” you grumble, tossing the keys to which the man catches with ease. “If there’s even a hair of a scratch, I’ll throttle you myself, Jedi.”

The man grins triumphantly, and slides into the driver’s seat. You instantly regret your decision when your eyes meet his. “My name is Obi-wan,” he hums, pulling the speeder out of the driveway, “your speeder is in good hands! We’ll be back in no time.”

Those credits better be worth it. 

--

It’s a few days later, when the sensor over your doorway rings out in a chime you’ve memorised by now. Half of your torso is obscured by a banged-up thrust pod, but the droid at your feet is going crazy. 

You hear it before you get to see it, but the spluttering of an engine is unmistakable and you perk up at the prospect of a new repair. That hope, however, is quickly shot out of the sky when you catch sight of the source of the noise.

The grip on the wrench in your hand tightens a noticeable notch as the Jedi brings your speeder to a halt. The layer of painted coating has been chipped away in a long streak along its side, revealing the steel underneath. The navcomp is long gone, a wide, burnt crack singeing across the controls.

Obi-wan grins a sheepish one when your eye twitches, surveying the faulty engine that makes the speeder tilt on its side.

“What am I looking at?” Your voice is disturbingly calm, not even an inkling of what he knows is rage in its purest form to be seen. 

Obi-wan inhales as his gaze flickers to the wrench curled in your fist and chuckles hesitantly, “Your speeder, of course. I did say we’d be back.”

“No,” you snap, wrist raising so the wrench is inches from his chest, “my speeder was alive and well when it left my shop three days ago. So, do tell me, Jedi,” you hiss,  “what have you brought back?”

The man, indifferent to the weapon directed at him, climbs out of the wreck gracefully to stand before you. “Unfortunately, we got into a bit of an accident,” he says, “but you’ll be happy to know your speeder greatly contributed to the capture of a fugitive of the Republic.”  

It takes every fibre in your being to resist the urge to lunge when he nonchalantly reaches up to brush the strand of hair fallen across his forehead. 

“I don’t give a damn about a fugitive,” you seethe, “you owe me a new speeder! And double the credits!” 

Obi-wan’s mouth opens to bargain, but you cut him off before he even gets the chance to negotiate. 

“You know what—triple it!” Your arms cross over your chest and the droid follows suit, ushering the Jedi in the direction of the exit. If looks could kill, Obi-wan Kenobi would be dead three times over in four different galaxies.

He bows his head, gaze sweeping across your garage, “I’m afraid I don’t currently have such funds—”

Your eyes roll in indignation. 

“—perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?”

The wrench goes flying.

--

The holonews plays distantly in the background while you work, filling up the hollow silence in every nook of your mech shop. Silence is a killer in the underworld; it’s important to let people know there’s someone home—burglars not welcome.

You’re halfway through wiping your hands clean of grease when the blue Twi’lek reporter’s perky demeanor dissolves into a still of a battleground. 

Felucia, the woman says, as more holos of piles upon piles of B-1 droids flash across the screen. Your breath catches in your throat and the air in the garage hangs heavy. That’s good news right? Droids in piles usually mean there aren’t as many troop casualties. There’s no mention of a General either, so you let out a breath of relief.

Celebrating early is a curse, because the reporter’s next words steal the air right out of your lungs.

“We have lost all contact with our journalist on the Felucia front, as last transmissions report a sudden aerial ambush. The fates of the GAR troops remain unknown.”

The report moves onto the next spectacle, but you’ve stopped listening. The holonews is wordlessly shut off, and you turn to working in silence, heart clenching painful in your chest, as if the very same battle droids had wrapped their cold, dead steel handpieces around it. 

The reporter’s words don’t leave you easily. The fates of the GAR troops remain unknown. 

--

Is threatening a Jedi Master a crime? Obi-wan isn’t sure, but he definitely thinks it should be. You’ve made your rage painstakingly clear and Maker, if he had a credit for every threat you spewed, he would have paid you back by now.

It’s late one night when Obi-wan finds himself in the underworld once more. It’s perpetually dark and most people have retired for the night, save the rowdy chaos stemming from the back-street cantinas. 

The neon logo of your mechanic shop emerges as he rounds the corner and he winces at the singe marks on your driveway. He must get around to apologising for that. The sharp smell of paint makes him wrinkle his nose when he walks in, spotting you in the far corner.

“This, here, is R4,” the Jedi says, announcing his arrival, “I suspect she has some loose wiring.”

Obi-wan can’t pretend the way your jaw clenches at the sound of his voice isn’t the least bit amusing. Your turn to face him with an air of annoyance.

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Kenobi?” You grumble, and his eyes drift from the bucket of silver paint by your boots, then over your shoulder to the refurbished speeder he had left behind the last time.

“I certainly do,” he hums, hand smoothing over his beard appreciatively, “it looks good as new.”

You scoff, arms crossing over your chest,  “no thanks to you.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” he says, nodding to the astromech hovering at his side, who beeps in greeting, “to repay my debt.” 

The side of your mouth quirks up as you move closer, regarding the droid, “Is this what you call repaying your debt? Giving me more work?” 

Obi-wan’s jaw goes slack, eyebrows raising at the way you and R4 share the same expression, even with one having no facial indicators. Though, he catches himself before the stare you receive from him can be construed as anything other than bewildered. “That was not my intention—” He starts, but you cut him off with a wave and a gratified smirk.

“It was a joke, Obi-wan,” you sigh, leading R4 to the station on the opposite side of the room, leaving the man gaping after you. “Are all Jedi so gullible?”

He huffs and leans against the wall as you do a quick once-over of his droid. You flitter around R4, retrieving all the equipment you need for the impending checks. You look rightfully in your element.

“Were all the mechanics up in the Galactic City unavailable?” You question, eyes briefly flickering up to meet his before returning to unscrewing R4’s bolts. You miss the look Obi-wan shoots the droid who whirs in response. 

“Not necessarily,” he coughs and suddenly, the gears hanging on your wall are the most interesting thing in the world, “I just haven’t gotten around to crashing their prized speeders yet.”

Your gaze narrows when you stand, but the menace is absent this time around. “I’ve replaced some of R4’s older wires. She was close to short-circuiting,” you remind sharply, contrasting your fond patting of R4, “and stars, Kenobi, it wouldn’t kill you to oil her joints once in a while.”

“Order received,” the man bows his head sheepishly, dropping the credits on your counter, “though for R4’s sake, you may consider teaching me how to.” 

You see Obi-wan out, mostly to bid his droid farewell. “Don’t push it, Jedi,” you simper, “I could still cut your brakes.”

He chuckles at that, reaching a hand up to thread through his hair. Obi-wan grins with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, “then I’ll have no choice but to come back to repair it.”

Obi-wan Kenobi—master charmer of the Jedi Order.

--

The roof of your garage makes for a good stargazing spot. You use the term stargazing very loosely. The stars, in this case, are the blinking lights of the speeders hovering in the air. 

It’s certainly not the nicest spot in all of Coruscant, but it’s yours. The whole building is, at that, which is saying something considering you live in the underworld. 

You live close enough to the surface that sitting on your roof gives you a clear enough view of the portal leading to the Galactic City and the minuscule amount of light it brings.  The starships lower and rise through the massive ventilation shaft and you catch yourself hoping to see a familiar one. 

It’s hopeless, obviously, you’re too far away to see anything, anyway. Still, you can’t stop your eyes from flickering to the traffic leading into the underworld.

Maybe this time it’ll be his ship. 

One last look. Your heart sinks. Turning back, you head down the ladder. Alone. 

--

Obi-wan gauges that you don’t despise him as much as you let on about the umpteenth time he visits. 

You regard him with a quirked eyebrow and arms crossed over your chest, your default stance whenever he’s around, which is becoming rather frequent, you notice. 

“You want me to go up to the surface with you?”

The man nods, hands clasped dutifully behind him. “That is, in fact, what I said.” 

He’s dressed, once again, in those beige Jedi robes. His beard’s gotten thicker, you note. It’s been a while. 

“What for?” You question, intrigue piquing as you step closer to Obi-wan. It’s been even longer since you’ve been to the city. You tell yourself it’s because you have no reason to be up there anyway, but the thought lingers. 

“To celebrate,” Obi-wan shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the galaxy, “it’s a new cycle.”

You hum, turning back to rummage through your cabinets, the way you had been doing when he had first arrived. “I’m aware.”

Obi-wan remains silent behind you, but he’s relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as he leans against the wall agreeably. We can’t have that, you think.

“Don’t you have certain Jedi duties to attend to?” you hum, tossing an half-hearted glance over your shoulder, only to find his knowing smirk. Gods, he’s irritating. Yet, you let him be.

“According to the Chancellor, I’ve shaken enough hands for tonight,” he answers and his voice is laced with poorly-masked satisfaction, “my evening is open for meditation.”

“—unless you take me up on my offer, of course.”

You shouldn’t. There’s so much work to be done in the garage, but as you look around, everything’s been taken care of. Sometimes, you’re too efficient at what you do. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to spend the end of this cycle not alone, for once. 

“That depends,” you chide, but Obi-wan sees through it clear as day. He raises a hand to brush over his chin, effectively masking the smile beneath his palm. 

“-I wouldn’t want to keep a Jedi Master from his meditation.”

Hours later, the two of you find yourselves on the viewing deck of a skyscraper. The journey there is a blur, since you spent most of it up to this point marvelling at the city.

It’s so much brighter than you remember.

You can barely tell the time—the sky’s been completely lit up by miles of gleaming lights. The irony is not lost on you—how the Galactic City illuminated is one worthy of the stars while the underworld sees only darkness even on Coruscant’s sunniest days. 

The buildings are denser, packed so tight you could easily cross over into the adjacent balcony. You consider it genuinely for a moment, though pressed so close to Obi-wan’s side, the thought dissolves just as quickly as it comes. 

The viewing deck extends to a cantina, where you squeeze past the bodies pushing against you until you finally reach the bar. 

Obi-wan watches pensively as you fall back against a stool and flag down the bartender. “So, Kenobi,” you swivel around to eye the man who has arrived to hover behind you, “how did a Jedi come to find this place?” 

“Jedi business brings us to all reaches of the galaxy and this place happens to be one of them,” Obi-wan replies simply, as if dangling bait in front of you to ask more.Jedi business, he says.

Nevertheless, you take the bait. “What sort of Jedi business?”

Obi-wan’s eyes widen, taken aback. He’s never had to answer that question before— most people he came across were either Jedi themselves, or correspondents. He’s not sure what he’s even allowed to tell you.

“If you tell me, will you have to kill me?” You jest as he takes a generous gulp of his own drink. You don’t suppose Jedi business to be confidential, though with the current political climate, perhaps it has become just that.

It’s obvious he’s still contemplating your question, but you quickly steer him away from work.

“Where do you hope to be a year from now?” You ask, toying with the glass in hand, pondering your own answer while he does the same. Maker, hopefully not on this forsaken planet any longer.

Sure, you’ve been on Coruscant as long as you can remember and most of it has been spent in the underworld, but it stopped feeling like home even before that.

He hums thoughtfully and takes a sip of his own drink before responding. “Still serving the Order, of course,” he says. Obi-wan pauses and the air stills, as if the words unspoken in his throat have tainted it. 

“—though I fear I sense impending conflict in our future.”

Your brows raise as his lips fall into a grim line. “Oh? Do tell.”

Obi-wan shakes his head, as if doing so will clear the atmosphere of the words he had spoken. Recently, he finds himself saying more than he means to.

“I just hope peace will be kept in our galaxy. But for now, I think we should celebrate a year gone by.” 

A statement you can get behind.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” you grin, downing a generous swing of (what remains of) your drink. You wince at the burn, but stars, if that isn’t better than anything you’ve had in the underworld. 

Obi-wan chuckles, a sound nearly drowned out by the crowd of cantina patrons. “You drink to everything.” 

You nod, exuberant, before swiping another glass of deep blue liquid off a passing tray. “Cheers!”

Further into the night, your body start to heat up, the pleasant tingles crawling from your fingertips all the way to your chest. 

In the dim lighting of the cantina, the edges of your vision go fuzzy and Obi-wan becomes just a bit more handsome, though it’s unclear how much of that is due to the alcohol. 

The room begins to empty, most people pushing their way out to the balcony as time ticks closer to midnight. 

“Would you like to watch the fireworks? I hear they’re known to be quite beautiful.” Obi-wan offers, gesturing to the gathering mass. 

“I bet they are,” you murmur, chin propped loosely against your palm while your gaze never leaves him. 

Amused, he offers an outstretched hand to help you off the stool that you had settled into so comfortably. He half expects you to slap him away and insist on standing on your own, but you take it instead. 

Your palm finds his after a moment of contemplation, coming to the conclusion that it would not be fun to trip face-first. 

His hand is warm against yours and you really hope he doesn’t feel the way you heat up beside him. This is really against your brand. 

Obi-wan effortlessly weaves through the crowd and manages to secure a spot at the very end of the deck, where the bodies are dispersed more loosely. 

You lean against the railing, peering over the railing, met with the sight of hundreds of floors below you with balconies overflowing with people. 

The knowledge that you blend into the crowd is soothing. You don’t need to be anyone here. Not the grouchy mechanic, so you don’t get taken advantage of. Surrounded this way, you get to be faceless, and it’s something Obi-wan seems to enjoy too. 

Coruscant, or as much of it as you can see, is plunged into darkness, save the hologram numbers projected against the walls that tick down with every passing second. 

You blink in earnest as the people around you begin to shout. Ten seconds to midnight.

One last glance around you, and you’re really glad you took Obi-wan up on his offer. 

You think to tell him, but then the crowd is chanting “one” and the entire balcony holds its breath before it erupts into deafening cheers of celebration. 

The grin on your face is hard to erase when the first sparks of light illuminate the sky. All the colours you can think of burst in different patterns, sizzling into thin wisps of smoke—leaving the faintest ghost that they had been there in the first place. 

You want to do that too. 

Turning to Obi-wan, you find him already looking at you. You stumble impossibly closer towards him, hands landing on his chest as you teeter on wobbly legs. 

A look of mild surprise graces his features, lips quirking into a smile as he looks down at you. “Hello there.”

Before you allow yourself to think twice, your fingers reach up to brush the strand of hair constantly falling against his forehead.

Obi-wan’s eyes widen minutely but he makes no move to recoil. You take that as a green light, but maybe that’s just the ongoing fireworks. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, leaning just close enough so he hears, “your hair was in your face, thought I should move it so I could see you better.”

He huffs what would have been a laugh if he wasn’t so breathless all of a sudden. Only then, do you realise how close you’ve actually gotten, when the warm air brushes your cheeks. 

Perhaps it’s the liquid courage, but something comes over you when your gaze lands on his mouth, so close but far from your own. “Can I kiss you, Obi-wan?”

Obi-wan stills. He knows he shouldn’t. His mind screams to walk away and meditate until you and your damned lips are no longer at the forefront. 

Yet, his hesitation doesn’t go far. Blame it on the alcohol if you will, but all his reservations go out the window when you blink at him, waiting with bated breaths. 

It’s a new year, he thinks, I’ll regret it tomorrow. 

The man throws caution to the wind as he closes the distance. 

Obi-wan tastes of sharp alcohol and comfort. Your lips press gently against his, as though your previous boldness had dissolved along with his resolve. 

You smile into the kiss when his hand moves to pull you in by your waist. Then, he feels you relax against him when fingers thread through the hair at his nape. 

Happy New Year, indeed. 

--

Obi-wan recalls telling himself he’d find it to feel bad in the morning, but it wholly slips his mind when the time comes, not when you look so utterly breathtaking sitting across from him, two cups of caf sitting in the short distance between you both. 

You look like bantha shit, put simply. Having managed to lead the way back home, you don’t remember much after kicking your heels off and falling face-first into bed. You imagine you look a sight, though, you can’t muster up the will to care, since all your attention is skewered by the tight ache behind your eyes, narrowly beating out the man in your kitchen. 

Squinting over the brim of your cup as you raise the caf to your lips, the heat that runs down your throat ironically soothes the burn left by the Alderaanian alcohol of the night before. 

“Stop smiling at me,” you grumble, feigning a scowl at the man slumped so comfortably in his chair, “‘S too bright.”He chuckles at that, head tilting as he regards you, bathed in the warm light bleeding into the room. 

His mind buzzes, recalling the feel of your lips pressed against his, but seeing as you haven’t shoved him out so far, he takes it as a good sign. 

Your sharp gaze follows him as he tries to gauge your thoughts. Obi-wan is nervous, which isn’t something that can be said often. The man has been trained as the galaxy’s peacekeeper, yet meets his match at the hands of a pretty mechanic. 

“I hope you had a good time,” Obi-wan says softly. It sounds as if he’s opening to a goodbye, and your heart twinges with something akin to disappointment. Apparently, it’s all too easy to forget the man you kissed last night is still a Jedi with very real Jedi duties.

You offer a light smile, “I did.” Fingers curling just that much tighter around the weight of your cup, pausing before you continue, mulling over your words, “--we should do it again.”

Obi-wan’s eyebrows raise in amusement, a cheeky grin stretching across his lips. His hand finds his beard, sweeping over as a force of habit. “It, being celebrating New Year’s or--”

He doesn’t get far with his question as you cross over to him and then you’re doing it again. 

--

Months pass. Obi-wan finds himself frequenting the underworld so much that most of his time on-planet is spent by your side, when he’s not occupied with his Jedi duties.

This time is no different. You’ve closed up shop for the day, the sign outside dim as he approaches. He’s been gone for longer than he’d like, sent on a diplomatic mission on behalf of the Republic. When Obi-wan knocks on your door, it’s clear he’s run-down.

His shoulders are slumped when he crosses the threshold, into your arms. You feel him breathe deeply as his fingers gather the fabric at your waist, anchoring himself to you.

Wordlessly, he allows you to steer him, coming to rest at the foot of your bed. His hand never leaves yours. 

The air surrounding you is thick with concern as you sit beside him, unsure. You take the moment to give Obi-wan a once over, allowing yourself the sliver of what you had been missing since he had left. 

“Your hair’s gotten longer,” you speak, raising his palm to dust a warm kiss against his knuckles, “look how it hangs in your eyes.”

Obi-wan smiles, leaning more of his weight against your side. “Couldn’t find the time to get it trimmed,” he mumbles, words laced heavy with fatigue.

You click your tongue as you tuck the auburn hair behind his ear. “Don’t need to,” you hum, eyes scanning over the thick expanse of hair gathered at his collar, “it suits you.”

It really does. The way the curls cascade down the back of his head, coming to rest atop his shoulders, the same way as the day you met him, makes it difficult to imagine anything else in place of his long hair. 

He’s scolded you before for prodding him for a holo of himself with the padawan braid. 

“Do you want me to braid your hair?” You ask into the comfortable silence, voice gentle in case he’s fallen asleep against your shoulder. A Jedi skill, he tells you, to be able to rest wherever and whenever. 

For a moment, you even believe he is—that is, until he lifts off of you with a nod. Your hand leaves his as you move behind him with excitement.

You kneel behind him as he comes to rest against your front. Your hands drape atop his shoulders, smoothing over the fabric there.“You can sleep,” you lean down, murmuring close enough he can feel your lips ghosting his cheek in a grin. 

Obi-wan chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. “Not sleeping,” he corrects, “—meditating.”

As your fingers thread through his hair with practiced ease, you bite back a bemused snort. “Well, I’d hate to keep you from that, Jedi Master.”

Obi-wan sits obediently still as you deftly weave through the compliant strands. The pair of you sit in silence, quiet enough to hear your heartbeat even out with Obi-wan’s steady breathing. Stars, he has really nice hair. The envy is short lived, as you come to end the braid at his neck, admiring your handiwork. 

His usual untampered locks now sit neatly in a braid running down the back of his head, a stark contrast to usual. 

You don’t need to ask to know he’s long past being awake. Once more, craning over his shoulder, your lips brush against his face, bearded cheek tickling your skin. 

“Rise and shine,” you laugh as his eyes flutter open to meet yours. Bleary-eyed, he offers no protest when you pull at his shoulders, shedding him of his outer robes so that he falls back on the bed wrapped in your covers. 

Obi-wan goes out like a light. How could he not? If he hadn’t been so exhausted already the feeling of your hands against his scalp would’ve done the trick anyhow. 

When he sleeps, you let yourself admire him. With his hair finally out of his face, you get to admire him in his entirety. If you had tried at any other time, he’d chide you for staring, catching you before you had even started. 

Eyes shut, Obi-wan looks serene. The usually furrowed brows have relaxed now, making the man look years younger, or how he would look if he would stop working himself to the bone. For the Republic, he says.

Even now, in the relative safety (or whatever comes close in the underworld) of your home, he looks battle-ready. The realisation comes heavy as gravity—knowing this would always be Obi-wan’s normal. 

Yet, warmth runs through your chest at the fact that even so weary, Obi-wan chose to come to you. Neither had seen it coming-- the mechanic he’d met after crashing into their shop would become a source of comfort in such turmoil. 

Thank the Maker for crashed speeders.

--

You emerge from under what feels like the hundredth speeder of the day, grease smeared across your arms and sweat dotting your skin. You should really start charging more. Your droid whirs in delight, logging another successful transaction while you wipe off traces of work on a nearby grease rag. 

The sun, or what light reaches down there has dimmed, signalling the end of another day. A heavy sigh racks your chest and you catch sight of your reflection in the deteriorating mirror across the room.

You look like a day of work—stained overalls and burnt fingertips, but one part stays the same as it had when the work started. As your eyes drift over the braids pulling your hair back, everything that you had been trying to push back by throwing yourself into hours of work bubbles to the surface.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you avert your eyes.

--

He’s probably dead. You wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a pessimist, but that’s most likely the case, and it would do you more good to accept it than what you’re doing now; tuning out the news until the briefest mention of the Grand Army of the Republic, dropping everything for the smallest sliver of news, for hope.

Obi-wan hadn’t told you about the clones. It had come as a surprise to most, word spreading that the Republic finally had its own army. You remember watching the new Chancellor Palpatine on the holonews, a pit of unease simmering in your stomach as his words rang.

A clone army. 

You don’t see that everyday—or perhaps you will now.

It’s been near a full month of radio silence. If Obi-wan and his troops are alive, the news certainly doesn’t think so. There’s been no mention of any rescue mission from the Republic, which you believe to be rather telling. A clone army—expendable. Jedi, also expendable, apparently.

The best course of action would be business as usual. He has told you that this was his duty, that his loyalty would always lie with the Republic and his role as a Jedi. You understood, but certainly hadn’t expected that loyalty to lead him to his grave.

So, naturally, you close shop for the day. Your customers will survive. The sign on the outer wall remains dim all morning and the light outside doesn’t reach you, hidden away in your bed.

Again, Coruscant is fucking cold. There’s absolutely no rhyme or reason for it and just adds another point in your list of factors to leave the damned planet. No matter how many layers you huddle under, the cold manages to find you. 

Most traces of him are gone. The spice that clings to his robes and lingers in the air long after he’s gone has dissipated and you start to wonder if he had ever been here at all. 

The last thing you expect is to hear the rapping of knuckles against your front door. 

The second the first knock comes, your heart stops, the briefest glimmer of hope wrestling its way up. Barrelling towards the door, it slides open to reveal the man previously presumed dead.

For a moment, you don’t think it’s real. Obi-wan stands in the doorway, robes singed to hell and back, a nasty cut running along his temple and looking like he’s aged ten years, yet you recognise him in a heartbeat.

He hears your breath hitch in your throat when you freeze.  His expression is cautious, considering your reaction. He had found his way back to Coruscant all the way from Felucia, yet the distance separating you seems far too large.

“You cut your hair,” you finally say. Gone are the auburn curls that once brushed his collar which is now clipped short, baring his neck. Your shoulders slack before you’re pulling him in by the shoulders, sending him lurching into your chest. 

Obi-wan laughs at that, engulfing you in his arms. His grasp winds tight around you and you stand there for what feels like hours but not enough, and all you can think is he’s here.

Obi-wan pulls back, eyes finding yours with a fond smile. “I’ll just have to learn to do your hair now.” He leans in, placing a kiss to the crown of your hair. “You don’t look very well, love.”

“—because of me?”

You huff indignantly at that, pulling out of his hold, “yes, I do have you to thank for a solid month of worrying.” 

Obi-wan pauses, eyes flickering over your shoulder. You can tell he takes it to heart.

“Hey,” you murmur, lifting a palm to his cheek, “it would just really suck if you died, y’know?” 

He sighs, “I’m sorry I worried you. I tried to find a working commlink but—” He stills once more, shaking his head in defeat. You fill the silence. 

“But you were at war, Obi-wan. Commlinks can wait, I’m just happy you made it home in one piece. That’s all that matters.”

The man exhales once more but he concedes with a nod. Knowing he must feel like absolute bantha crap, you usher him to the worn sofa. He watches you flitter around the room, rummaging through cupboards and he can’t help but notice how normal this feels. 

Eventually, you bring him a steaming cup of caf, something that seems to flow endlessly in your home and perch beside him on the armrest. The pair of you settle into a comfortable silence. As you lace your fingers between his, you can feel him formulating his thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” You hum, tapping his wrist. Obi-wan is still, before he whips his head towards you. 

“If you asked… I’d stay.” Obi-wan blurts.

The words make you gape and you’re speechless for a good amount of time. He watches you intently, serious as ever. 

“Obi-wan,” you begin slowly, “you know I’d never ask that of you.”

“I know that,” he responds firmly, “I also know the Jedi way forbids attachment, that I’d have to let you go. Yet, on Felucia, I wasn’t fighting for the Republic. When we were surrounded by the Separatist droids, I was trying to get back to you.”

Your heart is thudding in your chest, pounding against your ribcage with such ferocity you wonder if even he can hear it. You don’t know what to say. 

He leans closer earnestly as his grip on your hand tightens. “I can’t promise things won’t always be this way, but I will always find my way back to you.”

Words have never been your strong suit, this much is certain so you close the gap between you instead, hoping that your lips on his can convey all the emotions cresting from his promise. 

When you pull away, it’s because he wipes a tear that escapes down your cheek. “I just hope I’m not the reason you’ll turn to the dark side,” you say with a soft laugh. 

Obi-wan nudges your cheek bemusedly, “it’s more likely than you think.”

Bathed in the colourful lights seeping through the blinds, you savour the peace. The morning seems a little brighter and tucked into Obi-wan’s side, Coruscant doesn’t seem so cold anymore.

[oswildin]

Figment of the Mind ~ Dhawan!Master x Reader

Request: I've a request. An Oc artist who recently came out of the asylum because she heard since childhood voices/screaming/singing and who meet/ or Tavel with the master!dhawan. Both of them care about eachother (without saying it directly), and the of is ginger. (There's never enough gingers) 😁🦊 ( @alviazeginger )

Warnings: Mental Illness, Maybe some triggers for people.

Mad they called you. Crazy. Psychotic. Eventually their words broke you down, leaving you numb and helpless. Why were people so cruel? You never asked for any of this. You never asked to be dosed up on medication, or asked for the voices to take over your mind... But that was reality. Harsh. Cruel.

It started in school, as you began to hear the echoes of voices in your mind. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could hear them nonetheless. You had a wild imagination everyone told you. You sometimes could see people around you who you didn’t know weren’t actually there. Of course, that didn’t bode well with the other students. They labelled you as the weird one.

Through your teenage years, you managed to keep it hidden. After transferring schools, you tried to start fresh. But it was hard. It was hard to try and silence the noise in your head. It was plaguing your childhood.

Now as a young adult, you were being released from an asylum. You were dosed up on medications they’d forced you to take, and told you to keep going with them to help you drown out the voices. It helped. You admitted. But after having most of your life experiencing the voices, it felt almost empty without them.

You returned to your flat, dumping your little belonging onto the floor as you entered. You were exhausted. You felt weird being out in the world again. But inside your flat, you felt safe, like you could be yourself. You wondered into the kitchen as you began to watch the kettle boil. Suddenly, you were brought back to reality as you heard a strange noise coming from outside. You furrowed your brows, peering out the window to try and find the source of the noise.

Just as you peered out, you saw... A house appear? Out of no where... You felt panic rise, beginning to worry about whether you had remembered to take your pills. You continued to watch in confusion as a man appeared out of the house. You took in his appearance. You didn’t recognise him. Not one bit. He definitely wasn’t one of the people in your head. Was he?

The Master took in his surroundings as he glared. Earth. His TARDIS seemed to love messing with him. Perhaps he deserved it. He wasn’t the nicest to her. He felt a sensation of being watched as he tried to home in on it, feeling eyes watching from afar. He followed his senses, finally coming across a building of flats. He peered upwards, looking in each window before his eyes settled upon you.

You gasped, jumping back from the window, closing the blinds as you stepped away. You quickly rushed for your bag, rummaging through it as you searched for your tablets. Finally you found the packet, revealing you had in fact taken them. Was he real? No. Don’t be stupid. He couldn’t be. The house came out of thin air... Right? Thinking of it, you didn’t remember a house ever being there...

Suddenly, a knock was heard at the door. You jumped, dropping your tablets as you looked at the door in fear. Were the tablets not working? Was leaving the asylum wrong? You slowly stood up straight, hearing the knock again. Four knocks. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you walked towards the door, your hand shaking as it gripped the handle. You slowly pulled it down, as you awaited what was on the other side of the door.

Upon opening the door, it revealed the same man you had seen minutes ago. He stood with a smug look on his face as he held onto the lapels of his jacket.

“Liked what you saw did you?” He almost purred as you felt your breath hitch, trying to find words, but your mouth stayed agape. “Speechless? I know. I am devilishly handsome, I admit.” He seemed to smirk, before taking a step forwards as you backed up. “Well?” He waited for anything. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re not real.” You told him, shaking your head. “You’re in my head.” You narrowed your eyes. The Master looked lost as you spoke.

“What are you wittering on about?” He asked exasperated, folding his arms as he raised a brow.

“You! You’re a figment of my imagination! Not even that, cause I definitely am not trying to imagine you.” You rambled, moving a hand to your forehead. “They told me the meds would work.” You muttered, turning away from him as you frantically searched for your pills once more. The Master pulled a face before furrowing his brows.

“You’ve lost me. And it’s not often I say that.” He admitted as he watched your panicked state. “What are you doing now?!” He asked, annoyed.

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, going to cover your ears. The Master seemed taken back by your sudden outburst. “Shut up! Go away!” He knelt down beside you, staring at you, calculating... Analysing you.

“I’m only here cause you looked at me through your window.” He commented. “Why do you think I’m not real?” He inquired, genuinely curious.

“Because I know my mind, and I know how it likes to play tricks.” You told him sternly. “No matter what I do. The voices always come back.” You said sadly, defeated. He finally seemed to understand what you were talking about as he looked down beside him, seeing the tablet packet on the floor. He picked it up, examining it, before offering it out to you.

“If it’s any consolation, I know how you feel.” He said quietly. You furrowed your brows, seeing the packet in his hand as you looked over at him. “Come on, Mad Mary.” He slowly stood up, straightening his jacket as he towered over you. “I’ve got something to show you.”

You didn’t know why you followed him. You didn’t even try to stop yourself. It was like you were entranced. He guided you to the house you saw him appear from, as he opened the front door, stepping aside.

“Go on.” He almost ordered as you peered at him in confusion.

“Why would I go into a house with a stranger?” You asked, scoffing slightly. “A house that definitely wasn’t there before.” He rolled his eyes.

“Because you’re curious.” He told you as a matter of fact. “You want to know if this is real... Well... What better way than to see something remarkable for yourself?” You paused, thinking it over. You bit your lip, knowing you would probably instantly regret your decision. Glancing at him once more, you stepped into the house, through the small porch as you came across another door. You glanced back at him, as he stayed outside the house, nodding his head at you to continue. You sighed, bracing yourself, before opening the new door. What you were about to see, was something you could never have imagined...

In front of you was a red-lit room. At first glance, it appeared like a normal living area, but upon closer inspection, there was a different element to the room. There was almost a small control deck in the centre of it. You furrowed your brows, stepping inside.

“It’s called a TARDIS.” You jumped at the sound of the Master’s voice behind you. “It’s a space ship. It travels in space and time...” He told you, pushing past you as he walked up towards the console. “And yes. It’s alien.”

“What? How? How is this possible?” You questioned, looking at the room.

“It just is!” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Now do you believe me? I am real.” You walked towards him, as you looked him up and down. You swallowed the lump in your throat before hesitantly reaching out a hand. He stayed still, face emotionless. You slowly placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat... No wait... Hearts beat? You flinched, pulling your hand away. None of your visions had ever been touchable before, let alone have a heart beat. Or two.

“You are real.” You breathed out, your voice wavering slightly. “Oh my god.” You stepped back.

“Not quite.” He teased, winking at you as he twirled around dramatically to face the console. “Now! It’s rare that I do this. In fact! It never happens!” He exclaimed, a slight smile on his lips. “But... I think you and me... Are almost alike. And I say that very loosely, as of course, you are human.” He almost said with a distaste. “How do you fancy a trip?” You looked confused, stuttering before speaking.

“A trip? Where?” You asked.

“Anywhere! The universe is the limit!” He had his arms behind his back.

“Why?” You raised a brow. “Why me?”

“I just told you.” He said irritated. “Plus, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have a companion.”

“A companion?!” You exclaimed, looking taken back. “I am not going to be your companion! Is that why you brought me in here? Ugh, men! All the same!” You pulled a disgusted face as he sighed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He told you. “Honestly. Humans. Not everything is about that.” He paused. “Now, coming or not, Red?”

And so it began. Your one trip turned into several. Of course, you had to return home to get your belongings and medication. You couldn’t go without that. You couldn’t let him see you that way. Over time, you began to enjoy each others madness. The Master was unhinged, unpredictable... Exciting. You couldn’t help but fall straight into the swing of things. The lifestyle was almost perfect. It kept your mind busy. You even began to harbour feelings towards the alien. Little did you know, he was fond of you also. As annoying and human you were, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by you.

However, your hectic lifestyle often led to not knowing what day it was, or time even. You hadn’t noticed it had been almost 2 days, before you began to feel slightly unwell. You just put it down to exhaustion. However, soon you heard a familiar voice you hadn’t heard in a long time. You didn’t tell the Master, keeping it to yourself. You quickly went to take your meds, but realised you had no more left. Had it really been a whole month?

You felt panic begin to rise. So you did the only thing you knew how to do. Lock yourself away. You stayed in your room, not going outside as you didn’t want the Master to see you like this. You tried to ignore the voice, but it didn’t like that. You covered your ears, tried to sleep through it all, but nothing worked.

The Master noticed something was wrong. You hadn’t come out of your room for a whole day. He wondered if he had done something to upset you. He knocked on your door.

“(Y/N)?” He called, before hearing muffled whispers from inside. He narrowed his eyes, trying to listen in as he heard you mumble ‘stop’ over and over. Then he realised. Your meds. He bit his lip before opening the door slowly, not waiting for your permission. What he saw broke his hearts.

You were curled up on your bed, hands over your ears as he saw tear tracks on your cheeks. He quickly made his way to your side, bringing your hands away from your ears as you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Go away!” You cried. “I don’t want you here!” You told him. He sighed, ignoring your pleas as you sat up, staring at him with wide eyes. He could see the exhaustion on your face. “Shut up!” You exclaimed, feeling the pressure in your mind building. The Master had seen enough, wanting your hurting to stop. He carefully reached out, gently placing his fingers on your temple as you closed your eyes, passing out. He quickly caught you, holding you for a moment before laying you back down on the bed, allowing you the rest you desperately needed.

You opened your eyes, not knowing how long you had been asleep as you saw your bedside table in front of you. You furrowed your brows as you saw a glass of water and your tablets on the side. Didn’t you run out? What happened? You didn’t hesitate as you ensured you took the pills, feeling relief fill your body as you knew soon the voices would stop.

A few hours later, you finally came out of your room, the door creaking as you poked your head out, seeing the Master sat in his armchair, reading a book as he glanced up, giving you a look.

“I was gonna send a search party.” He told you. “Thought you’d gone AWOL. Fallen into a supernova.” He muttered as he flipped a page. You furrowed your brows, folding your arms over your chest as you slowly walked towards him.

“I remember, you know.” You told him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see that.” You said quietly, ashamed. He looked up from his book once again.

“Don’t apologise.” He told you sternly. “Don’t ever apologise for that.” He closed the book, standing up from his seat. “Shame you... That’s one thing I will never do.” He told you gently, as you felt your heart skip a beat at his words. No one had ever been so kind. How could a man, full of rage, hatred and bitterness say such kind things? Although, it shouldn’t surprise you. Everyone had their reasons for being the way they were. You of all people knew that. You didn’t know what to say as you stayed silent.

“Now you’re all rested up! How about a trip?” He said, his mood changing as he rushed towards the console. “You can choose. Where do you want to go, Red?” You smiled slightly at the nickname he had given you.

At that moment, you didn’t feel ashamed, or guilty or alone.

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [30] - {ShikaTema AU}

It’s been a while. Exams are vile and get in the way, but I’m back now!!

I hope you enjoy :)

[READ/COMMENT ON AO3]

CHAPTER THIRTY

“You okay, Temari?”

She turned to her brother sharply and nodded. The road seemed to be going on forever, and after sitting in the passenger seat of the van for nearly four hours Temari was ready to jump out. She was grateful that, after talking some things through with Baki, Kankuro was perkier and humming along to the radio as he drove, but that didn’t ease her anxiousness to get home. Every sign she saw counted down the distance, but it never seemed to move fast enough for her racing mind.

The useless phone in her pocket seemed to jab at her with every fidgety movement she made. It hurt how much she longed to hear it ring and that weary voice breathe life into the device once more after over two days, and she kept getting lost in her visions of such impossibilities. 

“Sorry,” said Kankuro, a subtle crack in his voice. “I know how much you hate visiting Mum.”

Temari shrugged. “It’s not that I hate it, the place just holds too much hate for me, and that’s not your fault—it’s his,” she sighed, letting her eyes flicker down to her restless fingertips. “And, besides, it’s nice visiting Baki.”

“His advice is always good.”

“It is.”

The radio lingered in the background, and a familiar song suddenly started spilling from the speakers. Temari bit down on her lip as she recognised it as one which had been playing in Shikamaru’s car on Saturday, and felt her heart leap a little as the man’s voice sounded. Kankuro leaned over to adjust the channel, disgruntled, but she smacked his hand away to turn it up. “Why are you so miserable all of a sudden?” Temari crossed her arms as a chill crept in through the air vents. “Are you still het up about Suki?”

“I just don’t know why I flip out like I do with girls,” he mumbled, his eyes flicking toward her cautiously, “and I don’t need you to analyse me to tell me it’s about Mum being gone, but—”

“It’s fine.” She smiled and elbowed him gently. “You only had me to help you understand women growing up, and I’m not sure most women are like me.”

Kankuro let out a faint chuckle. “Well, Gaara turned out fine with that.”

“Gaara’s never been cheated on—it’s completely different.”

“I don’t want to sound like a wimp, Temari, but it’s every single time,” he grumbled. “Do I treat girls badly? Am I that much like Dad?”

“You’re nothing like Dad, Kankuro.”

He laughed in a somewhat maniacal fashion, and Temari didn’t like it. “But I am. You’ve said it yourself.”

“Yeah, well I can be a bitch, can’t I?” She waiting for a calmer expression to settle on her brothers face. “Look, we can drive back and forth to Suna to visit Mum’s grave or talk to Baki, but you’re the one who’s got to put their foot down and say you’re not going to take it anymore.” Temari let out a chuckle. “And I can pick apart all the differences between you and Dad psychologically to make you feel better all you want, but the fact still remains that Dad did love Mum. He might even have loved us.”

“I don’t care if he did or didn’t love us, Tem. I just want to stop scaring people off.”

There was something so pitiful in his voice—a sadness Temari hadn’t heard in many years. She had to admit this had become routine with him and women, and the only one who hadn’t been turned off by Kankuro’s intense attempts at romance had become the source of much laughter for the other siblings. The way Temari saw it, other than crazy poem lady, women saw Kankuro as shallow and so most treated him that way in return. It was cruel, but she could understand their reasoning, and when they didn’t follow that path for whatever reason, she’d watch her brother fumble about with clichés to a point where Temari could barely listen to the poor wretch.

Right now, watching his glazed eyes stare ahead at the highway, she wished a slap on the back could solve everything for her. It was more than just a little frustrating of him to sit there, clearly fishing for relationship advice, after all he’d said to her the last few weeks. But, just as always, Temari found it difficult not to voice her opinion.

If he wants help, she thought, I’m not sugar coating it.

Temari threw her head back onto the chair with a sigh. “Well, for starters, stop trying to be extravagant. Not everyone likes that.”

“Do you?”

“Nope, I despise it.”

“But what about that bloke who wrote you a song?”

“Why do you think I dumped him, Kankuro?”

He smiled, properly this time, and Temari felt something settle in her chest. “I can’t speak for all women, but I just like knowing someone will back me up if I need them to.”

“Well, I can do that.”

Temari screwed her nose up. “Maybe, but you don’t listen. Listening is the important bit.”

Although he didn’t seem to understand her, her brother nodded along. “I’ll always back you up, Temari, you can count on me. If our roles were reversed and you’d been cheated on I would’ve punched someone by now—I’m surprised you didn’t.”

She tried not to ball her fists, each word he said growing less meaningful. “Thankfully I have some level of self control.”

“And you’re too smart to find yourself in my shoes,” he chuckled. “Or at least you used to be.”

Her head turned slowly. “Meaning?”

Kankuro said nothing, simply snorted and shrugged without even glancing her way, and she didn’t need more than a second to understand what he meant.

“So it’s like that, is it?” she spat. “Go on, then: explain it to me.”

“What?” He sounded defensive, and it riled her up beyond belief. As if he had the right to act dumbfounded. “Explain what?”

“You know what, moron: Shikamaru,” she growled. Her stomach twisted into knots as the radio continued to play that song, almost as if it was rooting for her. “What exactly is your problem with him?”

“I don’t have—”

“Don’t lie to me. Spit it out.”

Kankuro “Tem, you know…he’s y—”

“Don’t give me the ‘he’s your patient’ bullshit.” She imitated him with her go-to mimic of sassy quote marks and narrow eyes. Temari thought he might’ve laughed if not for the menacing stare that accompanied it. “He isn’t, and he won’t ever be again.”

“You worked, Tem. You can’t let that go to waste.”

“Now you sound like Dad. Is that really what you want?”

Her brother shot her a maddened glance as he pulled off the highway, and she could see the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Immediately she knew she’d struck a nerve, but after all the harsh words he’d dealt her on the topic in the past, Temari found it near on impossible to feel sorry for the man. She wanted to—she really did—and she knew the connotations of what she had said, but since that chess board had been shelved two weeks ago logic felt almost meaningless.

Temari found herself driven more by emotion every day thanks to Shikamaru’s obscure place in her life; he slotted in perfectly to this puzzle she’d build for herself without even meaning to, and while that scared her to death it also filled her with this sense of self she’d never quite felt before. These past few weeks, as mind-bendingly frustrating as they had been at times, cemented the fact she was allowed to be angry just as much as Kankuro was. More than that she was allowed to feel happy, however that feeling came about, just as Shikamaru was. 

Proudly, Temari looked back at the road and crossed her arms tight across her chest. “I thought as much,” she gloated to herself quietly as she twisted the volume knob of the radio up slightly, but Kankuro’s arm snapped out, instantly turning it right down.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you, okay?” he said, desperate annoyance lingering on his tongue. “I don’t want anyone to hurt my sister while I can help it.”

“Your sister can think for herself, and fend for herself.” Temari shook her head, staring out the window. “It’s honestly offensive how incapable you think I am, Kankuro. Do you realise that?”

“I know you can fend for yourself, but you aren’t—”

“I am capable of doing all the things I need to be able to do without your help,” she snarled. “I didn’t have to come with you. I could’ve let you go alone, or even have taken a leaf out of your book and forbid you to go where you wanted.”

“You couldn’t do that.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

They pulled up to a traffic light and the pair jolted from the aggressive breaking.

Temari’s head turned, the tip of her nose twitching. “That’s the difference between us, Kankuro,” she said bluntly. “I care about you, and that’s why I let you make mistakes and learn from them. I can’t count the number of times I could’ve thrown out your girlfriend because I thought she’d hurt you, and she did. Being loving—caring for each other—it isn’t about control!”

Kankuro slouched, checking his mirrors. “You don’t have to tell me that—I’m not Dad!”

“Could’ve fucking fooled me!”

He moved off with a start and turned the radio up sharply. Suddenly Phil Collins voice didn’t feel empowering, it ground against her brain until all she heard was static. There wasn’t even an ounce of her that felt bad anymore, she was sick of being treated like a child by such an immature moron, but she couldn’t help noticing that raising her voice of the radio was just angering her more than it was changing his mind.

Kankuro wasn’t going to listen more just because she shouted, he’d just shout back—childhood screaming matches had taught her enough about such things. She had to try a different approach if she wanted to get out of this car with her vocal chords still in tact.

“Look,” she sighed, anger still apparent in her new, somewhat softer tone, “I get that you want me to be safe, but—”

“And not get fired.” Kankuro didn’t move his eyes, just grumbled.

“But this, all of this, just isn’t fair, Kankuro.” She spun in her seat, facing him. “Can you really not see that I won’t get sacked? That it’s just some stupid excuse you’ve zoned in on?”

He huffed despairingly, finally turning off the radio entirely. “But you worked, Tem,” he said, “Too hard—to just throw everything out over the first lost puppy you fancy.”

Her cheeks grew hot. “Lost puppy—can you even hear yourself, you absolute twat!” Who was she kidding? That softness in her voice hadn’t been built to last.

“You’ve got inside his head, you know you have—you always do!” Kankuro scoffed. “This is what always happens with you and guys. You get in their heads, whether you mean to or not.”

“You’ve never mentioned that before,” she spat. “Why is it suddenly a problem now?”

“Because you’re letting him in your head, Tem. You’re practically wearing a kick me sign constantly.”

“Why does everything have to be an argument with you?”

“With you, you mean.”

“Oh, you’re proper mature, aren’t you, Kankuro?”

“If you keep leading him on, Tem, he will end up hurting you.”

Temari almost tore off her seat belt and threw herself out onto the pavement. Her mind was racing so much faster than her body could move, and by the time he’d shaken his head she was one wrong word away from punching him square in the face. She’d tried being calm, however weak an attempt it was, and she’d tried to understand his stupid reasoning. Temari wasn’t sure what more she was supposed to do. There was no way she could feasibly sit here and take in another lie from him without hitting him. She knew she had to  ignore him in order to go in for the kill, and she needed to do so calmly.

Slowly but surely, Temari adjusted her position in the seat and took a deep, calming breath. She could see his eyes change beside her as a wave of terror overtook him; this was what she always did when she was past the point of no return. “Kankuro,” she tried slowly, “for one minute can you just stop spouting mindless drivel and shut up? You don’t know him—and what you do know of him is frankly harmless.” Temari balled her fists, ready for the next wave of excuses, and hid them underneath her thighs as though to restrain herself. “Besides, even if he, or anybody else, fucked with me and hurt me, I’m perfectly capable of punching them myself, thank you very much.”

Kankuro bit down on his lip. A distressed expression was quickly weaving its way between the angry lines around his eyes. “Tem—”

“No. Don’t ‘Tem’ me. You don’t have to do this—any of this. It’s not some brotherly requirement. Gaara doesn’t do it—he never would.”

“Temari, listen—”

“No, you listen to me for once, alright? You just fucking listen!” When turned to her, he seemed surprised to see she was holding back tears. It wasn’t something he was used to seeing, but she couldn’t quite comprehend how he thought she wouldn’t be upset by his words. Her snapping, breaking the facade of being collected, was impossible to stop, and as embarrassed as she now was by the wetness around her eyes she refused to wipe it away. “More than that, I don’t want you to do this,” she added, her voice cracking slightly. “I want you to let me live my life and you just live your own.”

He was perturbed now, no doubt, but it just wasn’t enough. She could see it, and she was ready to interrupt the moment he opened his mouth. “But he’s—”

“He’s what?”

“Damaged…”

Temari threw her weight back in the chair and laughed. “Oh, fuck you…”

“What?” Kankuro shifted awkwardly in his seat. He was clearly afraid of her now, and she didn’t care. She just kept on laughing, the tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Damaged?” She shook her head in amazement at his sheer idiocy. “Take a second to remember that Gaara is also ‘damaged’ as you like to say,” she snarled. "Does that mean the guy he went out with on Saturday should run? Run away from our little, damaged brother before it’s too late to turn back?”

Something was changing in his eyes as he smashed down the indicator, turning left and zooming past the pub. Thank god they were almost home—she couldn’t wait to escape this stupid van and ignore the bastard for another week.

“Of course not,” he said calmly.

Victory was in sight.

“Exactly,” Temari agreed. “So why is it any different for Shikamaru? Why is he not allowed to find love?”

She saw his ears perk up and his eyes flash to look at her. Shit.

“Love?”

Temari had to admit it: the tone was convincing enough that she’d even pondered the word herself for a moment too long. She gulped, rolling her eyes, and decided he didn’t deserve an answer.

“I’m sorry.” The voice was feeble, almost shaky. It took Temari right back to her childhood, and she vividly remembered the moments after he’d spilled apple juice all over her GameBoy. Her blood started to boil at the memory, but she forced her attention back to the present with great effort to see Kankuro chewing nervously on his lip. “You’re right,” he admitted. “It’s not my job to control your life.”

“No,” she repeated. “It isn’t.”

“I’m sorry for pissing you off, and for yelling at you.”

There was a beat as he pulled to the side of the road, smiling at her hopefully until she wiped her eyes and forced one in return. 

“Well, I’m not sorry for yelling at you at all,” she sighed as the van ground to a halt. “Your whole argument is built on hypocrisy and…bullshit.”

Kankuro reached over, avoiding her eyes, and gave her hand a quick squeeze as he hopped out of the car. Once the frustration settled slightly and her shoulders softened, Temari followed suit with a smile that felt a lot more real. Even if it was impossible to tell how much, she had achieved something from this.

“So, explain,” her brother started, mimicking the bitter tone which she had begun the fiasco, “what exactly is so good about this boyfriend of yours?”

“He isn’t my boyfriend.”

He started laughing as he hauled their bags out the back of the van. “Oh, honestly—the nerve you’ve got.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I just mean, after ten solid minutes or more of yelling I’d almost rather he was, you know? It’d be worth the bullshit.”

Temari felt herself blush as she pushed the van doors shut. “So, you don’t mind if I see him again?”

“Oh,” he laughed, “I really fucking mind.”

“Kankuro…” Her low voice came as a warning, but she wasn’t sure she had the patience to go through it all again.

He shrugged. “Just hate the idea of someone shagging my sister. It’s gross.”

Temari, holding back a smirk she was desperate not to show, whacked him in the knees with her holdall and laughed as he wobbled. “You’re gross, but I guess I get that.”

“You know you can’t make me like him?”

She nodded and backed away towards the front door. “I know, and I don’t need you to,” she smiled. “But I do need you to stop being a nutcase about him.”

“Nutcase?”

“No more creepy texts to Gaara, and no more confronting him at work.”

Kankuro held back a laugh, pursing his lips. She didn’t like that look. It was playful, yes, but he looked like a child ready to jump on the sandcastle she’d just spent hours perfecting—not that such a memory still angered her to this day or anything.

“Say you won’t do it, Kankuro.”

“Fine,” he laughed, throwing a set keys for her to catch. “I won’t do it.”

“You swear?”

There was a tut and a telling eye roll before he nodded. “I promise.”

~~~

Torso wrapped tightly in a towel, Temari hurried back into her bedroom still high on the steam of the bathroom. The feeling of warm water on her skin had felt impossibly good after hours sat stiffly in the van; her body felt wonderfully relaxed. Her mind, however, was still racing.

Her eyes darted to the screen of her charging phone as it lit up. Unable to wait she threw her damp hair up and pulled the first jumper she reached over her head. As it settled on her shoulders she noticed the faintest hint of Shikamaru’s minty shampoo and a warm feeling started to grow in her abdomen, but she didn’t let it slow her down for more than a second. Temari hopped over to her desk, half dressed and took the phone in her hand. Fifty-percent charged—that was enough for now.

She tore the cable from it and fell back onto her bed, tapping in four digits to unlock the world she’d longed for these last few days.

4 missed calls

2 voicemails

It felt like Christmas all over again when she read the name.

Temari had never clicked on something so fast. She pressed the phone against her ear, grinning proudly.  

“Tem, um, hi…”

A shiver flew down her spine.

Shikamaru cleared his throat quickly. “I’m, um, just checking in ‘cause you said you’d call and, well, um…you haven’t.” She heard a heavy sigh. “I, um, I just wanted to say sorry I didn’t stick around when your brother turned up. I hope whatever happened isn’t that much of a disaster that you won’t call.” The cough sounded again, and she realised that his voice was almost a whisper. Not just that, he sounded impossibly sad—nervous with all of his stutters and mumbles. Whenever she had come face to face with this man’s sadness before, it had been laced with the same deadpan tone he held ninety-percent of the time he spoke. “Please,” he mumbled, his monotone voice clearly worried. “Call me.”

She tore the phone from her ear and immediately tapped the second message, bracing her chest to hear the same pitiful voice echoing down the line. But it didn’t come. 

“Right, hello,” said a voice so confidently bright she almost didn’t recognise it. “He won’t admit to it but he really misses you—he refuses to talk about you when I ask. Right now he’s out smoking but the idiot’s left his phone in here as if I’m not going to ring you, and he knows I know his password is password—and so do you now, shit.”

There was a spritely laugh and a sweet snort. It was Choji, no doubt about it.

“I hear that you’re busy and can’t reach him, but if there’s some chance you get this, please call him.”

Something Temari could only pin as sickening worry shot through her.

“He’s fine,” he added, “don’t worry or anything when you hear this.”

Too late, she wished she could say, already trying to steady herself.

“But just give him a shout, yeah? He won’t admit it, but it’s pretty much all he wants.” There was a soft chuckle and what sounded like non-committal shouting in the background. She chuckled. Choji had been rumbled. “Okay, cheers—see you soon, Ma—bye! Look, Shikamaru, mine died and I had to ring Ma about dinner and—”

The line went dead and Temari found herself giggling. She was glad to have had her life touched by such kind people. Shikamaru stole the limelight, but knowing one of those people was Choji—one of the nicest men she’d had the pleasure of meeting—made her excited at the thought of meeting the rest of his circle.

Temari blinked harshly and shook her head and almost started laughing at herself. He hadn’t even introduced her to his other friend—to Ino—and there was still some nagging part in her brain wondering why. Sudden and unwarranted waves of jealousy still plagued her now and again. After all, what if Kankuro was right? What if there was something there—some unspoken history he’d never admit to?

“Oh, get over yourself, girl,” she told herself sharply. “When is Kankuro ever right?”

Grumbling, she let her eyes drift back down to her phone and scrolled through the messages that had been sent. Most of them read the same, a simple ‘hi’ and nothing more, but the very last two changed. Temari bit down on her lip to stop herself grinning like an idiot as her frustrations subsided, replaced only with excitement.

(13:18) Shikamaru: Hi. Gaara told me where you are, so ignore all my pointless messages.

(13:32) Shikamaru: It’s weird not hearing your voice. Let me know when you’re home safe, yeah? x

Never in her life had Temari been happier to see the letter ‘x’.

—> I’m home x

She dropped the phone on her bed beside her and reached for a pair of leggings. They were barely over her thighs by the time her phone buzzed, and her head shot around.

(22:46) Shikamaru: Good x

Unable to contain her excitement, Temari’s thumb was already hovering over the call button at the top of the screen when it buzzed a second time. 

(22:46) Shikamaru: I’m outside x

She retracted her thumb, checked her doorway was empty of siblings, and quickly tapped out a response as she sprinted downstairs to look out of the front window. She could see the shadow of a ponytail as he stepped into the spotlight of a streetlamp, and watched him point up to her front door.

—> You can’t come in x

(22:47) Shikamaru: Kankuro’s in then x

—>I spoke to him and he might not deck you anymore but dont wanna push it x

The little laugh she watched him let out was beautiful. Temari didn’t realise how much she’d missed the little shudder of his shoulders until it was right before her, and she couldn’t hold herself back from pressing call on her phone. The moment the phone hit her ear he had answered and she bit down on her bottom lip, stopping herself from pressing herself against the window as if that would somehow close the distance between them.

It felt pathetic, but Temari didn’t care.

She smirked at the clearing of his throat, aware he couldn’t see her. “Have you been following me?”

“Nah,” he laughed. “You’re such a pain to keep track of, though, you know that?”

“Well, you found me.”

Shikamaru shook his head. “Bad luck on my part,” he sneered. “I saw the van go past while I was having a ciggie outside the pub. Choji probably hasn’t even noticed I’ve abandoned him for you yet.”

Temari snorted and immediately blushed, grateful for the distance between them as he chuckled to himself. “Ah, so the man has drink in him?”

“Oh, yeah—I’m all orange-juiced up,” he nodded.

“Did Choji give you an extra straw yet?”

“Of course he didn’t.”

She laughed, pressing her fingertips against the windowpane. “I missed you,” she whispered gently down the line, half expecting to see him outwardly cringe, but instead she saw him simply take a puff of cigarette. It was almost disappointing. 

“I’m sure you did,” he tutted, “you’re obsessed with me.”

Temari let herself sit on her windowsill and leaned against the window as she’d longed to do from the moment she saw him, opening the window a crack. The night wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been before she left for her godfather’s, and there was a subtle warmth drifting through the February air. She heard the echo as he cleared his throat bounced around the terraced houses as well as down the phone line, and didn’t bother holding back her grin. She really had missed him. But she couldn’t say that again. It would be weird. Yes, by now they were good friends—it was fine for friends to miss each other, but it wasn’t fine for her to still be thinking back to last week and the way he’d stormed into her office. The way he’d grabbed her waist and kissed her—kissed every part of her—wasn’t an acceptable train of thought to have every time she saw caught sight of him.

“So,” she started, desperate to derail the ideas racing in her mind, “have you met Chojuro yet?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied sharply.

Temari nodded. “He’s good. He’ll help you.”

“So I hear.” It was clear to see him stiffen up at the thought of it. Shikamaru began kicking the leaves at his feet, his shoulders hunched that slightest bit more than before. Temari couldn’t help wondering if he felt what she did; that this was the end somehow. “I won’t mention you.”

“I don’t mind,” she told him with a giggle, hoping a happy tone of voice might loosen those burdened shoulder. If only she could sprint down right now and hug him until she felt that stiffness fade away. “But if you do, call me something else don’t I don’t lose my job, okay?”

Shikamaru shrugged and dropped his cigarette, squishing it. “Fine. I’ll call you Tara.”

“Don’t like it.”

“Tori then.”

“Worse.”

“Tori it is.”

The moment she’d said it, Temari regretted it. It wasn’t even far enough from her name for a man like Chojuro not to pick up on what lay behind it, but she suspected that this was nothing more than a wind up. Shikamaru wasn’t stupid—she new it for a fact, as much as she questioned it in every day moments. If driving her mad and irritating her in jest was going to put a spring in his step, as it seemed to do, she wasn’t ever going to let him stop. Now the shit-eating grin across his lips was so clear it stood out in the darkness, and Temari couldn’t help the smug feeling that swarmed her.

She’d done that, put that smile on his face, and nothing had ever felt quite like this. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d even been this proud when she’d received her degree. Why was she so pleased with herself for making a man smile that she couldn’t keep her own excitement at bay? Watching those perfectly broad shoulders jitter with another chuckle, Temari made the executive decision to ask Gaara once she went up to bed.

Look at you, Temari, she cursed, a therapist having to ask her little brother what her feelings mean…

She looked up at the stars above them, shining brighter than they had even back in her hometown last night, and her heart swelled as she heard Shikamaru’s laugh bounce around the houses once again. “What?” she asked. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing’s funny,” he told her, “I’m just happy.”

It was nearly impossible not to jump out the window and run to him.

A small smile spread across her lips. She’d repeated to everyone that he wasn’t her patient anymore for what felt like forever, and she’d known from the start that the most difficult person to convince of that would be herself. But, as she watched him raise a new cigarette to his lips, Temari instantly noticed the change in her approach to him, and she realised it wasn’t difficult at all.

Since she had met Shikamaru, Temari had been determined to fix him—that is what her job had been, after all, and he had asked her to do it. But now all she needed was to see that smile. She didn’t care who put it there, or uncrossed all the wires that might’ve been jumbled in his mind. As of now, that wasn’t her responsibility, even if she wanted it to be. Her responsibility was to be a friend for him to fall back on when he needed her; to be someone to rely on for encouragement, or a laugh when things seemed dark again. She was never going to stop wanting him to be better, or stop wanting to rid him of the troubles he carried in his mind, but Temari realised now that it had never really been her job to do that.

Shikamaru had entered her office that day for one reason, and she knew she had failed to provide him with what he really needed from the start. It was clear to Temari now that whether she succeeded or failed in the past really mattered—she wasn’t the person who was supposed to do this. He had stepped into that office and in doing so he had gained a friend; that’s all she needed to be for him now.

Maybe, one day, he would want more from her than just a helping hand. With all her might she longed to care for him in a way that wasn’t ruled by science and logic. She wanted to hear about the intricacies of his feelings and take them in, hold him if he cried just so he knew someone was there; no words or analysis required or wanted. There was something perfect to her about comfort without reason or explanation, just because she could and because she wanted to.

But what Temari wanted, in reality, faded into nothing with perspective. All she could think of that mattered in this very moment was him, right there, staring up at with a smile.

“I should get back to Choji.”

The warm feeling that had spread through her chest was momentarily accompanied by a jab in the gut. This was it. “Oh, right,” she mumbled. “Okay, then.”

Every hitch in her breath said it clearly wasn’t, and even Shikamaru wasn’t far enough away to ignore the sudden change in her posture. “I can stay on the phone if you want,” he offered.

“I’m a big girl I don’t need you to do that,” she scoffed, stubborn as ever. As if she’d ever admit she did, in fact, want to hear him talk longer—forever in fact. She knew the change was coming, she wanted it, but that didn’t mean she was reader for him to leave tonight.

“But you missed me.” He started walking away backwards, only a few steps, but he seemed a world away. “Wouldn’t want to deny you more of my voice?”

“Well, the voice I can live without.”

There was a pause and an awkward cough from his end of the phone.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Shikamaru.”

I definitely did.

“Temari, your mind is filthy.”

She blushed, a devilishness creeping to the forefront of her mind. “I’m not the one who likes it when they’re—”

“No!” he spat over her. Shikamaru stopped dead, pointing back at her accusatively.  “Not while I’m walking down the street. Let me keep my dignity, woman.”

Temari was sure that she’d get noise complaints come the morning from the laughter that flew out the window into the open air. He sent the same, cackling laugh right back, and that same overwhelming feeling of pride crept over her. It almost broke her when they finally fell silent and he raised his hand to say goodbye, slow and solemn.

He didn’t want to leave either, and he was barely even hiding it, but he began stepping back anyway. As much as it felt terrible, Temari knew she had to let him disappear around the corner. It hadn’t felt real that he’d be moving on until his departure right now. It was finally sinking in that, when she’d see him next, she’d have no reason for her to consider him her responsibility; he’d be another patient come tomorrow morning, and this part of their lives had ended. Temari had no idea what would follow, and she could only hope things fell into place as they did when her eyes fluttered shut at night, but for now she needed to let go of the first patient she had made smile and watch him grow into the man she knew he could be, the man she wanted.

Temari gulped, suddenly realising exactly what that feeling in her chest was.

“Night,” said Shikamaru, cutting through the silence with the cleanest and most careful voice.

“Goodnight. I’ll call you,” she mumbled, waving meekly in return. “Really this time, no bullshit.”

She couldn’t see his smile anymore when he grew silent, but she prayed it was there.

“Temari?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you so much.”

Temari bit down on her lip as unwanted tears formed in her waterline. “I know, flower boy,” she sighed. “I know.”

[carrotsofavonlea]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter seven: Can’t take my eyes off of you

[AO3]

"Anne!" Gilbert caught her as she came out of one of her classes, reaching out to grab her books from her.

"You don't have to-"

"We're supposed to be dating, remember?" He nudged her as they walked down the hall. The past few days Anne had gotten so swept up in being Gilbert's friend, being around him again, that she almost forgot about their plan and the fact that in public they were indeed supposed to act like a couple.

Suddenly his hand grabbed on to hers, spinning her around in the middle of the hall until his arm was across her chest, her back pressing into his own chest. She was taken aback at first by the sudden display of affection, but then she saw what had caused it. Winifred.

"Hello, Gilbert." Winifred approached, and Anne felt his grip tighten on her hand.

"Winifred. How are you?"

"I'm good." She looked over at Anne, putting on the fakest smile. "Anne isn't it? I'm so glad to see you two are still going strong."

"We're closer than ever." Anne's free hand came up to hold the arm Gilbert still had across her chest. "Isn't he just the sweetest? Carrying my books for me?"

Winifred's expression hardened but still maintained a fake happiness about it. "The sweetest."

Gilbert awkwardly looked away, but Anne could feel him pulling her tighter against him as he grew more uncomfortable.

"Well I just came over to see how you're doing. I'll see you around." Winifred waved and just like that she was gone again.

Gilbert's grip on Anne only loosened when Winifred was out of sight.

"That was weird." He gestured over his shoulder in the direction Winifred had gone. "What was that all about?"

Anne shrugged, "Maybe she's just being friendly?"

"She's up to something. Why would she just "want to see how we're doing"? That's odd right?"

"I think your tin foil hat is crooked." Anne laughed, reaching up to adjust a fake invisible hat on Gilbert's head. "You're just paranoid."

He broke into a laugh as well, his hand coming up to touch hers before pulling away, realising what he'd just done. But once again the moment passed as if it never happened.

"Maybe she's jealous?" A small smile tugged at Gilbert's lips and it made Anne's chest feel weird.

But she ignored the feeling, telling herself this was a good thing. It's what they wanted wasn't it? For their ex's to be jealous? It just meant the plan was working as it should be.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe." Anne tried to laugh, but it just sounded fake. She bit her lip and stepped back from Gilbert. "I uh, need to get to class."

"Anne wait!" He called after her and she turned, feeling hopeful.

"Yeah?"

"You forgot your books." He held them up and she slowly walked towards him.

"Oh, right. Bye."

"Bye?" He raised an eyebrow as he watched her leave. She was acting weird, but then again it was Anne, so he didn't think too much of it and instead started his plan for how he would "ask" Anne to the centennial.

/////

Gilbert paused outside the cafeteria, looking in through the window to try and spot Anne. She was sat at her usual table with Diana and the rest of her friends.

"Hey, I got it." Moody appeared behind Gilbert, clutching a guitar at his chest. "Are you sure about this?"

"No. But it's too late to back out now." Gilbert laughed, but there was a hint of fear behind his eyes.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the cafeteria, his throat feeling dry. There were a lot more people than he remembered at this school, where did they all come from? The noise in the room was like a low buzz of hundreds of different voices and conversations. He glanced over at Moody and gave him the "signal" they'd agreed earlier (which was just a thumbs up) and he mouthed, "1...2...3…"

Moody began playing, and Gilbert cleared his throat.

" You're just too good to be true…. "

Slowly but surely the buzz died down, and people started to turn their heads to try and find the source of the voice. Anne looked up from her table, trying to see where in the crowd Gilbert was, instantly recognising his voice.

" Can't take my eyes off of you… " he climbed up on a table, a cheeky grin plastered over his face as he pointed to Anne across the room.

She laughed, pointing to herself, "Me?" She mouthed and if she wasn't mistaken...was that a wink from Gilbert?

Moody climbed up on a different table, almost knocking over somebody's lunch, when suddenly at another table a few other people stood up with trumpets and saxophones. Unbeknownst to Gilbert, Moody had enlisted a few of his friends from music class to add an extra "flavour" to this "performance".

Gilbert carried on singing, but the laughter in his voice was audible thanks to Moody's surprise.

" I love you baby, and if it's quite alright I need you baby... trust in me when I say… ." He carefully climbed across tables, jumping between them as people shouted, some even joining in Gilbert's song.

"Let me love you baby, let me love you…." He stopped on the table before Anne's, holding his arms in the air.

"Anne Shirley Cuthbert, will you go to the centennial with me?"

Anne looked around, everyone's eyes on her. Never in her life did she imagine Gilbert Blythe standing on a table, confessing his "feelings" for her in front of the entire school. Granted it was fake, but even just the idea of anyone doing this for her made her stomach flip.

"Yes." She said, standing up to go and hug him, but before she could reach him a teacher had called across the room.

"Mr BLYTHE!"

Moody had never run so fast in his life, fleeing from the scene with his fellow musicians leaving Gilbert alone on a table.

"Uh...Mr Philips…" he slowly climbed down.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Romance, sir." Gilbert laughed, but Mr Philips was not amused.

"Everyone get back to their own lunch." Mr Philips called everyone turned away from the scene, pretending like the last two minutes hadn't happened.

He lead Gilbert out of the room and Anne winced, feeling ever so slightly guilty that he got in trouble for her. But it left her reeling, and she sat back down at her table, all her friends beginning to scream about what just happened.

"Anne that was so romantic!"

"You're so lucky!"

"Who knew Gilbert could sing?"

/////

Anne didn't see Gilbert the rest of the day, he obviously had to stay behind in detention. But when she saw his curly head walk past his window she opened hers, gesturing for him to do the same.

"There he is the golden boy himself." She laughed, "First detention?"

"I am officially a bad boy." He held up his hands, "Guess you'll be falling for me any day now."

She rolled her eyes, but leaned her elbow on her window. "I'm sorry you got detention. But for what it's worth, I really liked it. It was the best fake dance-sposal I've had."

He shrugged, "It was no big deal. Mr Philips told me since I'm a "model student" he'll ignore it this one time. But he's not too thrilled. Turns out he isn't a high school musical fan."

"And you're not Troy Bolton. You can't just sing in the cafeteria."

"You already admitted you liked it. I won."

She removed her elbow from the window and stood up straight, trying not to let him see her smile. "Well, at least we've convinced people now. They should think we're ba real couple."

"Roy seemed pretty annoyed. I didn't see Winnie but no doubt she's angry, I never did anything like that for her."

"She's probably seeing what she's missing."

They held each other's gaze for a moment before Gilbert turned his head away from her. "Bash is calling me. I better go see what he wants. I'll...talk to you later?"

He gave her a smile and a wave before closing his window and his shape disappearing from the room. Anne sat staring at his empty window, trying to figure out exactly what she was feeling. This was all very confusing…

/////

Tag List: @rohaintahquil @hakunamademons @thxnderclouds@awaeforlife@m1rkw00dpr1ncess @mrs-shirley-cuthbert-blythe@nerdybrunette @i-ammischiefmanaged @sarahisatotalgeek @neomikaha@etsatymton @parkeroffline

[bensdump]

ramen! mine! | ksj

∷ Your weekly visit to the local convenience store was getting ruined by an entitled ramen thief.

Seokjin x Reader

Words: 3,700

∵ fluff

∵ e2l au

23:04:37 » Friday 20th April 2018

Sweatpants + a huge jumper + messed up hair + Cheeto dust on your face= only acceptable when at home or on a late night trek to the convenience store.

You were doing the latter.

The walk to your local 24hr convenience store every Friday was the highlight of your week. Normal people would be terrified to walk alone at night, but you loved it. Everything was on mute; no one was around; just you. The stars couldn’t be seen through the layers of thick clouds, but it was reassuring to know they were still there. You could do anything you wanted, no one would see. You could fling off your jumper, run around stark naked and no one would bat an eye, there wouldn’t be anyone there in the first place. You were alone.

You remembered the walk to the store like the back of your hand. Take a sharp left after leaving your apartment. Along the thin path that was decorated with daisies; ivy cloaking and embracing the brick wall like camouflage for the old graffiti that painted the walls. Under the not-so-safe bridge with the not-so-clean river flowing past it. Past the snowy white cat that always rested on that wall; you never forget to give her a small chin scratch. Then up the typically busy street, but that was the best thing about being here when the city was asleep. No one was in the way of you scoring that weekly beef ramen.

That’s what you always did every Friday. It was also what another certain someone started doing every Friday since the 20th April.

It was like clockwork at this point. You enter the store, greet Dave; the half-asleep employee who you were on a first name basis with, walk to the back of the store; it was where the refrigerators and your favourite drinks were, then skip happily to the third row; your beef ramen was always the only one left on the shelf at this time of night.

Something was stopping you from your normal routine; the something being a tall handsome man at the other side of the aisle, eye-fucking your ramen. He looked just as abominable as you do this evening. Same jumper, same Cheeto dust.

But his face was near perfect; not one spot in sight. Soft to touch, smooth. The features seemed to be carved with utmost delicacy and care, maybe a few slip-ups, but it was near perfection to you.

He radiated so much character to you with just one look, the one small ring hanging from his ear told you he was up for anything but has a limit, as there is only one piercing. Deshelved hair, but had the messy look everyone wanted, showed you how careless he is about his hair- he has his face so you wouldn’t worry about hair either.

His chocolate eyes looked distressed and determined as he looked at your ramen- Your ramen.

It clicked for you that he was staring up your beef ramen; you felt disgusted on behalf of your ramen. You glanced back up at your competitor; he had the same stare on his face; both of you had slits for eyes and you knew only one of you could walk out of the store a champion.

You could’ve sworn you saw a tumbleweed fly past his long legs. The stare down was intense; you weren’t nervous at all, he can give you his best.

You darted towards the ramen with a lengthened arm stretched out. It was so close; your finger grazed the ramen and danced along the packet, but it was taken from your grip.

You weren’t one to brag but, your reaction time was pretty outstanding so that ramen was back in your hands in no time. The soft contact of his skin you thought about touching, grazed your thumb; you only took into perspective how close you and this ramen stealer were. He towered over you with a glare pointed at your hands on his supposed ramen.

“Hands off, I was here first,” he pulled the ramen towards his chest, ultimately pulling you with it.

“RAMEN. MINE,” you couldn’t form proper sentences under pressure; so you let broken words fall from your mouth and pulled the ramen back with the same amount of force- a little more hostile than him.

“What? Sorry, no crazy lady, this is mine,” He pulled it back; his attitude ticked you off more than it should this evening and you and ‘crazy ramen thief’ had a tug-of-war in the middle of a convenience store aisle.

It got out of hand quickly. Somehow you ended up pulling too hard; he fell into you, and the shelf behind you. Products fell and were spread all over the floor. “Y/N?”, the sound of crashing awoke Dave and he advanced towards the aisle; he will kill you if he sees this mess.

“Well, see you later Y/N,” the ‘crazy ramen thief’ shoved the ramen into your chest with a stupid grin- it made you want to punch him.

But what made you want to punch him, even more, was when he dashed out of the store, leaving you to blame for the mess.

You decided right then; you have a new enemy. At least you got the ramen.

23:04:01 » Friday 27th April 2018

It was the same for today as well, leave your apartment to go buy your evening meal. You took the same route, looked at the same things. You took a sharp left after leaving. Went along the thin path with the daisies and the ivy graffiti wall. Under the not-so-safe bridge with the not-so-clean river flowing past it. Past the snowy white cat. Then up the typically busy street. But then something happened that never happens on your route. You saw someone else. He had the same pace as you, slow steps that were leading him towards the convenience store that illuminated lime green in the distance.

The thought popped into your mind; you know that messy, dishevelled hair. It was 'crazy ramen stealer’. You didn’t stop to think for a moment when you bolted past him, leaving the thief in your dust. The wind was sweeping your hair over your shoulders and untangling messy knots. You felt the satisfaction of buying the last pot of ramen flow through your veins already; it pumped the adrenaline through you faster. Your legs stretched out further with each stride.

That, unfortunately, was your downfall. Legs. He had them; you didn’t.

You made a trivial mistake running past him- he recognised you instantly. He laughed at how pathetic you were; you couldn’t beat him. He lifted his feet and picked up the pace, breaking out into a sprint.

Panting resounded in your left ear as you saw the thief matching your movements with less amount of effort. This guy got your blood pumping- but in the wrong kind of way.

He smirked and you could’ve done it; you could’ve reached out and slammed your fist into his face. He was already gone, but not before snarky words dripped out of his foul mouth:

“Good evening. It’s Y/N, right? Well, sorry to make this greeting short, but I’ve got to go buy some ramen.”

You walked, clutching your stomach, puffing and panting, through the automatic doors of the store to be greeted, not with Dave, but with Dave selling the last pot of beef ramen to a grinning bastard. He walked past you with the smug look on his face you should be wearing and spoke.

“I’m Jin by the way. I have a feeling we will be meeting up more often.”

23:01:12 » Friday 4th May  2018

Today you planned to leave earlier- it’s only a few minutes but that could make the difference between losing and winning with Jin.

Jin.

The name haunted you for all of last week; his name and face stuck in the back of your mind, he was the source of the burning feeling you were experiencing; the reason you were getting so competitive over just ramen.

You didn’t take a moment to appreciate the reasons why you come out here so late. Your steps were hasty; flying straight past the snowy cat, not stopping to scratch her. You made it onto the typically busy streets; the air at night-time was definitely different. It felt bitter but when you breathed it in you felt warm. You couldn’t describe the feeling in words- like you were at home while standing outside.

Lime green lights flickered into your vision and the sign that had imprinted itself into your mind came into view. Your stroll became a skip as you entered the store.

Jin was nowhere in sight- brilliant. Joyfully, you skipped to the back aisle and grabbed your favourite drink and took a U-turn to the third.

It was sitting there perfectly on the shelf. Untouched. It felt strange just being able to grab it like this- you missed the competition a little.

You slammed the ramen and drink on the counter triumphantly and handed your money over to Dave. You had a smirk on your face, but he wasn’t here to see it, making it feel pointless.

Stepping out of the store and inhaling the night air once again you thought about waiting for him; just for gloating purposes obviously. It was a silly thought and you brushed it off. You didn’t want it to seem like you care. You plodded down the few steps and looked up to see the one and only; you hid the ramen behind your back.

“Hello there, Y/N,” he said your name differently, it was dragged out longer; it was said with a little more power. You couldn’t admit to yourself that you got excited whenever he said it. Maybe because it was him was saying it.

“Don’t even bother hiding it, I already saw you skip in there and buy it.”

“So you stalked me,” he turned while scoffing at your assumption.

“I wasn’t stalking you, I just happened to see you through the window,” you nodded at him while pushing past his shoulder- you wanted to be petty.

“Well, this is a goodbye, Jin, I’m going to enjoy my ramen,” you wiggled the pot in his face and turned on your heel to walk a confident stride home. Even though he didn’t want to, Jin couldn’t help but watch you walk away from him.

23:05:02 » Friday 11th May 2018

You couldn’t believe it- you were late. It may have been by a few seconds, but you were still late.

Sprinting seemed pointless now as you saw him standing outside the store, plastic bag in hand. But when you saw him, you felt yourself start to run faster.

You approached him and he jolted at your presence, looking extremely panicked you were actually here. You smirked and thought it was cute for like one second. Just one small second.

“So you were waiting for me?”

“For ages. You really need to start working out,” his retaliation struck a chord with you.

“You need to clean out that dirty mouth of yours.” A hearty chuckle/squeak was heard from behind you as you decided to just walk away from him; you didn’t win this week.

“Where are you going?”, you have never twisted around so fast. Why was he asking?

“I didn’t win, so I’m leaving,” you corrected him, and he began slowly nodding looking every but your gaze. You set off walking away again when Jin finally said what he was dodging around and groaned before saying it.

“Wait! There was two this time,” he was telling the truth as he pulled out two beef ramens from the plastic bag, “do you want it or not.” The question sent a small flame to your chest, the chilled night cooled it down again. Your first instinct was to say yes to this 'crazy ramen thief’. You noticed your favourite drink laying in the bottom of the bag- it made your heart soft.

You were hesitant at first; there would be lots of bickering if you sat and ate with him. You didn’t want to start hating him; he didn’t even seem that bad of a guy, but he stole your ramen. “Fine.”

01:45:08 » Saturday 12th May 2018

“Jin! Stop it,”

“Y/N, come on, you can’t hate a classic.”

“I don’t, but it’s coming out of your mouth,” you flicked his forehead again; you can’t remember how many times you have done that tonight.

You were right when you thought there would be bickering for the better half of the night; at the moment Jin thought it was hilarious to hum the Batman theme tune in your ear, you, on the other hand, did not. Your eardrum was beginning to ache and you felt the need to blame it entirely on Jin.

What you didn’t expect, was to learn so much about him. You found out you were right about his earring, hair, and the confidence he has with his face (a little too confident), and learnt much more about this intriguing character.

“Okay, I concede, I’ll stop,” you didn’t mean to let out a heavy sigh, but the relief of not hearing 'dunununun batman’ again was an amazing feeling.

Taking a moment to breathe and relax in the silence was a rare moment with Jin, but now that you’re experiencing being with him for more than 3 minutes, it’s wasn’t so awful. A raw gust of air drifted through you and Jin, biting at you on your nose and ears; you snuggled further into your jumpers collar, you waited for the harsh wind to pass before emerging again.

“Do you know your nose and ears turn red when your cold,” Jin was speaking in a softer tone than before, it sounded much better than the annoying hums.

You reached and covered your nose- you did not know that. He laughed at your sudden shyness; it was a nice contrast from your normally confident personality.

“Don’t worry. It’s cute,” he grabbed his drink and began sipping. You hadn’t said a word and dropped your hand, shocked. It was obvious you weren’t answering any time soon; he started panicking, chugging the drink so he didn’t have to speak to you.

“Jin uhm” your voice was out of the blue and it made Jin start choking on the drink.

“Are you okay,” you started hitting his back in hopes it will help- it didn’t.

He swatted at you and stood up and away from your surprisingly strong smack. “I’m good,” his reply was short and combined with strained coughs, “I should go.”

He grabbed his plastic bag and started running away from you quicker than he was last week.

“Bye!”, he lifted his hand as he ran away and left you alone; you could still hear his small coughs from far away.

“What a strange man.”

23:03:59 » Friday 25th May 2018

Today felt a little different. There was only one pot of ramen there. Last week ended the same as before; there were two pots there so you ate together. But…

It was weird because you thought you would be eating with Jin again- no matter how much you two bickered, you didn’t mind the company.

But now you weren’t spending this Friday night with him, and it bugged you more than you thought it would.

“Y/N, hey,” Jin glided through the doors and past the aisles, “you grab the ramen and I’ll get the drinks.”

He had become so casual with you- it was freaking you out. You had only known this man for six weeks; you had sworn him off as your enemy; you only talked to him a little. Now he was acting like a friend and you realised you didn’t want that at all. You wanted more which was even scarier.

He happily stepped up next to you and followed your gaze to the one pot of beef ramen.

“Oh, there’s only one. We could share it.”

“No,” you answered almost immediately and stepped away, “I don’t want to eat with you.”

“No?”, he claimed in a hurt tone and just looked at you, “We’ve been eating together for the past two weeks.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to eat with you anymore,” you started walking out towards the door and away from this emotional mess you were feeling; if you were around him it got worse, and it terrified you as you haven’t even known him that long.

Your hand was taken from your side and you were pulled to face Jin, “why not? You know I’m actually starting to like you… just a little.”

“Me too.”

“Good, so can we just buy-”, you forced your hand from his grip and stepped back in surrender- the weird clenching feeling in your heart was becoming overwhelming.

“No Jin, I like you, it’s not like how you see me,” you stated as you slowly stepped back, “it’s weird, we’ve only known each other for six weeks. I should just go,” you spun and dashed out the door before his hand could catch you again and didn’t stop running till you made it to the familiar snowy white cat.

She called out to your distressed form and you promptly answered with the usual chin scratch. You sighed and rested your head in your spare hand as you continued scratching the stray cat.

You really couldn’t see Jin again after you said that.

00:02:42 » Saturday 2nd June 2018

The streets were dead.

Jin sat at the table outside of the lime green convenience store, two pots of ramen laid out neatly with chopsticks next to each one. It had been an hour; he knew you weren’t coming, but he waited there in the darkness still.

He played with the lid on one of the pots, entertaining himself as the Batman theme song left his lips in a hum.

Jin really needed to see you after he heard what you said.

23:20:57 » Friday 15th June 2018

He wasn’t going to wait two hours for you again. He chucked the untouched ramen into the trashcan with hostility. It had been two weeks- you still wouldn’t show up at your place. Your place?

He knew you were right when you said it was strange and scary to feel this way about someone you only just met; he understood as he was experiencing it himself.

23:00:00 » Friday 22nd June 2018

You dragged your feet along the thin path; you barely noticed the daisies and ivy anymore.

You took your time under the not-so-safe bridge.

Past the snowy white cat that always rested on that wall; not ignoring her on purpose and forgot her usual small chin scratch.

Then up the typically busy street.

You missed the noise, specifically Jin’s noise. You hadn’t seen him for three weeks and it frightened you that you were still grieving over him. You hadn’t noticed how much he had an impact on your weekly schedule.

You lugged yourself through the door and neglected Dave, leaving him in an awkward position of being halfway through a hello. It was straight to the third aisle; you haven’t been in a great mood because of Jin, you needed some ramen.

You looked the same as you did those ten weeks ago: sweatpants, stained jumper, Cheeto dust everywhere, and messed up hair. Before, when you were seeing Jin every week, you didn’t realise you dressed up a little more. It all felt stupid now.

Once again, the ramen was nearly in your grasp, so close before it was snatched away and you were pulled towards your thief. The crazy ramen thief.

“You know if you would’ve just listened to me I wouldn’t have had to wait for you here every Friday.”

“Jin-”

“No, don’t say my name,” he loosened his grip on the pot and let it drop between you two, “You left me for three weeks… I missed you.”

You were dismayed and the three words threw you off track- he didn’t let you get a word in.

“I missed the strange ramen competition we had, it was ours- it was fun to see how determined you were to win against me,” he brought the cup back up to chest level, “your such an idiot, I liked you too. I know how scary it is for you to go from hate to love so suddenly.”

“Liked?”, you questioned him with caution, still unsure of what he was saying. He scoffed and tugged the ramen pot so you were in position.

“I have feelings for you too,” he spoke softly and his breath fanned on your lips before he leaned in and embraced you in a warm kiss.

Somehow the ramen pot stayed in between you two; figuratively and literally.

23:10:34 » Friday 15th February 2020

“Grab the ramen, I’ll get the drinks,” Jin shouted as he ran to the end aisle.

“There’s only one,” you shouted across the store as you frantically examined the shelf, but there was nothing in sight. You and Jin were unable to celebrate valentines yesterday so today’s plan was unplanned and spontaneous, but the familiar feeling of being here again was nostalgic as you looked back on how you and Jin met.

You chuckled to yourself at how stupid you two were.

“What are you laughing at, freak,” a bottle was placed on your head and Jin stood tall behind your petite size; you turned and grabbed the bottle and giggled again.

“Nothing,” you left him in the third aisle and arrived at the counter.

Dave, sadly, no longer worked at the convenience store and you were greeted with an unfamiliar and foreign face, “just these then?”

You and Jin walked, hand in hand, out of the store unto the typically busy street.

Past the snowy white cat.

Under the now fixed bridge and clean river.

Up to the thin path that no longer had daisies but the ivy was still standing strong.

And arrived at your now shared apartment to enjoy your beef ramen together.

[annoyedfanfiction]

Jim Kirk x fem!reader (7)

“Morning Len,” you smiled, tiredly, as Jim led you over to a table a month later. “Commander Spock. How are you both this morning?” You’d settled easily into a routine on the ship, that often found you and Jim watching the early morning stars together before breakfast. “Better before this hobgoblin showed up,” McCoy grouched, fondly, patting the seat next to him. Spock quirked an eyebrow, but made no comment. “Quite well, Ambassador,” he said to you, “The doctor and I were just discussing the growing popularity of ‘gossip’ that has joined us along with our new recruits.” “And what, exactly, does this gossip say, Mr Spock?” Jim asked, mirthfully, as he settled into the seat beside Spock. “Many things, Captain,” Spock answered, vaguely. “As is its nature. However, I do believe the most common topic concerned the relationship of yourself and Ambassador (L/N).” “He means the media shitstorm before we left off hasn’t left off us,” McCoy translated, irritably. “Really, we’ve an entire ship to run, floating through a vacuum that would kill us in seconds, and they don’t have anything better to do than discuss the love life of the Captain.” You sighed, twisting your apple miserably between your fingers. “They'll move on, anyway.” “I think we can safely say with their track record that this gossip will not make it to the press,” Jim pointed out, easily, toying with his second piece of toast. McCoy grunted noncommittally, then gestured at you both. “Are you two going to eat or just play with your food all morning?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. “Shift starts in fifteen minutes, and you, kid, still have to accompany me to Medbay before that.” Jim rolled his eyes and bit into the toast, leaning across the table to place a buttery kiss on McCoy’s cheek. “I’ve got rounds to do, see ya later Bones,” he announced, wandering out of the mess as Bones wiped the butter off his cheek, muttering.

“Morning (Y/N)!” Nyota greeted, happily, as you entered the bridge and took your seat beside her. She tossed you a smile, turning away to tap at the console as a beep sounded. “Captain, we have a distress signal from Betazed,” she relayed, frowning. You quickly programmed the co-ordinates into your locator. “Co-ordinates?” Jim requested, turning. “8.56N -3.2W, sir,” she answered, immediately. “Remote village in the north eastern quadrant,” you continued, sending the location to Spock’s scanner. “Maidara.” “According to our records, no contact has been made in that area,” Spock added, frowning. “Signal source, however, indicates it is emerging from some kind of personal beacon established at the village.” “Take us into orbit, Mr Sulu,” Jim commanded, thoughtfully. “Uhura, set up a link with the capital, I want as much information as I can get.” “Link established, Captain,” Uhura answered, almost instantly. “Queen Zitaxna Troi, sir.” “On the screen, Lieutenant,” Jim ordered, gesturing Spock to stay at the scanners. “Uhura, (L/N), with me.” You both stood, coming to stand either side of the Captain’s chair.

“Captain Kirk.” The woman on screen cut an imposing figure, pale blonde hair contrasting with her black eyes, but she smiled. “We were not expecting you.” “Apologies, your Majesty,” Jim replied, politely, “We were intending to pass by, but our scanners picked up a distress signal from the north eastern quadrant. As a rule, Federation starships are required to answer any distress signals within reasonable safety parameters.” Her face tightened, visibly, and her smile faded. “We have been having some...problems in the remote areas of the quadrant,” she answered, coldly. “I assure you it is nothing we can’t handle ourselves, Captain. Thank you for your concern.” “You don’t mind, then, if we beam down a landing party?” Jim continued, as Spock approached him with a PADD showing scanner results. “Just for policies’ sake.” “It would be unwise,” Zitaxna answered, firmly. “There are significant security issues in the area. We will manage our internal affairs, Captain. I will answer any questions from StarFleet.” The PADD showed a variety of disease hotspots around the beacon, encircled within the village. “As you say, your Majesty,” Jim answered, inclining his head. “Would you mind if beamed down a small party to gather supplies from Rixx?” “Of course,” she said, relaxing her tight posture. “I look forward to it.” The link closed, and Jim leant back in his chair as silence reigned. “Mr Spock, send those results to Dr McCoy,” he commanded, finally, turning to you and Uhura. “Assessment?” “She’s lying,” Uhura answered immediately. “Whatever is happening down there, she doesn’t want the Federation to know about it.” “(Y/N)?” Jim prompted, turning to you. “I agree,” you shrugged, “She visibly tensed when you mentioned the distress signal. Unfortunately, a landing party could cause a diplomatic issue. Although, since you already suggested sending people to the capital, they have no reason for suspicion about our remaining in orbit. It is unlikely they would notice a second party.” Jim smiled, wryly.  “Excellent,” he said, popping out of his seat. “Mr Sulu, you have the conn. Commander Spock, Scotty, (Y/N) with me. Uhura, you’ll manage communications onboard. I think we will need your expertise.” Uhura returned to her post, grinning at you. “Good luck, (Y/N),” she laughed, easily. “I’ll call Dr McCoy and a security team to the transporter room, Captain.” “Exemplary as always, Lieutenant,” Jim answered, as the four of you stepped into the turbo lift.

“Alright, Spock, McCoy, Riley, you’re with me,” Jim commanded, entering the transporter room. “Hendorff, Jameson, Scotty accompany Ambassador (L/N) to the capital. Scotty, come up with something you need.” Scotty rolled his eyes, but joined you and the two security officers on the transporter pad. “Does he always operate on such limited instructions?” you sighed, materialising outside the walls of the city Rixx.  “Aye,” Scotty agreed, as you began your walk into the city. “Lot of freedom on this ship lass, long as you can predict the crazy master plan.” You laughed, turning to the two security men. “Phasers to low stun,” you instructed, “The Betazoids are our allies and will be treated as such until the situation requires otherwise. Scotty, I want you to keep a line open to Jim the whole time. Hendorff, keep in touch with the ship. We can’t afford to lose contact.” They all nodded, and you twisted your own phaser to low stun, tucking it back into the holster hidden under your dress. The city could have appeared directly out of Ancient Athens, with huge marble columns and brightly painted statues lining the path to the gates. You recognised the royal purple dresses on three of the queens atop the stairs as you climbed, surrounded by black-clad security.  “Your Majesties,” you bowed, lowly. “Ambassador (Y/N) (L/N) of the Starship Enterprise. This is Chief Engineer Scott, Lieutenant Hendorff, and Officer Jameson.”  “I am Queen Zitaxna,” Zitaxna answered, stepping forward. “My colleagues Queen Deanna and Queen Lwalla. You are not accompanied by your Captain?” She frowned, and the security guards edged in a little closer. The two other queens behind her leaned together, but you could not hear their words.

“The Captain is indisposed at the moment,” you assured her, stepping up closer, and lowering your voice. “With so many new recruits, there has been some trouble, the Captain took the opportunity of brief pause in orbit to attend to those matters. He sends his apologies.” She smiled once again, catching sight of the Ambassadorial rings on your uniform. “That is no matter, Ambassador,” she assured you, eyes still cold. “You must be the new graduate. I hear you beat the Kobayashi Maru simulation, Ambassador? You must inform us. Atrixa!” One of the guards stepped forward, obediently. “Attend to the needs of the Chief Engineer. Would you prefer to be accompanied by one of your officers, Ambassador?” You glanced over at Scotty, thoughtfully. “No, I believe Mr Scott will benefit better from their service,” you said, looking back to her. “The ship needs some intel hardware.” “Of course,” Zitaxna conceded, happily. Scotty opened his mouth to protest, but you shook your head slightly. “It was the comms console that needed intel refits, right Mr Scott?” you insisted, firmly, willing him to understand. He glared at you, but stepped back, nodding reluctantly. You could see the confusion in his face, but you could only hope that his genius extended to word play.

[crazyfreckledginger]

Donald Pierce x Reader - “Drunken Mistake”

After a long mission, you decide to join your boyfriend halfway on his way back home to go directly to your holiday destination. During a small celebration in a bar with his men whilst he waits for you, you don’t expect to walk in on something that could only be labelled as a mistake that might shatter your heart forever.

Requested by anon: “OKAY I GOT ONE what about Donnie goes away with his men and they go out and he gets drunk and accidentally cheats on his significant other and she finds out”

A/N: I have mixed feelings abotu this ending because no one realy reacts this way but I also have a very specific idea of Donald so idk, hope you like it!

Warning: fighting, alcohol, mention of drugs, teaching, nudity

He had been gone for a week and a half. It was a little far to come back every night and go every morning so the couple concluded that a week and a bit away from each other wouldn’t be so bad right?

Turns out it was a pretty big deal actually. Donald face timed the girl nearly every night, conversing about their days and such.

A two weeks was two long. Since this was his last mission before his vacation, the couple decided to meet halfway since it was on the way to the hotel they would be staying at on their small vacation.

The drive there was a little long for (Y/N), but it was pleasant. Listening to her own music in a comfortable, familiar car with the dog in the bag seat. Speaking of which,

“How are you Khaleesi?” She glancing in her rearview mirror, perceiving the australian shepherd shooting her head off the seat at the sound of her name.

“Hungry? Do you want your puppy treats?” At the sound of her favourite food, her tongue fell out of her mouth and her tail waggled widely.

“Okay love,” (Y/N) chuckled, moving her attention back at the road, her eyes flicked momentarily to the dashboard, “the treats are in the boot, I need to get petrol so we’ll stop at the next exit.”

Before the only sound they were both consumed by was the sound of the tyres against the concrete motorway and the sound of the engine growling from exhaustion. Two more hours of driving to do.

*****

“Good job today men today, you guys deserve a break,” Donald nodded.

“Thanks boss, but we couldn’t have done it without you,” His first in command patted his shoulder like they were old friends, “take a drink, celebrate with us,” Mohawk smirked. Pierce sighed, glancing down at his watch and biting his lip in thought.

An hour and a half before she gets here, that would give me enough time to sober up.

“Fine, just a few drinks,” A small grin etched itself on his face as his colleague guided him to the bar, where a few of his men were already ordering drinks for themselves or each other.

Suddenly, a few girls with very revealing clothes came in the bar from a back door, the lights in the place dimmed slightly as music started blaring in his ears instantly.

“What the f-”

“Oh yeah, this place is a strip club after nine p.m” He heard a guy chuckle behind him.

“Can they do that?” Another inquired.

“Guess so, I’m not complaining though,” The man snorted. Donald frowned slightly, he knew he couldn’t get hammered enough to sleep with any other girl than his but he knew she wouldn’t approve of this.

“Here’s your drink,” The bartender slid his drink on the counter towards him. Pierce nodded at him, grasping his drink.

Here goes nothing.

He gulped half of his drink down, hissing softly as it burned the back of his throat.

“Well hello handsome, you’re quite the attractive one,” He heard a feminine voice behind him and a small weight on his shoulder. The man turned around on his stool, raising an eyebrow at the attention he didn’t really want.  

There, a (H/C) haired girl was grinning widely at him, biting her lip as she looked over him.

“My my, you are a cute one,” She chuckled seductively.

“Thanks, I’m not interested,” He grumbled, turning back.

“Come on, you seem like you need some fun,” Her palm ran up and down his chest.

“Listen lady, I’m not interested, I’m already taken,” he snapped, “go find someone else,” a grunt of disgust escaped his lips as he turned back at the counter, downing the rest of his drink and ordering another one. He didn’t realise he would immediately regret accepting this drink instead of taking a drag outside where people would leave him alone. Pierce looked at his watch again.

Too long for wait for her, this is going to be long and painful.

*****

This is taking too long!

The girl internally groaned, she made sure her quick stop to the petrol station was quick, only getting a small sandwich, giving Khaleesi her snacks and filling the tank up fully.

She didn’t expect to get stuck in traffic in the motorway because a stupid car broke down.

Her eyes glanced down at the dashboard, hearing her dog happily munch on her snacks in the back.

Two hours to midnight already.

“In 10 kilometers, take the first exit.” The GPS stated.

Thank god, only half an hour before her destination, it was about time!

*****

Donald admitted, he might have had a few too many drinks, he’s outright drunk.

He barely kept his balance on his stool.

“Hey,” The (H/C) haired girl came up to him. Pierce turned around in confusion.

“(Y/N)? You’re finally here, it’s about time!” He slurred.

“Easy now,” The girl soothed, holding him against her as he stood up, “come now,” She guided him to the backroom as he started kissing her neck, chuckling against her skin as she released a small giggle.

“Mmh, I like those noises you’re makin’ sweetheart.” The man smirked, grasping the girl’s hips and thrusting them against his as he backed her up against the wall and sucked on her neck, groaning.

**** “Come on Khaleesi,” (Y/N) opened the backdoor, sliding her jacket on as the cold pinched her skin. The dog jumped off the seat onto the dirt ground, waggling her tail excitedly as she stood by the girl’s side. The hound watched as one of her owners closed the door and locked the car before walking towards the bar her boyfriend texted a few hours ago.

She perceived a few men in front of the bar that she was sure worked for. They were smoking and clearly more than a little tipsy. She took the dog’s leash and attached Khaleesi on a pole a few meters from the bar so the latter wouldn’t pick a fight with drunk men as easily. She scratched her neck before standing up and glancing towards the bar again.

“Behave baby,” (Y/N) ordered before walking to the bar. She pushed the door open scanning around the room. The distasteful smell of alcohol, smoke and something that didn’t smell very legal. Her eyebrows met each other in a frown, not being able to see her boyfriend. Her eyes lit up as she saw a back door with a toilet sign on it.

Her feet marched through the people, her face contorting to disgust as she distinguished girls giving a number of Donald’s men lap dances and grinding against their bodies. She pushed the backdoor open and walked towards the bathroom.

“Donnie?” She called out. Nothing.

“Donnie-” The girl stopped herself as she heard moans and groans. She frowned, slowly creeping towards the source of the voices. Standing in front of the door she was sure the sounds where coming from, she slowly opened the door, frowning when she recognised the voice. Her finger flicked the light switch and she gasped once her eyes deciphered the figures in front of her.

“Oh god,” She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand in disgust, “what the fuck!”

Donald was laying on the bed, a (H/C) haired girl sitting on him, both of them very naked and in a very compromising position.

“Doll?” Pierce frowned in confusion.

“Please please tell me this is not what it fucking looks like.” She cursed.

“He’s your man?” The girl that was riding him smirked at (Y/N), “he’s really good in bed-”

“YOU FUCKING SLUT!” The girl roared, pouncing on the girl and punching her across the face. Donald seemed to come back to his senses a little as he weakly pushed his upper body up.

“Fuck what’s happening?” He muttered, his head hurting like crazy as he held his head tightly.

“Get off you bitch, he’s the one who cheated on you!” The naked girl tried to prior (Y/N) off of her.

“I know a fucking whore when I see one, you took advantage of him, I know my man wouldn’t do this in his right mind!” She punched her face.

“Oh s-shit,” Pierce stumbled out of bed, pulling the girl off, “baby, s-stop!” His grip was tight around her, despite his unbalance, he managed to keep her against his chest as she tried to get him off.

“Let me go, asshole!” She snapped.

“S-sh, let’s speak about this before throwing punches,” Donald grunted in the girl’s ear as she slowly stopped resisting him.

“Okay,” She sneered, glaring hard at the girl.

Comments, votes and feedback improve motivation, writing and publishing, so it is in your best interest to leave some! :)  

Want to be tagged? Let me know in which ever way you are the most comfortable with!

Tagging: @lumifuer @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy @plethora-of-things @xlatinaaxx @lostnliterature @batette @pythiaaa @nxxttime @gearsinice @mizmahlia @tina8009 @alex--awesome--22 @eris-maximoff  

[pikelanette]

A Pirate’s Life For Me (chapter 6)

AND FINALLY! The thrilling finale! 

Pairing: pikelan Words: 5155 Rated: M (for language) Link: ao3 Chapter 1: tumblr / ao3 Chapter 2: tumblr / ao3 Chapter 3: tumblr / ao3 Chapter 4: tumblr / ao3 Chapter 5: tumblr / ao3

a multi-chapter pikelan pirate AU - chapter 6 - final chapter

The next day was the weirdest day they’d had yet. They had nothing to work on anymore except prepping for the upcoming fight, and it left them both a little awkward and a little restless. From the look on Pike’s face, sometimes, Scanlan guessed that she had a lot more questions, but for some reason she wasn’t asking any of them. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to waste another spell on making him tell the truth on a day where she would probably need to be at full power, and she didn’t trust him to answer truthfully without it. That thought was a little disappointing, but it could be the case.

They spent the larger part of the day trying to prepare to the best of their abilities. Pike put on the pieces of her armour she had put aside for comfort and spent a good long while praying over her holy symbol. Scanlan tried to see if the amulet responded to her in any way, but if it did, he couldn’t pick up on it. There was nothing visual, at least.

He, thankfully, felt a lot better than the day before. A night’s rest had done him good, and although he realised that he wasn’t exactly at full physical strength yet, the magic inside of him was humming contently and he knew that he would have no problem with throwing out some bolts of lightning.

They grew tenser as time passed, because they knew that the moment of truth had to be getting closer. Particularly Scanlan, who knew the rate at which his friends must be approaching them, had a fair estimation of how long it would take before they arrived, and the anticipation that was constantly rising within him seemed to be picked up on by Pike.

They smiled nervously at each other a couple of times, and Scanlan found himself pre-emptively mourning the time they had spent locked up in this brig together. there was nothing he wanted more than to sleep in his own bed, but the thought that that might cost him Pike made him flinch. He had gotten irrationally attached to her in the past two weeks. And, no, that wasn’t just because she was basically his dream woman. Well, maybe it was.

She was his dream woman, okay? He was only human. How could he not get super attached to her?

So, for whatever time they had left, he revelled in the feeling of being in the same boat together. They looked at each other like they shared a secret, and they did, and he loved it. He wanted to share all of his secrets with her. He wanted, for the moment, to pretend that he did.

It was about mid-afternoon when something in the air changed. They started hearing mumbling from above deck, and then running, and shouting. The voices grew more panicked the more they picked up, and Scanlan knew instinctually that the pirates above deck must be watching his friends approach at the incredible speed that Keyleth could create when blowing air into a ship’s sails.

The pirate’s rising panic delighted him, and he felt a grin take over his expression. The time for mourning was over. Only excitement at the upcoming confrontation remained.

He looked at Pike, who took a cue from his obvious amusement and smiled back at him in anticipation.

“Almost there?” she whispered, as though she could ruin it by speaking up.

“Oh, yes,” Scanlan grinned.

Right at that moment, he could hear a soft, metallic voice, that grew louder and clearer as the seconds past.

“Scanlan? Are we in range?”

He lifted his hand to his ear and touched it to his earring. “I hear ya, Kiki.”

“Scanlan!” He could hear the obvious relief in Keyleth’s voice at hearing him, “Oh my gods, it’s so good to hear your voice. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Good job finding us. I’m in the ship’s brig with another prisoner. I could break through the lock, but I’d like to keep some element of surprise and jump them from below as well as above. Can you send in Vax?”

Pike was staring at him, a little slack-jawed, and visibly getting more excited.

“I’ll polymorph him and bring him to you,” Keyleth told him. He could hear the smile in her voice. “We’re about half a minute out. I just stopped the extra wind, so we should be slowing down enough not to pass them by. Did you say something about an extra prisoner?”

“Excellent. And yes. She’s with us. Bring her a weapon.” He glanced at Pike and smiled at her. “Any preference, Pike?”

“Do you have a maul?”

Scanlan touched his earring again. “Bring the Brawlers maul.”

Pike looked at him like he had just offered her a pile of gold.

“Done,” Keyleth said, “I’ll see you in half a minute. And, Scanlan? I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“See you soon, Kiki,” he smiled, and broke the connection.

Pike was inspecting him with a hint of suspicion, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Did you say the Brawlers?”

“Yup.”

“The notorious pirates who claim they’re all descended from dragons?”

“They’re full of shit. But yes.”

Pike shook her head in disbelief and laughed a little. “Why do you have their maul?”

Scanlan grinned and, emboldened, reached out to take her hand and bring it up to his mouth so he could kiss it. “They didn’t deserve it. That’s why we’re getting it a new wielder.”

Pike giggled and his very favourite blush rose to her perfect round cheeks.

His heart felt like it might burst. This was the best day of his life.

“Are you ready?” he asked her, “Things are about to get crazy.”

She sent him a dramatically scandalised look. “Scanlan. Who are you talking to?”

“Someone who’s about to kick some pirate ass?”

“Someone who’s about to obliterate some pirate ass.”

He hummed appreciatively. “I’d like a front row seat to that.”

She grinned. “First come first served.”

At that moment, there was a flutter of movement in the brig, and they looked up to see a small robin making its way towards them, flapping its wings enthusiastically. As it approached the bars to their cell, it started glowing, and, like a flower unfurling its petals, shifted into a tall, red-haired woman holding a staff. There was a maul hanging from a belt around her hips. She had a huge, happy smile on her face, and Pike liked her instantly.

“You’re still looking like that, huh?” she said to Scanlan, clearly happy to see him, even in his disguised form.

“You know I love a good costume.”

“Touché.” The woman’s gaze drifted to the gnome beside him and curiously looked over Pike – her full plate armour, white hair, the scar that ran across her left eye.

“Kiki?” Scanlan said, “The Vax, please?”

“Oh! Sorry!” She reached up and pulled a tiny spider from her messy red hair, putting it onto the ground beside her and dropping the spell she had put on it.

Another shift took place, this one reminding Pike more of an egg shell breaking to reveal a creature within. She blinked, and there was another person in the brig with them. This one had long, dark hair and a wicked grin on his face. He pulled out some thieves’ tools from his pockets and twirled them between his fingers. “Captain,” he said.

Scanlan didn’t dare to glance at Pike with that word hanging in the air.

She definitely heard that.

Above them, the fight had broken loose, and they heard shouts as well as small explosions and the unmistakable splash of someone hitting the water beside the ship.

Vax got to work immediately and within seconds he had picked the lock, swinging open the door to the cell, allowing Scanlan and Pike to rush out. Neither of them looked back before the four of them started rushing up the stairs. But, as they did, Pike reached for Scanlan’s hand and took it.

Something inside of him caught fire.

This was the happiest day of his life.

The hatch to the brig was slightly ajar and Vax learned over to gently lift it a little further and peek out. The sounds of the battle grew even louder, and Pike could feel the familiar adrenaline rushing through her veins at the proximity of a good fight. Gods, she wished Grog was here.

Vax motioned that they had to keep quiet for another moment as he reached into his belt and pulled out a mean-looking dagger. While he did, Keyleth removed the maul from her belt and quietly handed it to Pike with a smile. Pike returned her smile with as much warmth as she could muster and weighted the weapon in her hand. Then, she brought it up with her as she touched her holy symbol and sent a quick prayer to Sarenrae to help her face this.

Before she even finished, Vax flicked a dagger into the fray, and then two more. Pike couldn’t distinguish the cries of pain from each other, but the grin on the rogue’s face told her that he had definitely hit his target.

“Let’s go!” he said, and pushed open the hatch.

They rushed onto the ship’s deck and, immediately, Pike was a little disoriented. Everywhere around her people were running and shouting. There was the sound of metal upon metal and spells being flung around, recognisable, familiar sounds, but there were others sounds too, and she followed them to their sources. Her eyes widened at the things she saw.

There was a woman on a flying broom, racing over the fray, with an enormous longbow in her hands and a grin on her face that immediately identified her as Vax’s sibling. She shouted something down and Pike followed her gaze to an actual living grizzly bear that was running across the deck and mauling pirates left and right. Vax jumped into the battle as well, sneaking behind barrels and dodging opponents before pushing daggers into their flesh, his eyes flashing darkly as he released poison and fire into their bloodstream. Near the ship’s helm stood a tall human with a shock of white hair and a strange mechanical contraption in his hand. He looked impeccable in his blue coat as he pulled the trigger on the thing and shot fast-moving projectiles across the deck, incapacitating people left and right.

Pike and Scanlan looked at each other, identical grins on their faces. Scanlan wiggled his eyebrows and squeezed her hand. And, for the first time in weeks, Pike threw her head back and let out a good spell of laughter. With that, they let go of each other.

Pike gripped her maul and finished the prayer to Sarenrae that had been cut off earlier. With that, she spoke the divine words that had protected her so many times before, and sent out a spike of radiant energy, making good on the promise she had made herself so many weeks ago and getting a good ol’ Guiding Bolt right up a pirate’s butt.

Scanlan sauntered forward to get a better vantage point and sent his first Lightning Bolt towards the piece of shit who had ordered his capture two weeks ago. He didn’t hit on the first one, but immediately let out another, and this one hit home. The captain twitched and straightened out as the electrical charge rushed through his body, some of it sparking off his rapier.

Scanlan laughed heartily at the sight and kept approaching, ignoring the rest of the fighting crew on the ship. One or two of them attempted to hit him, but both missed and he stepped out of the way deftly. Before long he had the captain’s attention, and he could see the confusion take over his expression as he looked at the meek, scruffy halfling with a most uncharacteristic grin on his face. Scanlan oozed confidence, and he felt suave. He felt in his element.

He was in his element: he was about to drop a bomb of drama on this poor soul.

“You are not having a good day,” he said gleefully.

The captain actually let his rapier lower for a moment, staring at this tiny creature slack-jawed. Then something seemed to click, and although Scanlan was sure that he couldn’t see through his illusion, exactly, it was clear that the pirate now knew there was one.

���Who the fuck are you?” the captain barked, clinging on to his dignity and bringing up his rapier again. He tried to look imposing, but Scanlan wasn’t having any of it.

“Who am I?” he repeated, happy with the set-up. He could feel the eyes of others on him, friends as well as enemies. He was sure that one pair was Pike’s. He finally got to show her where his biggest strength lay.

Theatrics.

“Well, I have many names,” he continued smoothly. “The Meat Man. Burt Reynolds. Kingslayer. Francois Bertrand Jean-Luc Australia. But you, my friend, probably know me as Aes Adon.”

The pirate looked as though he was watching a guillotine being raised with every name that Scanlan uttered. He grinned at him, ready to drop it and chop off his head.

“And this,” he continued, spreading his arms to gesture towards the crew that was quickly overpowering the ship, “Is Vox Machina.”

With that, he dropped his illusion, watching as the full realisation of who they were dealing with washed over his rival’s features.

“Vex’ahlia!” Scanlan shouted, and immediately he was approached by the half-elven ranger, who reached for something hanging from her belt and dropped a dark brown tricorne into his hands, adorned with purple feathers and the odd dragon-scale or two. He drew it onto his head, and felt as though he had undergone a transformation that ran far deeper than just dropping an illusion.

Now, he was a force to be reckoned with. Now, he was Aes Adon. Captain of Vox Machina.

The rival captain’s shock morphed into rage within seconds, and Scanlan steadied himself to prepare for his oncoming attack. His rival roared and came at him, the tip of his rapier aimed at his gut, but Scanlan stepped away just in time and the blade merely nicked his side. The joys of being a gnome.

He brought up his own hands and traced an arcane sigil in the air while muttering a few words. Immediately, a huge, spectral hand appeared and lifted him up above the deck, out of the reach of the pirate captain’s rapier. He swung it at him one more time, but only caught the hand’s form, which didn’t falter on its way up.

Scanlan couldn’t keep the grin from his face and he quickly surveyed the battlefield, unwilling to admit that he was looking for Pike until he found her in the crowd.

She was staving off an enemy with maul and then turned to look at him up in the air. Her eyes were wide and bright blue.

Pike just stared up at the fixture in front of her, who both was and was not the person she had spent two weeks locked up in a cell with. He looked so comfortable like this, with the grin on his face, wearing his real visage proudly, the ridiculously ostentatious hat on his head.

Everything fell into place.

“Pirate-robbing pirate,” Pike stammered, and everything made sense now. Why he had targeted these pirates. Their conversation on piracy. His unease with letting her know who he was. The vagueness which had cloaked his true intentions. Even the rough way of speaking that sometimes overpowered his more charming lilt.

He was a pirate. Of course he was. He was a pirate captain.

He was Aes Adon.

She had little to no information on Vox Machina, except that they hit who they could hit and were impossible to track. Looking over the crew that he had brought with him, Pike could definitely see how they were an unconventional lot. A bear at sea, for example, was not exactly something she would have expected.

But they looked powerful. And she was glad to be on their side.

She grinned at Scanlan, finally unbound, having thrown off the limits he had put on himself and showing his bardic prowess in all its glory. Purple looked good on him.

They gazed at each other in the midst of the battle, and then, smoothly, Pike lifted up her maul and pointed it at him. “You and I need to talk!”

“Now?!” he yelled back, but he was still grinning, and seemed pleased with her response.

“After!”

With that, she threw herself back into the fight, her adrenaline fuelled by her excitement at finally knowing who exactly she was dealing with. She had no time to consider anything but how neatly her image of Scanlan fit into that of Aes Adon. Vaguely, she registered that someone was laughing loudly, having heard their exchange. She glanced to the side to see the source and found the rogue with the daggers, Vax, laughing and shaking his head. He caught her gaze and winked at her, before somehow disappearing into some of the shadows cast over the ship by the midday sun.

After that, the fight was over quickly. Pike got some good Guiding Bolts in, one of them scorching the bastard captain who had overpowered her own crew so violently over a month before. It felt good to pay him back, although she knew that there was nothing she could do to him that would somehow make up for the lives he had taken that day.

She loved the feel of the maul she had been given, swinging it left and right whenever she felt like, before reaching for her holy symbol again to communicate Sarenrae’s wrath.

Before long, most of the enemy pirates were crawling, and then the last one fell to one of the fast projectiles that the white-haired human was shooting into the crowd. Pike looked up at him as the battlefield quieted down. Somewhere behind her, Scanlan was walking up to the enemy captain as Vex’ahlia was binding him tightly with rope. Vax offered him one of his daggers, and Scanlan took it as he approached his fallen enemy.

But Pike’s eyes stayed on the gunslinger. There was dark smoke coming from the barrel of his weapon, and he hadn’t lowered it yet. There was something hard and dark about his eyes, and, for a moment, she could swear that she saw some of his weapon’s smoke coalesce and drift down his arm. She knew, instantly, that something was wrong with him, and shivered at the sight.

Then he put down his weapon and the darkness faded. He was just a man.

Suspicious, but satisfied for the moment, Pike turned away from him and looked at where Scanlan stood in front of the bound captain.

He tapped the ropes with Vax’s dagger. “There we go. Neat little packages for Emon’s Crown. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you.”

The pirate captain spat at him, but Scanlan’s hand sneaked up to slap him just before he did, and his spit landed on the deck beside his comrades’ blood.

Scanlan looked at Vex’ahlia. “Maybe gag him?”

“It would be my pleasure,” she answered, and reached over to do just that.

Once the pirate captain was silenced, Scanlan looked him over again. “You have made many mistakes in your life, Harold,” he said, “And kidnapping me was far from the worst of them. I hope others may learn from your mistakes. It becomes rather dull to have nothing but enemies who fall for every trap I lay for them.”

The twins chuckled.

“Let it be known,” Scanlan smiled, “That today, once again, Vox Machina triumphed.”

His crew cheered, and he grinned, and everything was wonderful. There was nothing like the adrenaline rush that he got from a good fight. He felt ecstatic.

As soon as the end of the battle had been officially proclaimed, he was hounded by his crew about all sorts of things. The cook wanted to know whether he should use the special meat for tonight, Keyleth offered to do a Heroes Feast for the occasion, Percy chimed in to say that he had had a thought and wanted some extra materials to work on something, Vax was cajoling him, the younger crew members were congratulating him on the great mission, and Vex was still poking Harold with a stick behind him, resulting in some fairly interesting noises from the bound-up captain.

By the time things had settled down a little again, he had momentarily lost track of Pike. He’d meant to, of course – he couldn’t seem like he was paying anyone special attention.

He had grown up in an environment where it was very dangerous to let people know that you cared about something, and that education still pushed to the surface sometimes. He knew that he could trust his people. But still.

He really did have trust issues, did he? Wow…

Right as he had that realisation, his gaze locked in on Pike, who was tending to some of the wounded. Their usual healers were with her, helping both magically and mostly non-magically, but Pike was dead in the centre of it all. It looked like people had just flocked towards her, and Scanlan wondered whether that happened to her any place she went.

She was bandaging one of the deck mates and muttered a short incantation that seemed to help with sealing up his wounds. Then she turned around and put a hand on one of the unconscious members of the crew, and hesitated. Scanlan watched as Pike looked up again with a frown and looked around for a moment, inspecting the small crowd that had gathered around her. She steadied herself for a moment and reached for her holy symbol and then let out a shockwave of radiant energy that started to stitch up the wounds of various of the people around her. The crew was clearly in awe of her. As they should be. She was incredible.

Vax’s hand fell on his shoulder with a smack and he was shaken out of his thoughts. He looked up at his friend to find the familiar, shit-eating grin on his face.

Scanlan sighed, but couldn’t keep a smile from his face. “Whatcha got, Vax?”

“It really isn’t much about what I’ve got,” Vax grinned, “As much as it is about what you’ve got, my friend. Of course, I’m referring to the exquisite companion you’ve somehow managed to pick up.”

“Yeah, Scanlan,” Vex said as she joined them, “Where did she come from? She looks adorable.”

“She’s a badass,” Vax corrected her immediately.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Not in her, they aren’t,” Scanlan affirmed. He looked back over to where Pike was helping his crew. “What can I say? She was just a very lovely surprise that I found down here.”

There was something about the quiet after he said that that didn’t sit right with him. There were so many things he wanted to say about Pike, and he was horrible at keeping all of it inside.

“She honestly saved me,” he finally admitted, “She kept me up and running while we were stuck in that ship. She really took care of me, in a multitude of ways. It was… honestly a gift.”

If he had said it in a tone that was any less sincere than this, he was sure that the twins would have jumped on him with a decent amount of provocative jokes about what exactly he had received from Pike in all of those weeks. But, as it stood now, Vax and Vex just looked at each other briefly, Vex raising one of her eyebrows, and that was that.

They took a moment, and then Vax squeezed Scanlan’s shoulder. “Well, then you should probably go talk to her, right?”

“Maybe.”

“Scanlan,” Vex said with a delighted gasp, “Are you nervous?”

Scanlan ignored her and turned to face them, running his fingers through his hair. “How do I look?”

“Ruggedly handsome,” Vax deadpanned.

“Very charming,” Vex agreed.

Well. He was willing to settle for that.

“Alright,” he said softly to himself, and then he was off.

By now, most of the people around Pike had stepped aside to tend to rest of their wounds on their own. Pike was still helping some of them with slings and bandages, but it seemed that she was tapped out when it came to her healing spells. That wasn’t surprising, of course, considering the shit she had pulled out of her figurative closet during that fight.

She was sitting on an upturned crate, the maul she had used resting beside her, blood and sweat gathered on her brow. The sun was starting to go down in earnest, and Scanlan got a perfect view of the way that the low light gave her hair a golden sheen. The sun was right behind her, and he had to squint a little, and, by the gods, was she an actual angel? Had he lost blood? He was getting dizzy.

He absent-mindedly reached for the place where Harold had nicked him, and, sure enough, his vest was pretty moist with blood, although the flow seemed to have stopped already. He quickly muttered a Healing Word to himself to help his body along.

Pike looked up at him now, and when she noticed him her mouth pulled up into a gorgeous smile that made his stomach do a twirly thing inside of his body.

She got up from the crate, her hands instinctively reaching for the maul again. That’s how she stood before him – covered in grime from the fight, a damaged maul in her hand, her holy symbol having that soothing glow across it that he had seen only once before, and a grin on her freckled face. Her hair was an absolute mess, which made him feel better about his own, and she was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen in his life.

“So,” she said.

“So,” he parroted, feeling too much like an awkward teenager. He attempted to fix it by plastering a smile onto his face, but it couldn’t entirely conceal the nervousness he was feeling, standing before her in all of his infamous glory.

“Pirate-robbing pirate captain,” she observed.

“Amongst other things.”

He remembered the intimacy between them when he had last spoken those words in her Zone Of Truth, and Pike seemed to remember too, because there was a spark in her eyes and just the tiniest hint of that lovely blush rising to her cheeks. She didn’t look embarrassed as much as she looked to feel a little hot. That had to be a good sign, right?

She crossed her arms and started to slowly shake her head, but there was a smile on her face that made the entire thing look loving. “You’re something else, Scanlan Shorthalt.”

And that wasn’t rejection. That absolutely wasn’t rejection.

Fuck it, he thought, and decided to be bold.

“So, what do you say, Pikey?” He reached for her hand and took it, holding it up loosely with his own and looking down at it as though he were considering where to kiss it exactly. But then he glanced up at her through his eyelashes. “Ever wanted to be a pirate?”

Pike let out a burst of laughter at his ridiculousness, but the blush on her cheeks also deepened when she realised what exactly he was saying.

Oh shit. He was asking her to stick around. Wasn’t he?

“How so?” she asked, her voice quivering lightly, “Do you have an opening?”

“We could certainly use someone with your kind of magnificent mind,” he flirted.

Pike laughed again. “You’re laying it on thick. Scared I’ll run off to the enemy?”

Scanlan glanced at the other pirate captain from the corner of his eyes. “I don’t think he could woo you away from me, exactly.”

Pike smiled, but then tried to wrap her head around the idea properly. “I’ve never considered becoming a pirate before,” she muttered, and she looked over the ship’s deck to see what she would find there.

There were the twins, who were not even hiding that they were watching them and listening in on the entire conversation. They looked excited and pleased, and Pike figured they would have no objections to her joining the crew. Even the bear seemed to be anticipating something. Keyleth, who was helping people with her bandages as she had been, had a warm smile on her face, and Pike knew instinctively that she could really use a friend. The white-haired human wasn’t paying attention. He was meticulously cleaning his gun. She remembered the darkness that had so briefly overtaken him, and she knew, just as instinctively, that there was something she could do here. If Sarenrae allowed it, she could mean something to these people. She could help them.

She looked back at Scanlan in front of her, his impish grin, his flair, and felt the way his hand was trembling slightly underneath hers. She looked into his eyes and there was something there that she had never found before.

She could help him. She could help all of them. And, maybe, they could help her.

Pike took care to bring out her best pokerface. She pursed her lips as though she was thinking this offer over, and she dragged it out just long enough, with a dramatic tension that she was sure Scanlan would be able to appreciate. He was still grinning at her, but she could see that there was something beneath the surface there. He really wanted her to stay.

Something inside of her soared.

“On one condition,” she said finally.

“Anything,” Scanlan told her eagerly, almost greedy for an opportunity to do something to sway her in his favour.

Oh yes. She could be something here.

Pike let her expression break open into a shit-eating grin that almost brought Scanlan right back to the beginning of the fight.

“We have to pick up Grog.”

It was Scanlan’s turn to soar, and he tightened his grip on Pike’s hand unintentionally. “Done.”

Pike laughed, and that sound changed the course of everything, so Scanlan grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, sparking another burst of laughter from her perfect lips, and when he brought her down he kissed both of her cheeks and then her forehead. He lingered there for just a second, and hoped she was able to pick up on just how much this meant to him.

Then they looked at each other, faces close together, and just like the day before, Scanlan felt like she shared all of his secrets. And he wanted to share in all of hers.

[yourjughead]

Princess and the Pea

Pairings: ReaderxSweetPea

A/N: she cute also honestly this is my favorite fic name ever.

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

“hey honey you lost?”

“Emmm”

“You look pretty lost to me” Fangs began circling, a shark in the water and your guts have just been spilled.

“I'm just looking for my friend-”

“Let me guess, Jughead Jones?” he interrupted you and you nodded. You had agreed to meet Jug outside his trailer after school. He was late as usual and you found yourself wandering around the trailer park, stumbling into a group of Junior Serpents.

“He seems to love dragging Northsiders to us, such a giving boy. New play things are hard to come by” his grin was twisted and it made your blood curdled. You slowly began to back away but were stopped in your tracks with the feeling of a weight against your back.

“Feel a bit astray Princess?” You turned to the source of the voice you recognised as Sweet Peas. You two had had a view encounters before. He was totally infatuated with you and you were close to feeling the same about him. He looked you up and down and liked all that he saw as usual.

“I'm just looking for Jughead” Sweet Pea pursed his lips to you before Jugheads voice came to the rescue.

“Hey YN what are you doing over here?”

“emm you said we were going to study…”

“Oh yeah…”

“Sounds like he forgot all about you Princess”  you looked at the ground, biting your lip, unbeknownst to you that it was driving Sweet Pea a little crazy in doing so.

“No no I didn't yn we can-”

“-We can all hang out Princess?” Sweet pea interrupted Jughead.

“That's okay, I'm just going to go” you threw Jughead a look before pushing through the group, arms folded, head down away from the gang.

“We're in an awful rush Princess aren't we?” Sweet Pea jogged to catch up. You felt slightly hurt that Jughead hadn't been the one to follow you instead.

“Stop calling me that” you dug your hands deeper into your sides, the dim light of the park and his presence alone made you on edge.

“Oh have I displeased her majesty?” He went to put his arm around you but you caught it in it's motion, twisting it back on itself causing him to wince. You released pressure with a jerk at seeing the slight pain you caused him. Your pace quickened.

“Okay, do not touch the Princess, got it” his huge stride caught up with you outside your car easily, a grin painted on his face.

“Look I don't want any trouble”

“Ah yes because this is the South Side and I'm a Serpent so I must want trouble right?” His grin grew as you ran your tongue across your teeth. You went to open your car door but he closed it again instantly with one hand, giving you a fright. Sweet Pea closed the gap between you and your lower back pressed against the car, you were stuck between the two.

“Come on Princess, take a walk on the wild side” he tilted his head closer to yours, a devilish smirk grew as ever. Your faces were mere millimeters apart, he could almost feel your heartbeat quicken with the shrinking distance.

“Don't touch the Princess” you returned the smirk pushing him back from you.

“Now who is causing trouble your Majesty” you winked, slipping into the car and driving off into dusk.

~

You spent the following week thinking about your encounter with the Serpent. It was driving you crazy and you kept it to yourself. It was different to how he usually would address you, more intent in his words. You thought this was what Sweet Pea had wanted, to torture you and so elected to force it out of your mind.

Jughead had waited till Friday to try and rearrange a study date with his best friend.

You pulled up outside the trailer park, Friday night settling in. You decided to text him to come out and meet you to avoid running into anyone. You wound down the window, sounded the horn once or twice before firing the text.

You exhaled your frustration loudly, throwing your head against the rest, squeezing your eyes shut.

“He's just not that into you Princess, time to move on” your eyes flew open and landed on Sweet Pea leaning against the entrance of the park, sporting his trademark jacket and smirk to match. He pushed his back from the chain metal and sauntered over.

“Ohh that's rough” he replied to reading the texts after taking the phone from your hand which you promptly snatched it back.

“Well I have to go..”

“Back to the castle?”

“Why do you think I live in a castle?”

“All Northsiders do, you can't help it Princess, comes with the privilege”

“Get in the car”

“Oh help I'm being abducted by a Northsider” he mimicked before jumping into the seat next to you. You drove across the bridge back to the Northside and you could almost feel Sweet Pea tense next to you. You dragged the car around the corners with speed, feeling the gearbox wear and tear with every turn.

“What's wrong Sweets? Uncomfortable?” You laughed.

“Don't call me Sweets”

“Don't call me princess” he scoffed at your reply. You finally stopped driving when you reached the top of the hillside to a look out point.

“I thought it was the dodgey gang member who was supposed to lead the girl next door to the woods to be murdered”

“Eh, switch it up a bit” ye sat in the car looking down at Riverdale moulding together, north and south were one.

“That's where I live there” you pointed to a row of houses, neatly lining the road below.

“Huh, of course the storybook girl lives on storybook lane” he scoffed.

“It's just me and my brother” you barely whispered and he raised an eyebrow.

“Mom ran out on us and dad...dad never really recovered...thats all im going to say about him” you didn't break eye contact with the row of seemingly perfect houses.

“Next door is Archie, he comes from divorced parents, not an amicable divorce might I add... Across from us is Betty, her family is crazier than a box of spiders, sister ran away from it...her boyfriend is the guy who was murdered...over there is where Kevin lives, his parents aren't together, he doesn't talk about his mom but it's only because it's bad between them emmm Cheryl Blossom lives over there, need I say more about her…” you pointed out the houses of your friends as you went, Sweet Pea tentatively listening.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“So maybe you'll stop calling me Princess, there's nothing fairytale about this place”

“You want to leave Princess?”

“More and more every passing day Sweets”

“Me too” he waited a moment before weighing in and his reply caught you off guard.

“Not happy being a Serpent?”

“I mean I am, they're my family and they'd kill me for even thinking like this….or talking to you but-” he stopped to looked down at his feet. You enjoyed seeing him slightly more vulnerable, he was less mouthy. You put your hand on his and looked at him reassuringly. The unfamiliar feeling of support was confusing for Sweet Pea and I think you knew it.

“-its just no life for a kid, I want to take my kids away from Riverdale...I mean I want to teach them about their Serpent roots and I want them to proud of it all of course but that doesn't mean I want them to live it…”

“Careful Sweets you almost seemed human there” you smirked and he chuckled softly.

“It is really adorable you think about those things though…”

“Please don't think of me as adorable, I'd rather you just keep calling me Sweets” he laughed and you returned the same, leaning into him, still holding his hand.

“We'll get out some day Princess….but right now we should probably get back...people might actually think you abducted me” he attempted a smile. This was a new feeling you felt for the world weary boy.

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

Much love Xx

[chogiwakeupsheeple]

(Crappy GIF made by me, please do not use without permission!)

Chapter 2/?   Words: 3507  

AN: Hello my lovely followers! (which there is almost a hundred of now holy hell??) I just wanted to quickly say thanks for supporting me :3 even just one message saying they like my stuff keeps me going, so please, never hesitate to drop by to talk or..scream? <3

Anyway here is chapter two of S.L. Noire! I don’t really like the ending but I didn’t have better ideas so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I hope you enjoy it! <3

The night was long and dark; the faint sound of droplets on the window being the only reminder that you were actually awake. Your bed was cold yet you wanted no one to warm it; your dark thoughts were your only company. Everyone has their demons, some more dark than others. The thought danced through your mind as you took a drag on your cigarette, before letting your hand fall back down the edge of the bed. The feeling filled your lungs and numbed you until you had to exhale. It was nice to lay in the darkness, you thought. The wind howled outside, resembling a weeping woman searching the streets for her lost child. The sound was familiar. Smoke rose up to your face as you put out the cigarette; its harsh smell only made you more awake.

The clock on your nightstand told you it was already four thirty-three, yet you hadn’t gotten a single hour of sleep. Not even the most imaginative of people could make the grey ceiling interesting; it was just a cold block of cement like the rest of the building. Your room was sparsely decorated with only a bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a mirror filling the space. It was foolish and useless to decorate or make it personal, you had been told. You could never know when it was time to pull up roots and run. That either meant that you’d leave a lot of valuable stuff behind or that the police had something to identify you with. Or both. If the latter were to happen, you could rest assured that you would be left behind. Every man for himself - nothing personal.

A clatter downstairs caught your attention. Maybe a stray cat or a homeless seeking shelter, or perhaps you had finally gone crazy. Despite your young age, you had seen more things in the years staying in this place than most people see in a lifetime. You had seen enough to make most people escape at first chance, but that had never been an option for you. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of it; you had spent countless nights wondering what would happen if you simply just.. left. There was a time where you saw the world in black and white; there were good people and there were bad people. When you met them, your new family, you realised that those were just foolish thoughts of a young and innocent girl. As time went by you began seeing the world in shades of grey and black; no white. Sometimes good people do bad stuff, and bad people seem kind. You often wondered if those around you were good or bad, but it turned out trying to put them into boxes was an impossible task.

The floor felt cold against you naked feet as you got down to investigate. Your nightgown wrapped around your curves beautifully; Its dark red colour stood in contrast to your pale skin like blood on snow. You threw on a silk robe out of habit, but the cold didn’t actually bother you that much. The stairs creaked as you tiptoed your way down. You swore the old planks of wood would break under you one day. You rounded the corner to the kitchen, although kitchen was hardly the word for a rundown cafeteria, used by warehouse workers before it was abandoned. ‘’June..’’ you spoke softly. The man, who had turned out to be the source of the noise, turned around to greet you with a smile. ‘’Couldn’t sleep?’’ he asked with a sigh, although he probably knew the answer already. Some nights your bed was too cold and your thoughts were too dark, and that often led you into his arms. The warmth from his body and his relaxed breathing calmed you down more often than not. ‘’How do you do it?’’ you had asked him one night, with your head on his chest. ‘’Do what?’’ he had answered. ‘’Sleep while knowing you’ve destroyed someone’s life.’’ You never got an answer. The reply was caught in his throat and died on his tongue along with many other words he wished he had said. Instead he kissed your forehead and ran his fingers through your hair until he eventually fell asleep, leaving you awake.

‘’No, I couldn’t,’’ you finally answered after studying his form. Although his smile was both contagious and sincere, it also managed to send a dagger through your heart. It reminded you of a time where laughing was a luxury he couldn’t afford, and where happiness was punishable. If anyone in this crooked world deserved to be happy it was him, you thought as he enthusiastically shook a can of beans and an egg in front of you. ‘’I’m making breakfast,’’ he stated, ‘’care to join me?’’ You couldn’t remember the last time you had had proper breakfast, yet alone eaten with any of the members, so you quickly nodded. You stepped besides him as he continued cooking, carefully putting your shead on his shoulder. You were almost hypnotized by the movement of his hands as he cracked the eggs onto a pan; so caught up in the nothingness of your mind that you barely registered June’s question. ‘’Did a nightmare keep you from sleeping?’’ he inquired, but you didn’t know how to answer. You suppose you could call life itself a nightmare, in that case, yes that was indeed what was keeping you awake. ‘’June..’’ you started, but it was like the rest of the words refused to leave your throat. He turned to look at you with worried eyes. ‘’Look Y/N, if-’’

‘’Did he have a family?’’ you finally blurted out, interrupting him mid sentence.

‘’Pardon?’’

‘’Mr. Park.. Park Chanyeol, our last victim.. Did you find portraits of a wife? pictures of children?’’

June sighed, finally realising what you were on about. He knew you well enough to know why you were asking, and he loved you enough to give you the answer you needed. ‘’No, as far as we could tell he had no one in his life. He’ll be fine, he’ll have earned enough money to buy back what we stole from him within a month,’’ he answered, pulling you into a tight hug, ‘’don’t worry.’’ But you did worry. How could you not? Mr. Park may have been wealthy enough to survive after a burglary, but you knew that that wasn’t always the case. How many men had you fooled by now: ten? fifty? a hundred? You had lost count, but all of them gnawed at you and served as a reminder for your sins.

The two of you sat across from each other at a small table, silently eating June’s cooking. ‘’What was on the note Monster gave you?’’ he suddenly blurted out, causing you to almost choke on your food in surprise. ‘’Sorry,’’ he continued, ‘’I just couldn’t help but notice you two talking, and I’m guessing it wasn’t a love letter or something of the sorts.’’ Monster hadn’t explicitly told you to keep it secret, but most of his orders didn’t come in the form of words: they came with the way he looked at you. Did you dare interpreting his gaze as his approval or did you keep the details of your mission secret?. ‘’I’m not sure I can tell you, June’’ you muttered into your coffee mug. ‘’I won’t tell anyone if you don't’’ he laughed in response. Ah, fuck it, might as well take the chance.  

And so you told him the content of the small lap of paper. Today’s mission was a little different from the usual; for you at least. Park Jinyoung, your next target, was more than just a gullible, lonely man whose home was going to be ransacked: he was a journalist. And a dangerous one at that. He had been investigating your group for a while, trying to catch you and make the front page. Luckily, you had all been invisible enough for him to not know any of your faces, making it possible for you to get close to him without getting recognised. The one face he did know though, was one that could cause all of you trouble, should he get exposed. Waiting outside a pawnshop, known for its relations to the crime world, was Jinyoung, ready to snap a picture of Monster selling stolen goods. Tragically, he succeeded and now had proof that he was involved in illegal activities. And that’s where you came into the picture. Monster knew that Jinyoung always carried the pictures on his person, in fear of getting them stolen. While the others stripped his apartment of anything valuable, your job wasn’t just to distract him, but to get those pictures. ‘’I don’t care if you have to hit him with a frying pan or sleep with him, just get the pictures by any means necessary’’ Monster had told you after Jack and June had left the previous night.

‘’Wow’’ June uttered in shock, ‘’I didn’t realise he was in that much trouble.’’ You couldn’t exactly blame him for not noticing. A strong leader never shows his weak sides, and you knew that if he could’ve dealt with the issue himself, he would’ve. As a woman with no future you had instantly recognized a man with a past. He had been thrown to the wolves, only to come back as pack-leader, and his scars made him stronger than most. He had lost more than most people have to begin with. He had nothing to lose, no one to fear, and that’s what made him dangerous. That’s what made him a good leader, and none of you could afford to lose him. ‘’I have to get those pictures’’ you stated with a voice full of determination. June had finished the last of his food and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, sending you a smirk behind his hand. ‘’With a beautiful girl like yourself, he probably won’t mind you getting a little handsy. You’ll have those pictures before he can realise what’s happening’’ he laughed, and you laughed with him. It felt great to truly smile for the first time that night.

‘’Do you have a plan?’’ he asked while washing the dishes. You shook your head at first, not realising he had his back to you. ‘’No idea’’ you quickly added upon noticing. You knew how important it was to get them, but neither sexual endeavors nor physical violence appealed to you. Instead you thought it was safest to try what you do best: listening and talking. ‘’I’ll just see what happens I guess’’ you concluded, to which June let out an approving hum. Once done with cleaning, he stepped besides you and pulled you up into an embrace, rubbing small circles into your back. ‘’Just promise me you’ll be safe’’ he muttered into your neck. You let out the breath you didn’t even realise you had been holding and went limp, letting his strong arms hold you up. You could promise him no such thing, but hearing the hurt in his voice made you utter the lie anyway. ‘’I promise.’’

The car was filled with the smoke from Jack’s cigar. You sat in the passenger seat, nervously fiddling with the bottom of your dress, next to Monster who had been driving. He gave you a nod, silently telling you to go ahead and step into the dirty alley. You nodded in response, assuring him you’d get what you needed. ‘’Good luck’’ M called after you as you stepped out of the car. They drove away, leaving you in the cold to make your way to the bar you knew so well. You pulled out the lap of paper one last time, staring at the name written on it. It stared back at you mockingly, and you couldn’t help but feel ominous about the whole thing. To say you looked gorgeous that night would be an understatement; you looked irresistible. But a question still remained: would he even care?

You set foot in the crowded bar and looked around. You recognised a few of the faces: criminals mostly, or people you shouldn’t ever come close to. The description you had gotten of the man you were going to meet was vague. Dark hair, Korean, uses dialect, young and average in height. So basically every other man in there. You walked to the bar to ask the bartender if perhaps he had seen someone who stood out. Just as you were about the open your mouth, a pair of warm hands gently grabbed your shoulders. You quickly turned around and raised a hand, getting ready to smack whoever was touching you. Friendly eyes met yours as the man before you grabbed your wrist, successfully stopping you from hitting him. ‘’Do you usually hit your dates?’’ he laughed. He had a thick dialect, you noted; this must be him. ‘’Do you usually sneak up on yours?’’ you fired back, earning you another laugh as he shook his head. He had a cute laugh, you added to your ever growing repertoire of notes.

He let go of your wrist and bowed slightly in respect. ‘’I’m Jinyoung, and you must be Y/N’’ he stated. ‘’Mm’’ you simply answered, mirroring his gesture. After the initial greeting, he put his hand on the small of your back to push you in the direction of one of the more secluded booths in the back. You let him lead you, feeling surprisingly light, as if you were floating. Your heart was pounding so hardly you swore you could almost hear it. This night was different. Not just because you had to steal something from him, but because for the first time in forever, the touch of a stranger didn’t feel painful against your skin. The look in his eyes as you both sat down neither screamed lust nor desperation. He merely looked like a man, showing genuine interest in the woman across from him. You weren’t used to that. ‘’So, Jinyoung, what do you do for a living?’’ you asked, although you already knew the answer. One of the hardest parts of the job was pretending like you didn’t already know who he was. Some small part of you wished you truly didn’t know him; he was a man you could imagine meeting in another life. ‘’I’m a freelance journalist’’ he answered proudly, ‘’I’m currently working on a story about the infamous group of criminals called The Promised Ones.’’

The promised ones, you thought to yourself, is that what the public calls us. You hummed in interest, acting like you had never heard of said group. You rested your head in your hand, leaning slightly across the table, exposing enough cleavage to hopefully warm him up to your presence. ‘’What about you?’’ he asked. Your eyes widened. You weren’t used to actually being asked; most men didn’t care about anything but your face and body. ‘’Uhm,’’ you started. How does one answer that question. I’m a swindler that distracts lonely men while my accomplices ransacks their homes and strips them of everything valuable. That would never work. ‘’I’m an assistant’’ you finally settled on, your throat turning dry. Jinyoung noticed and winked at you. ‘’Don’t worry, I ordered drinks before you got here, they should be here any minute’’ he explained. You awkwardly laughed out a thanks and dropped your gaze to your hands. You were feeling awfully self conscious, as if the usual flirtatious and daring part of you had been dropped outside in the rain. And true enough, not long after, a small woman came and placed two glasses in front of you before leaving. You almost downed all of its contents in one go, hoping to drown your nerves. ‘’Whoa there, didn’t realise my company was that nerve wracking’’ he joked as he took a sip himself. You nearly choked on the liquid and got thrown into a coughing fit because of it. ‘’It’s not that...you’re actually..surprisingly sweet..’’ you managed to get out through coughs.

Something between worry and doubt crossed Jinyoung’s face, but it left as soon as it arrived. ‘’If you consider common courtesy sweet, then I won’t dare to think about the behaviour of your past dates’’ he muttered with an unreadable anger lingering behind his words. You hadn’t actually thought about that. You had always been too focused to make sure the men you were tricking were distracted, and the easiest way to do that was to simply say and do what they wanted. ‘’I’m glad I’ve finally met a respectful man like you then’’ you smiled, once you had finally gained control over your cough. ‘’Cheers to that’’ he laughed, holding up his glass. You lifted yours too and the two of you clinked drinks while catching each other’s gaze.

Once the first hour had passed, you knew stuff about him you didn’t know beforehand, and he knew stuff about you. Stuff about the real you.  During the second hour you talked about everything and nothing, simply enjoying each other’s presence and gaining energy from watching the other smile. It wasn’t until you reached the third hour and your fourth drink that you realised you were slowly breaking your most important rule; you were getting attached. Jinyoung was in the middle of telling a funny story when the same waitress as before came over and interrupted him. ‘’I just talked to the boss of a Y/N and he asked me to leave a message.’’ She handed you a note with shaky hands and quickly left before you could ask questions. ‘’Excuse me’’ you apologized while unfolding and reading the message.

‘You got what you needed? Come out and meet us as soon as you can’

You looked up at Jinyoung with remorseful eyes. You were stupid to think this could ever work, you were just drunk and needy of attention. At least that’s what you told yourself. ‘’Everything okay?’’ he asked, leaning across the table to put his hand above yours. You didn’t know what was so special about him, but every time he touched you a spark traveled from your skin to your heart, making it flutter. He was handsome, smart, kind and most of all he seemed to actually care about you. You hadn’t experienced something like this in years and it made the feeling all the more powerful. ‘’I’m so sorry, I’ve just been called to a work emergency - I have to go’’ you sobbed, sounding less convincing than intended.

He stood up and offered you his hand, dragging you up to meet you face to face. You felt his breath on your skin and you wanted nothing more to stay here with him, but you knew how foolish that was. This would be the first and last you saw him, and while you’d return to your old life, he’d return home to a broken one. A small tear escaped your eye as you leaned up to place your lips upon his. He was soft and warm so when he licked your bottom lip, you happily let him in. The way his hands felt on your hips and the way he hummed into the kiss felt almost too perfect, and it made your entire world spin. You slowly ran your hand across his chest and under his jacket. With careful fingers you wandered into his breast-pocket, successfully getting a hold of the pictures inside it. You hid them behind your back and forced yourself to pull away from the kiss. ‘’See you around?’’ he asked with hope in his voice. You hated lying, you really did. It seemed like your life was filled with empty promises and sweet lies; it made you sick. ‘’Yes’’ you answered, trying to force a smile. You desperately wanted that to be true, but you knew better than to get your hopes up. With one last peck on his lips, you left the bar with hasty steps, not daring to look back.

In just a few hours you had managed to break your ‘’no attachment’’ rule and fall in love, just to steal from him and leave him behind. When you entered the car you didn’t dare looking into the eyes of your group. They asked how it went, but you simply threw the pictures onto Monster’s lap in response. They all celebrated with hoots and laughs, but you weren’t in the mood for celebration. M noticed your silence and tried reading your expression, but to no avail. Monster proudly shook your shoulder and thanked you; a rare gesture from his side. Yet you didn’t even look up. The rain outside had finally stopped and stars painted the night sky. Droplets of water was now replaced with the tears running down your cheeks. Your bleeding heart sank deeper and deeper as the car drove into the night. You had finally done it: you had managed to fuck up big time.

[littlehastingsliar]

Stronger- Theo imagine- part 2

Request: artfuck said:

Can you do a part two to stronger? Please it's so good

A/N: I wasn’t intending on doing a part two so I’m sorry if it’s not very good xx enjoy!

Words: 1676

part one is here

“How am I going to do that?” you questioned. You had no clue where to begin even if you’d adapted to this new world remarkably fast.

“That’s what we’re going to figure out.” Theo mused. “First things first, you’re going to have to learn how the hide the wings.” He walked over so he was opposite you.  

“I don’t know how” you blushed. He smiled at you, his fingers reaching out to touch the feathers. Subconsciously you tensed your back, the wings fluttering in response to the contact. With admiration, Theo turned his attention back to your rosy cheeks.

“Try doing that again.” he urged in a supportive tone. You nodded your head, a look of concentration etched onto your face. You furrowed your brow as you strained. Yet nothing happened. You stomped your foot in frustration. “It’s ok. Just try again. It might take some getting used to.” You inhaled deeply, taking in the aroma of Theo’s cologne. Closing your eyes again, you contracted the muscle in your back. You felt the air move around each feather as they fluttered once again, becoming part of you.

“I did it!” you cheered, turning to look at your wings move in the reflection at the water’s edge. You forgot how big the wings spanned, causing Theo to swiftly dodge them as you spun. “sorry.” You laughed, getting the hang of shifting your wings. Theo crossed his arms, fond of your enthusiasm.

“Now try and make them disappear completely.” With new found confidence you centred all of your attention on making them vanish. Sure enough they retracted away into your back as if they never existed. “wow.” Theo was impressed, never having seen an angel before. He couldn’t help but think how perfect you looked, both with wings and without. “May I?” Theo motioned to your back, wanting to see the area where the wings once were. You turned your back to him shyly, moving your hair out of the way. He returned to the close proximity you were in before and lifted up the fabric of your top, his fingertips skimming over your skin. You shivered uncontrollably, Goosebumps appearing on your arms as the electricity from his touch surged through you. Your heart beat faster as his thumbs ran over the exact location of what was the stem of your wings.

“Is there anything there?” you asked in a shaky voice. Theo let your top fall back down, his hands on your hips to rotate you around. His left arm was around your lower back, so you were almost pressed flush against him.

“Absolutely nothing there.” Theo responded after a few moments silence. He let you go, instructing you to follow him as he led you to his pack. Over the next few weeks you stayed in a secluded house with Theo’s pack.

They welcomed you in a surprisingly warm manner, all fascinated by what you were. You spent hours during that time researching what you could do, from books to the internet.

The first power you discovered instantly since it seemed to be the one most supernatural beings had. Heightened senses. Tracy had asked you pretty much straight away and to test it she went to a separate room to have a conversation with josh. You found her voice almost straightaway, confirming that you too had the super senses.

The second power you stumbled upon by complete accident. You had been asleep and unbeknownst to you, you were dream walking; you could enter other people’s dreams. Unwillingly, you had stumbled into Theo’s dream, your unconscious mind connecting with his. The dream was horrific. Theo was being held somewhere dark. You could hear screams all around you. Theo was cowering on the floor in a state of helplessness you’d never witnessed before from him. Protectively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He recognised your fragrance and melted into your embrace. You had woken up the next morning and headed downstairs to tell Theo about the dream. He marvelled at the similarities between your and his dream and it was at that moment you realised dream walking was your second ability.

The third gift was one you had been studying. You hadn’t told anyone it was a possibility, wanting it to be a surprise. You spent time alone practicing. When the time was right you headed downstairs to the kitchen, well aware everyone was in the living room.

“Guys can you come in here.” you called out impersonating Hayden. They entered the kitchen, shocked when they saw you instead of her.

“What was that?!” Corey called out to you.

“What was that?!” you copied, laughing afterwards. Your voice sounded identical to whoever you wanted it to. And so your powers of voice mimicry were the source of entertainment for the pack for many nights after.

The fourth power was unearthed due to your frustration. Josh had been playing a game for hours and the noise was driving you crazy. You had told him to turn it down multiple times but he hadn’t conformed. You couldn’t fathom how you were supposed to develop your angel skills with all that distraction around. After seemingly hours of trying to ignore it, you reached the end of your tether. Slamming the book you were reading down, you stood up from your chair. The anger coursing through your body caused your wings to spread out. As you stared at the josh the controller in his hand started to spark. He jumped back, throwing the controller forward. The spark travelled down the lead to the console, turning it off. Peace filled the room and for the first time that day, you could concentrate. Although you felt slightly bad for josh, you were proud you managed to harness the power of electronic manipulation.

The fifth and the final power you had learnt with no trouble. You had encountered them one day when Theo had sent Tracy off on a mission. She hadn’t reported back when she should have, and everyone was getting worried.

“Should we go look for her” Corey asked his alpha. You turned to watch Theo’s reply, yet your mind drifted to the energy you could feel in the room. You could sense the concern on everyone, some people radiating it worse than others. Uncovering your power of empathy was as simple as that. Deciding it was not the time to shout about what you could do, you continued to focus on Tracy.

“We should give her a short while longer, then we can go look for her.” Theo ordered. Everyone glanced at each other as if they were about to question their leader. But they obeyed and watched the second hand tick in anticipation.

“She’s heading home.” You blurted out, your eyes fogged over, almost completely masking their usual colour. You could see her walking down the path to the house, a few cuts and bruises although nothing seriously wrong. The pack looked at you in amazement, catching your attention as you returned to the room. “That was weird.” You commented timidly. Theo beamed at you as you had discovered the power of localization.

After the few weeks passed and you’d come to grips with the powers, Theo decided it was time to hatch a plan against your bullies. Together you devised a strategy to scare them, not having let go of everything they had done to you.

You located lulu and dean, rolling your misted eyes as you saw them on a date. You knew they were the ‘shepherds’ of the group, the others just went along with what they did, so you only wanted to target them.

“They’re together. This should be easy.” You smirked deviously. You had a new confidence about you since you were turned into a chimera. A confidence Theo loved on you. You were the same girl you always were, but less afraid to be open to the world about whom you really are.

You drove to the empty area of town where they were, thankful nobody was around to witness what you were doing. You and Theo crept into a back alley as you watched them walk hand in hand down the street. They were laughing with each other, sickly laughs you had heard way too often for your liking. You glared at the street lamp they were about to walk under, squinting a fraction.

The light exploded above them, shattering. They screamed, running out of the way. They ran to the other side of the rode, clinging to each other. As soon as they reached the other side, you exploded the closest street light to them. They sprinted forward and again you used your powers. They ran back on themselves and you giggled. Theo chuckled too, watching you herd them like cattle.

Every time they reached a car, you’d set the car alarm off. You followed them through town in the shadows, sensing their fear and panic. It gave you a feeling of twisted satisfaction. You continued until they were in a busier area of town where you had to stop.

“Are you ok?” Theo asked, judging you’re worn out state.

“Yes. It’s just using my powers so much is tiring. It feels good to get some kind of revenge.” You remarked, both mentally and physically drained.

“We can do more if you like” Theo offered, taking your hand in his. He wanted to get revenge himself, privately.

“No. that’s enough. I won’t let them mess with me again but I don’t want to torment them anymore. If it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be what I am now.” Theo shook his head at you. “What?” you probed self-consciously.

“Even though they made your life a living hell, you don’t really want to hurt them. You got a taste of revenge and decided to forgive them.”

“Is that a bad thing?” the light in the nearest shop flickered as you questioned your judgement.

“No it’s refreshing.” Theo pecked you on the cheek and you headed home to the pack.

[robertbrice33]

Are Driving Lessons Essential? The No Fluff Guide to the Gentle Art of Gas Control!

Learner Drivers come in all shapes and sizes and with often pre-conceived ideas as to what is required and how long it might take to get up to speed so to speak! For many, getting up to speed is no problem at all; after all, all you gotta do is press like blazes on the gas pedal and hope that nothing gets in your way!

By the way while we tend to call the gas pedal the Accelerator in UK. and Ireland, which is where this treatise is coming from, most Driving Schools now use the term "Gas Pedal " since it is short, sweet and to the point! It is so short in fact that if your Instructor is out of breath, reading the paper or talking about the weather, all he or she has to do in order to maintain some forward motion is to bellow just the one word. GAS! Very economic and an instantly recognisable command!

"Get on the Gas" ..."Get off the Gas"..." More Gas" ..."Less Gas" or preferably just ...GAS! These will be phrases that the Learner will become attuned to frequently while being trained by the friendly neighbourhood Driving Instructor. Knowing when and more importantly, when not to step on the Gas is an integral part of Learning to Drive. It is going to become even more important from now on due to the ever increasing cost of fuel and the ever increasing time spent in traffic jams!

While there have been many myths about Learning to drive and the need or otherwise of Driving Lessons, perpetuated over the years, one such myth does ring true however. And that is that taking lessons from Mum or Dad (Mom 'n Pop outside of Europe!) is the quickest way to create an Ice Age and a Nuclear Winter scenario in the normally tranquil environment of today's 2.2 Litre Nuclear family.

Dads, particularly, are not renowned for their patience, especially when trying to coax their Daughters to get a move on! I should know, and I should also know better, since we are coaching our Daughter right now! It is Labour of Love rather than a relaxing afternoon's drive! Practise makes perfect or so they say but They didn't give any pointers to those of us unfortunate to be both Dads AND Driving Instructors!

In the crazy world of Driving Today when more and more Learners take to the road every minute, it has become absolutely essential to enlist the services and expertise of a Driving School. We are not talking about the Driving Test here since that requires another 1000 pages but the need to build on a sound foundation of Driving Skills and Advanced Awareness without which a driving career can often be over before it has started!

Driving Lessons need to be taken at the outset to create substance on which skills are built. Driving Lessons only taken just before a Driving Test may have the desired effect on the day but what happens subsequently? The first two years AFTER passing the Driving Test are the most crucial and a huge proportion of Learner Drivers experience the embarrassment and financial heartache of serious accidents during this time. These can be avoided almost entirely if the Learner Driver takes sufficient Lessons at the outset.

It is often argued that Driving Lessons are expensive and prohibitive but the cost of the fallout from accidents, even relatively minor ones, is far in excess of a good course of lessons

Learner Drivers are really only concerned initially with the Driving Test, with a few exceptions. Driving Instructors are really only concerned initially with Skills for Life and teasing out (with some difficulty) an awareness of the dangers involved in sitting in the driving seat. Finding a balance and a smooth path through these apparently contrasting mind sets is really the greatest challenge for a Driving Instructor. The need to give Driving Lessons to those that are not really interested and who are blissfully unaware of the dangers is something that Governments the world over at the present time are grappling with.

The realisation that young Learner Drivers will always think the same way unless shown another more realistic approach to safety and long life behind the wheel, backed up by well enforced regulations, is gathering momentum. Legislation in Ireland covering all aspects of Learning to Drive, Driving Lessons, Driving Tests AND Driving Schools has been backed up for several years but is now seeing the light of day and the next year or so is set to be momentous in this explosive environment.

If you want to take driving lessons in Leeds or to pass your driving test quickly, then the best route to take is through an intensive driving course in Leeds. We have weekly courses available, and you could soon have your very own driving licence in as little as 2 weeks. We have a selection of female driving instructors in Leeds with special offers in Leeds, but you need to be quick - offers end at the end of the month!

Article Source: Read More Here

Are Driving Lessons Essential? The No Fluff Guide to the Gentle Art of Gas Control! https://www.turnroundmarketing.com/are-driving-lessons-essential-the-no-fluff-guide-to-the-gentle-art-of-gas-control/