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maracujatangerine · 3 years ago

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55. Autumn Market

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe

“Hm!”

Brutus stepped out in front of Lydia with a deep-throated sound somewhere between a harrumph and a growl.

A young teenage boy was barrelling towards them. He looked back over his shoulder, joking with his mates. He didn’t notice that he was on a collision course until he bounced off Brutus’ broad chest. The guard dog was glaring down at him.

“Um… sorry?” The boy volunteered nervously.

“Thank you, Brutus.” Lydia said lightly. “It is all fine now.” She stepped up to his side, taking his arm with a smile.

The guard dog blinked down at her, surprise writ large all over his face. His stance changing from threatening to humble, almost cowering. The boy took the chance to scram.

“Well done.” Lydia said. “That was very helpful.” The muscular man gave her a hesitant smile and puffed out his chest in pride. Lydia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. That could have been a disaster, but all went well. It was funny, watching Brutus, he was so expressive with his body language. Just like Cory.

Looking over at Coriander, he illustrated her point, looking completely crestfallen. When he noticed her looking at him, he quickly rearranged his features to a neutral expression. On a guess, Lydia handed her basket to Brutus and reached out her free arm to Coriander.

“Come on, Cory.”

With a quick step, he was at her side and offered his arm. Walking between them, arm in arm, Lydia surreptitiously glanced at Cory a while later, and noticed with satisfaction that he was smiling a little to himself.

It was a beautiful, blue sky day. The trees had begun shifting their colours into brilliant red and yellow and there was a little bit of a bite in the air.

Lydia congratulated herself for choosing to wear her thick, grey sweater with a white pattern and her fuchsia pink scarf. Cory had a dark red sweater with a blue scarf and Brutus his leather jacket. Wayland hadn’t sent him a scarf, so Lydia had lent him a green one. The fluffy scarf clashed with the guard dog’s kind of severe outfit, but he had accepted it gratefully. As far as Lydia was concerned, warm was better than stylish.

“Do you guys feel warm enough?” She asked. Both Cory and Brutus nodded.

There was a lot of people milling around under the trees next to the lake. Market stalls with awnings in a mishmash of green, blue, red, yellow and white snaked around the path and prospective shoppers wandered around looking at the wares on offer.

“If you want to buy anything, just let me know.” Lydia said, knowing as she said it that it was extremely unlikely that either of them would ask. Instead, she opened her purse and gave them each a bill. “Here, you can buy whatever you want with this, okay?”

Overlaying the fresh autumn air was the scents of the market. Someone was selling freshly smoked fish, there was a wood fire burning. There was bread baking, sausages frying and a waft of red curry from a food stall. They passed a stall selling a myriad of scented candles, some of their candles lit to demonstrate.

Some stalls sold multicoloured sweets or piles of carrots, cabbages and beetroots. Others had colourful jars of jam or pickled vegetables and bottles of berry and fruit cordials gleaming in the sun. Some displayed knitted mittens, hats and scarves in all colours of the rainbow. One woman was selling pots of chrysanthemums, rows of flowers in shades of lilac, red, white and yellow.

All three of them stared in fascination at some bees busy in a glass hive next to a stall selling locally produced honey.

Lydia stopped to buy three small glass bottles of fresh apple cider from this years harvest. At another stall she picked up some pastries filled with spinach and feta cheese and lastly, a paper bag filled with still warm jam-filled doughnuts.

Leading the way into the park, she stopped next to a maple tree that had begun switching its leaves into a vibrant orange, but that still had plenty of green leaves too. The spot overlooked both the lake and the busy market.

“Thank you, Brutus.” She took back her basket from the guard dog and took out the green-and-blue checkered picnic blanket. “Could you help me spread it out?”

Lydia sat down on the blanket and started to unpack the basket, her new purchases, some fruit, cheese and sandwiches brought from home, cutlery and glasses for the cider.

“Have a seat.” she told the two pets. “Let’s have some food.”

Brutus looked uncertainty to Cory for reassurance. Eating next to her, did his mistress really mean that they were supposed to do that? Coriander, who already had been through this a number of times before, nodded. He knelt down on the blanket and slowly, the guard dog followed suit.

Brutus had slowly relaxed his refusal to eat during the days that had passed. Lydia still had to hand him the food, but he was all right with eating it for himself now.

The food was lovely, the sun still warm and the hubbub of the market a colourful spectacle pleasant to watch from a distance.

After eating, Lydia amused herself with braiding a daisy chain with daisies scattered around in the grass. Cory and Brutus watched her with interest, and with some encouragement from her side, all three of them soon had flower crowns of tightly braided daisies.

It was so cute! She took a photo of both the pets, and a selfie with all three of them, debated sending it to Ceci and Wayland, but just kept it for herself instead.

“I brought us books.” She told them. “If you want to, we could stay here and read for a while in the grass. Cory, here’s yours.”

She had offered him the book a few days before Brutus came, the first time she offered Cory a particular book. Earlier, she had just told him to pick any book he wanted, to no avail.

Lydia had agonised over the choice. She felt that Coriander was in such a fragile state of mind, that she didn’t want to give him a book that could scare him or expose him to something that would make him feel bad. But would it be insulting to offer him a book for children, as if she thought his mind was too simple to grasp the complexities of a more grown up book?

Finally, she had settled on offering him ‘The little white horse’ by Elizabeth Goudge. The book seemed like a safe choice, exciting, but not scary, magical, with no real world connection and a hopeful ending. It did feel dated, in some ways, but she thought that Cory wouldn’t mind. So far, he had been reading it and she hoped it meant that he liked it.

“How about you, Brutus?” She asked. “I brought a few books for you, but I know that not all pets read. Do you know how to read?”

“No, Ma’am.” The guard dog said, shamefaced. “I can read signs and short instructions, but there is no need for me to read longer texts.”

Lydia, slightly regretfully, put down her own portal to galaxies and peoples far away. Luckily, she had anticipated this.

“I brought a book of fairytales from around the world. If you want, I could read out-loud to you - and to Cory too, if he wants.” She smiled. “Fairytales are for adults too, even if we often think they are only for children. There’s a lot of wisdom hidden in them.”

“I… I would like that, Ma’am.”

Sometime later Coriander gathered its courage to ask.

“Miss Lydia, t-this pet would like to buy something from the market. Would it be all right for it to do it by itself?”

Its mistress had looked at it, radiant with surprise and joy.

“Yes!” She had said. “Of course. We will be right here, take as much time as you want.”

It was strange how its mistress seemed to like when it asked for things.

The pet had decided that it wanted to buy a gift for her. After purchasing a deep purple chrysanthemum in a plastic pot, the pet returned back though the market.

Coriander reflected that its mistress had been looking kind of sadly at the pet every now and then during the day. At first it was wondering whether she was comparing the pet to Brutus and thinking that she would have preferred to own him instead.

But she was touching Cory a lot, in nice ways, that didn’t hurt. She petted the pet over the hair, putting a hand on its arm, holding its hand, even, once. Miss Lydia was often touching it, but this seemed more than usual. Almost as if she wanted to reassure herself that the pet was really there.

The pet worried a little, but decided that masters’ ways sometimes were inscrutable. It should just enjoy the extra attention it got from its mistress.

It was a lovely day out.

You guys! I have over 250 followers now! (256 to be exact!) This is so awesome and incredible!

Thank you all for your support! 💐💖

And thank you everyone for all the likes and reblogs, wanting to be on the tag list, asks and comments and all sorts of interaction. I love it so much and it is really amazing to me to see that you like my story and my characters. You are all brilliant and lovely and I appreciate you so much! ❤️

Tag list: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch

#pet whump #pet whumpee #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #box boy multiverse #box boy whump #caretaker #pet-whump #rescue whump #recovery whump #autumn vibes #autumn #conditioned whumpee #lydia and coriander #original writing

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unfortunate-arrow · 2 years ago

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🔥

For any combination of Lynch, Whitten, Pembroke you choose. I love them all.

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

Max Pembroke

Likes: Dogs, blue, pasta, bread, ice cream, autumn, flying, quidditch, dogs, his sisters, being alone, suspenders, boots, cricket

Dislikes: Cats, his mother’s boss, crowds, low grades, rye bread, shepherd’s pie, parties, tightly knotted cravats

Tadhg Lynch

Likes: Blue, bread, cheese, chocolate, autumn, flying, quidditch, his buds, denim, plaid, boots, muggle things

Dislikes: His brother, blood purity, broccoli, wet socks, wet shoes, when his name is spelled wrong or mispronounced, his father

Cillian Lynch

Likes: Green, ham, eggs, butterbeer, winter, thunderstorms, ties, charms, history of magic, black suits, sweater vests, Orla

Dislikes: His brother, his father, broccoli, flying, crowds, people as a whole, failing, ground beef, sausage, yellow, orange

Jack Whitten

Likes: Red, pizza, hot chocolate, butterbeer, summer, Bastille, R.E.M., X Ambassadors, Tom Petty, dinosaurs, dogs, football/soccer, rugby

Dislikes: Quidditch, flying, oranges, mashed potatoes, pink, shepherd’s pie, pineapple pizza, broccoli pizza

Ben Whitten

Likes: Dark blue, ravioli, hot chocolate, autumn, Mumford & Sons, Bastille, Johnny Cash, Of Monsters & Men, dogs, the outdoors, hiking, quidditch

Dislikes: Oranges, shepherd’s pie, crowds, Benny, people fussing over him, yellow, his heart surgery scar (it’s a love-hate thing)

Thea Whitten

Likes: Magenta, baking, spring, Jonas Brothers, One Direction, Ed Sheeran, Bastille, gardening, plants, tulips, roses, quidditch, fashion, family

Dislikes: Weeds, pineapple, football/soccer, shepherd’s pie, coconut, humidity

Jumbo Ask Game

#maxwell pembroke #tadhg lynch #cillian lynch #hphl #hogwarts legacy #jack whitten #benedict whitten #thea whitten #hpma #magic awakened #jumbo ask game: answers

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nikkzwrites · 4 years ago

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Yesterday Once More | Dark Fix-It Fic Series | Chapter 4

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah.

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence, Suicide Mentions, Cutting, Violence.

Word Count: 6.7k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter][Next Chapter]

Black holes are considered to be the hellmouths of the universe. Those who fall inside disappear. Forever. But whereto? What lies behind a black hole? Along with things, do space and time also vanish there? Or would space and time be tied together and be part of an endless cycle? What if everything that came from the past were influenced by the future?

Helge sat in his tree of life chair repeating, “Tick-tock. Tick-tock.” The old man with a damaged eye trying to come to terms with the man standing in the entrance of the caves looking out into Winden.

The forest was still. The town was still until Franziska stormed out of her room. “That sneaky little bitch,” she whispered to herself before she screamed across the house, “Ellie! Where’s my lipstick?!”

This caused both Charlotte and Peter to emerge from their rooms across from each other. They awkwardly greeted each other. Peter explained he was going to stop to see Helge before work. Charlotte nodded and agreed to take Elisabeth to school in that case. Then they both walked to follow their elder daughter to try and break up the fight.

Annalise tossed and turned in her bed. She was still having nightmares, but at least she was trying to sleep on her own. She couldn’t stop getting the images of Mikkel, Erik, the boy the found, and her father out of her head. Everything kept feeling connected and she had no idea why, but her nightmares kept stringing them together in each exaggerated way after the next. Her phone had other plans for her though and started to go off with notifications. Annalise shot up in a cold sweat and panted. She turned slowly to her phone and stared at it. She slowly picked it up to reveal that Bartosz was bothering her about Martha again.

‘I know you are probably shoving some Kahnwald sausage down your throat, but don’t let that be the reason you don’t reach out to Martha. She definitely probably needs you.’ The boy had texted her.

Annalise’s nose scrunched at his lack of decency. She silently thanked him for waking her up from her horrible sleep though. She texted her friend’s boyfriend back with a slight tint of pink across her cheeks, ‘Please don’t assume inappropriate things about me.’ She stood up though and started to get ready for the day.

Jonas stared at the maps of the caves of Winden. It lay there sprawled on his crossed legs. ‘Where is the crossing?’ kept calling to him. He had no idea what this meant, but a part of him felt as though this was very familiar. He decided to fold up the map and put it into his bag.

Elisabeth was reading an astronomy book when her sister yelled at her, “There you are, you stupid cow!” Franziska ripped the book away from her and yelled while signing, “Where is my red lipstick?”

Elisabeth signed back, “I don’t have your stupid lipstick. I’m only eight. I don’t use lipstick.”

Franziska argued, “You may be able to fool those two upstairs with your puppy dog eyes and your pitiful deaf-and-dumb act, but I don’t buy it.”

A coy smile grew on the younger sister’s face as their mother walked in. Charlotte looked to Elisabeth and asked, “Have you packed your backpack? I’ll drive you.” She turned to her older daughter and asked, “Shall I take you too?”

“Am I a baby or what?” Franziska snarked.

Elisabeth signed to her mother, “Because of Mikkel?”

“Yes, because of Mikkel,” the mother signed back.

Elisabeth asked, “Do you know who stole him?”

Charlotte replied, “I won’t discuss police work with you.”

“I don’t like Mikkel,” Elisabeth signed to her mother, “He’s a show-off and a jerk. I don’t really care if he ever comes back.” She crossed her arms and fell back more into the sofa.

Hannah threw her phone down as she smoked in the kitchen. Her legs tucked inside of her red sweater. She smiled seeing Jonas come down the stairs, “Hey!” She cheerfully greeted her son. Annalise had left a little earlier so Hannah was grateful for this time alone with Jonas. “Where are you going,” she asked.

“To school,” Jonas lied.

Hannah shrugged and offered, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can call them.”

“I’m fine,” Jonas told his mother.

Hannah started to rock herself holding in tears, “Jonas?” She then tried to offer, “We could also do something nice together. Just the two of us.”

Jonas stared at his mother. It was such a tempting offer. He rarely had got the opportunity where he could just spend time with her. “Mom,” He complained. He hated this feeling of having to decline the offer, but he needed to see about the map he had found in his father’s studio.

“Okay,” Hannah let the subject drop and allowed him to leave.

Peter sat next to his father in his retirement home. Helge was acting quite strangely. He called his father, “Dad? You can’t keep walking out.”

“I have to tell him,” Helge muttered to himself.

Peter sighed and asked, “Tell who what?”

Helge just repeated, “I have to tell him. It has to stop. It has to stop. It has to...”

Peter reached out his hands and clasped them around his father’s shaking ones. He felt so guilty, but he pushed a little bit and asked, “What has to stop?”

“Tick-Tock,” Helge replied, “Tick-Tock.” Peter pulled away from his father and sighed. He placed his hands in his lap and stared at them. Helge slowly reached out his hand to caress his son’s cheek, “Don’t be sad.”

Jonas walked through the woods trying to get to the caves. He wanted to have enough time where no one would suspect anything so he walked quickly. A sweet almost like a lullaby of a song stopped him though. Someone was singing. He stood there frozen in terror as he just listened to the melodic tune. It was a feminine voice. It was singing in English. He sighed realizing who it was.

Annalise sat on a large rock humming and singing to herself. With the birds chirping all around, she decided she was going to try and sing hoping that Mikkel would hear it and follow it back to her. She closed her eyes as she started,

“Why do birds suddenly appear

Every time you are near?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you

Why do stars fall down from the sky

Every time you walk by?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.”

Leaves crutched and scurried away causing Annalise to stop. She looked towards the noise to see Jonas standing there. Jonas looked at the girl. He knew this wasn’t too far into the sun’s rise, but for some reason, he felt as though the sun was making its way back down to go to sleep. The dewy morning light glistened off of her. He felt as if he had walked into a scene where a guardian angel was trying their best to look after their chosen human. The light from above also cast a darling halo on her hair. Her tender tears rolled down her beautiful face and reflected the distilled light from the canopy of leaves above. Jonas swallowed his hitched breath and asked, “Are you okay?”

Annalise slowly raised her hand to touch her cheek suddenly understanding that she was crying. She swallowed and nodded, “Yeah… I’m just…” She stared up at the leaves above them for a second and said, “I was just singing a song my Bube sang to my Zayde who sang it to my mom who sang it to my dad who sang it to me. It’s one of my favorite songs.”

“Do…” Jonas paused and tried to gain his courage back up again, “Do you want to continue?” He sat down next to the rock so that way they could look up at the beams of sunlight together. His head basically being near her lap level due to the height of the rock.

Annalise nodded and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes again as she started to sing once more.

“On the day that you were born the angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true

So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold And starlight in your eyes of blue.”

Jonas’s eyes closed as he listened to her sing. Her family had the right song to pass down. He leaned his head against the rock.

While singing, Annalise ended up readjusting on the rock to lay on her stomach. She held herself up with her elbows and kicked her legs up into the air, her ankles hooked together, to let them sway with her. Her hands and face not too far from the blond’s head now.

“That is why all the girls in town

Follow you all around

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you”

Annalise slowly absentmindedly gently combing her fingers through the boy’s sand-colored hair. Her eyes closed allowing her heartache about losing Mikkel and her father flow through her crying. Jonas let the tune envelop him and soon found himself humming along. His breathing slowed as a small smile crept across his face. Lost in the moment with each other in the stillness of the forest.

“On the day that you were born the angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true

So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold And starlight in your eyes of blue

That is why all the girls in town

Follow you all around

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.”

Jonas slowly found his voice and sang along with the girl trying his best to not seem too far off. He was about a beat behind, but he still tried and actually got the repeat.

“Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.”

The two sat in quiet while Annalise pulled her hand away from playing with his hair. She turned over onto her back and looked up at the sparkling tree cover around them. Jonas sighed contently. Longing for her contact once more, he leaned his head against the top of her head. It wasn’t too long before he heard the whimpering of Annalise’s soft sobs. He slowly stood up and wiped her tears from her face, “Hey… Annalise.” He waited until she looked at him. Jonas smiled gently and said, “You should do that more often?”

Annalise laughed. She looked up at him with a small smile, “Sing or cry?”

Jonas shrugged, “Both?” He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs once more. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. He left it there as he whispered, “I need to go. Will you be okay?”

Annalise swallowed her sorrow and nodded against his forehead. A small squeaked voice replied to him, “Sure. Yeah.”

Jonas asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” She smiled gently at him and started laughing a little bit.

Jonas pulled away gently and slowly, “What?”

Annalise’s eyes filled with tears, but she wiped them away as she explained, “I used to do the same thing to Mikkel when he was upset because my Zayde and mother did it to me.”

Jonas chuckled and said, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Annalise waved him off as he walked back going to the caves once more.

Jonas took the map out of his bag as soon as he was out of sight of Annalise and made his way to the cave. He looked around now more paranoid hoping that no one had followed him. He looked down at the map then peered upwards once more. He pulled the police line up and walked into it unknowingly being watched by the bearded stranger.

The man looked down at his watch then looked back up towards the caves.

Charlotte knelt in front of her daughter and explained that she was going to be the one to pick her up after school. She noticed her daughter trying to look past her at another young boy. She looked at Elisabeth and asked, “Who’s he?”

“Yasin,” Elisabeth replied, “We’re dating.”

Charlotte stood up a little surprised at what her eight-year-old was telling her, “You are doing what?”

Elisabeth rolled her eyes thinking to herself that she shouldn’t have to explain what that meant to her mother, “Yasin is my boyfriend. That’s how you say it nowadays.”

“Well then…” Charlotte started.

Elisabeth smiled and pulled her mother’s forehead against her own and held Charolette there for a moment before kissing her head and running to meet up with the boy.

“A web of symbols and references runs through the novel,” the professor lectured his literature class. Franziska sat in the front doodling instead of taking notes. “The ‘sycamores by the sea’ are an example of symbolism. A special form of Goethe’s work is what we call doubling. The characters consciously and unconsciously…”

The door opened interrupting the lecture. Magnus walked in and stared at Franziska for a second before moving to take the seat behind her.

“Magnus, this isn’t your class,” the professor scolded.

Magnus stared at him and commented, “Won’t you continue?”

“Where was I…” The instructor continued as Franziska turned to look at the boy behind her, “Symmetry is a special kind of doubling. The repetition is mirrored along a central axis. So the repetition begins at an imaginary center point and branches off in two opposing directions. There are several encrypted references to later events in the novel.” Franziska looked down at her phone to check the time and saw a message there. “Ottilie’s starvation, for example, is referenced in the third chapter part one, as her “excessive abstemiousness in eating and drinking.” This reference is again repeated later.”

Franziska stood up and explained, “I have to go to the bathroom.” The teacher excused her. Franziska hurried out the door and put on her bag looking back at Magnus.

Magnus waited until she was completely out the door before he started to follow her.

The medical examiner opened up the bird after a few notes. She asked Charolette about the boy that they had recently found.

“Mikkel,” Charlotte asked before replying confused by the other woman’s intention, “Disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“No, not Mikkel,” She clarified, “The dead boy.”

“Oh. Yes,” Charlotte realized, “No. We ran everything through the missing persons database. No match.”

The examiner then asked if everything as alright with her police chief.

Charlotte said yes at first then recanted. She then explained how all of this felt exactly as it did 33 years ago.

Jonas sat in the dark with his flashlight looking at his map. He looked up at one of the openings and decided he should try and take that one. He walked through terrified as if something was going to jump out at him like in those campy horror movies they always played on Halloween. He looked back down and checked his map again before continuing on.

Charlotte walked through the station when Woller stopped her. They had a very short conversation about trying to find out the boy’s identity and to start checking the database for a longer period of time than they initially had checked. He did give her a small clue about a red soil that must have come from the scene of the crime before Charolette had stormed off.

Katharina sat in her son’s room. She was trying to hold herself together and her family together. She watched as Ulrich finally woke up from sleeping in Mikkel’s bed. He blinked and looked around.

“What time is it,” Ulrich asked panicked.

“Just past ten,” Katharina replied. As Ulrich sat up Katharina told her husband, “Charlotte called. She still doesn’t have a search warrant for the power plant.” Katharina sighed and told her husband, “It’s been nearly 36 hours, Ulrich.” She had been an officer’s wife long enough to know the time span of these sorts of incidents.

Ulrich stood up and stormed out of his son’s room.

Martha looked to Annalise and whispered, “Tomorrow is my dress rehearsal, Lise.”

Annalise smiled at her friend and asked, “Do you want me to go?”

“Yeah,” Martha nodded, “I’ve been working really hard on it and I just want…” She sighed and asked, “May you come to watch me?”

Annalise’s brow scrunched up in confusion, “Yeah.” She whispered noticing that their professor was starting to catch on, “I am here to support you through whatever.”

Martha nodded and asked, “Can you move back home? The house just feels too empty without you there too.”

Annalise smiled, “Of course.” She clasped her hands around her friends and used her thumb to stroke her friend’s hand. She interlaced her fingers with Martha’s and let it hang down.

Franziska walked through the forest to make well on her deal with Benni. She walked vert deliberately through going to the train tracks. She could feel herself being watched, but could not be able to find the person responsible. Magnus walked on the higher part of the land mirroring the way she walked to keep a close eye on her. This wasn’t an uncommon practice for him. Being the eldest of two other siblings plus a host to a new foreign friend, this skill was honed in with near perfection. He watched as Franziska bent down and took a package from a tin that was covered with leaves. Franziska gently placed the tin back and recovered it.

Ulrich walked up to the fence of the nuclear power plant determined to have his son back. He had his bolt cutter hidden with a drop blanket so that the cameras didn’t catch him and alert the guards immediately.

Jonas continued his way through the caves. His mouth was wide with awe and wonder. When he realized he had reached a dead-end, he cursed to himself. He checked his map again to see what he was missing.

Helge sat and repeated to himself, “The beginning is the end, and the end is the beginning.” His eyes closed as he repeated the phrase. He, then, heard two voices of nurses talking about having found a boy in the woods.

Annalise forced a smile as she watched Martha go to her next class. This was one of the ones they actually didn’t share. She walked into the class to see Bartosz smirk and motion for her to sit with him. The girl rolled her eyes but sat next to him anyway, “What Bartosz?”

He laughed and pulled a dead leaf from the girl’s hair. Annalise squinted, had she had that the entire time and no one else noticed? Bartosz leaned on his elbow looking at her. “I was wondering if you talked to Martha today,” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” Annalise nodded, “But what am I? My best friend’s keeper? You are getting really creepy about this.” She turned to face forward.

Bartosz’s face dropped. His heart sank knowing that she was right. He was acting a bit obsessive, but no one was talking to him since the accident. Martha had Magnus, Magnus had Franziska and vise visa, Jonas and Annalise also had each other. Why should he be left out? His chair squeaked as he leaned over to her. He hoarsely breathed into her ear, “Is it wrong that I want someone, the person I am supposed to have this with, to share my feelings? To hold them while we watch the world crumble around us?”

Annalise turned to look at the boy in surprise. She could understand that feeling on some level. A tightness clenched her chest. Maybe she should talk to Jonas when they got home to try and get him to spend time with the boy that was supposedly his best friend.

Franziska made her way back into the school. She walked into the locker room, put away the money in her bag, and changed to get ready for her class.

Jonas, having given up for the day, walked back to his bike. He noticed something strange about it. He knelt down and pulled a red string off of the handlebar. Two ends dangled from a knot about halfway up the loop. The boy stood up and started to look around anxiously trying to find a suspect to who may have left this.

Magnus followed the girl back into the school. He watched as she exercised in her dance class. He tried to formulate what he was going to tell her.

After a series of clues, Charlotte found her way to the family’s cabin. She knelt down realizing that this road had the red dirt one of her investigators had told her about. She cleaned her hands of the dirt and answered a call from her medical examiner. The birds had burst eardrums on both sides. All the birds did. Apparently, the Electromagnetic fields interfere with the bird’s sensory systems.

Elisabeth sat talking to Yasin after school. She was telling him about what she had learned about the reproductive habits of snails that she had learned from a documentary on television. Yasin laughed with her until he heard his mother calling to him that it was time to go.

Yasin’s mother looked worried at Elisabeth and asked, “Do you need a ride home?”

Elisabeth shook her head and replied, “My mom’s picking me up.”

“I’ll drive you home,” The mother tried to insist, “It’s not a problem.”

Elisabeth shook her head again, “My mom will be here any moment now. She’s the chief of police.”

Yasin’s mother nodded accepting the girl’s answer and walked to her car with her son trailing behind.

Meanwhile, Charlotte broke into her husband’s cabin. She looked around for any clues. Seeing nothing out of place, she walked out to the bunker. She opened it up and walked down. While she was down there, she got a call about Ulrich.

Franziska walked into the locker room after her class. She walked to her bag noticing instantly that something was off. She turned to see Magnus standing there with the money in his hand.

“Franziska, what is this,” he asked motioning towards the money in his hand.

Franziska angrily replied, “Money, you idiot. My money.”

“Why do you have so much money,” Magnus questioned, “Are you dealing drugs? Is that why you were at the caves?”

Franziska grabbed the money from him and turned to put it away, “How I earn my money is none of your damn business.”

“What are you going to do with it,” the boy asked walking closer to her again.

“What am I going to do with it,” Franziska yelled, “I’m getting out of this phoney shithole. Behind everyone’s friendly smile there’s nothing but lies.”

Magnus chuckled and shook his head, “You’re no different. You pretend to be the straight-A student, but that’s not you. Maybe you should start telling the truth.”

Furious, Franziska asked, “Do you want the truth?” She shrugged and said her voice getting louder and louder as she continued, “Fine. My parents have slept in different beds for over a year. My mom found out my Dad’s actually into dicks. Their marriage is over, but no one will say it.” Her voice started to lower in frustration, “Instead, this big fat secret is always with us at the table. It eats our bread rolls, the butter, the homemade jam. It gets fatter and fatter until there’s no space left in the room.” She pushed the boy away, “Until you can’t breathe.”

Magnus looked at the girl. He had never felt so tied to someone before. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He wandered closer to her and placed his hand on her cheek. The boy looked at her silently asking if she wanted to do the same. She leaned closer to him giving him all he needed to know. Magnus leaned down and kissed her. Their passionate kiss fueled with this sense of finally curbing a craving they had long harbored. They were hungry to feel each other to fully have someone that truly understood and loved them.

Peter worked at his desk. He answered a call from his wife and asked, “Did you forget something?”

“No,” Charlotte replied, “You have to pick Elisabeth from school. I can’t make it.”

“I have a patient,” Peter pleaded, “I have to go to the office.”

“Just pick her up, okay?” Charlotte asked him, “She can wait at your office. I have to go to the power plant.”

Peter nodded, “Okay. I’ll pick her up.” He was just about to leave when Charlotte brought up a very painful memory. He couldn’t handle that on top of lying to her about not knowing anything about the boys so he made an excuse and went to try and pick up his daughter.

Elisabeth, bored, pulled out a small tube from her pocket. She played with the tube in her hands before opening it to reveal that it was the same red lipstick that Franziska was yelling at her about earlier that morning. Elisabeth put some of it on, then put it back into her pocket. Now frustrated from how long it was taking, she stood and started to walk her way home like she normally did before Mikkel went missing.

Rain fell across Winden giving Helge a perfect opportunity to slip out of the building. He walked back into the woods trying to find himself.

Elisabeth skipped through the rain. She stopped noticing an old Raider wrapper. She had never seen this before. It looked nearly identical to Twix. She wondered if it was just some kind of a ripoff.

Peter jogged up to his daughter’s school and asked one of the teachers if she had seen Elisabeth because he was there to get her. The teacher seemed confused and told him that school had let out early so she thought the girl had already gotten picked up. Peter panicked hearing this information and jogged back to his car in hopes of trying to find his daughter.

Aleksander walked with Charlotte explaining, “Security found him on our grounds, close to the caves. He must have climbed over the fence.” Charlotte nodded as she followed the director to his office to reveal Ulrich sitting, bloodied, guarded by an armed security guard. Charlotte turned to Aleksander who explained, “He hasn’t been very cooperative.”

Charlotte turned to the man and forced him to get into her car with him so that way she could drive him home. They sat in silence most of the way until Charlotte couldn’t hold it in anymore, “You’re lucky Aleksander isn’t pressing charges. Everyone understands your situation. Everyone! But climbing over the fence?”

“Understanding is nice, thank you,” Ulrich sarcastically remarked. He continued, “But it’s not enough.” He felt as if he was back 33 years ago. His heart ached. He looked at Charlotte and growled, “My child is gone, okay?” He didn’t know if he was actually saying it to her or himself or to Egon, “This isn’t just some file on your desk. It’s my child.” He looked out the window, “Why Mikkel? I keep asking myself that. Why him? Why my son? Why not his son? Why not his?” He sighed, “I’m being punished. And all I get is fucking sympathy. Well, you can take that and shove it. Where’s the search warrant? Why is no one doing anything? Should I tell you why? Because it’s not his kid. And because it’s not your kid.” He stopped and then said, “Stop here. I want to get out.”

Charlotte ignored him figuring he was just trying to be more emotionally dramatic.

“Stop the car,” Ulrich demanded.

Charlotte safely stopped the vehicle allowing the man to get out to walk in the rain. She watched him go for a second. She noticed her phone ringing. She answered it and asked, “Yes?”

A panicked Peter replied to her, “Elisabeth wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean she wasn’t there,” Charlotte asked growing concerned.

“She wasn’t at school,” Peter sobbed into the phone, “Mrs. Clemens is sick. She wasn’t waiting there. I’ve been up and down the forest road twice already and she’s not here.”

Charlotte tried to reason with him, “Maybe someone from school took her home? Maybe Yasin? Go back home. Maybe she went a different way. Call everyone in her class. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Martha and Annalise laughed as it started to rain on them. They ran down the sidewalk trying to splash each other. Annalise had wanted to walk Martha home just to make sure Martha wasn’t alone. Now they were taking this time to let out some frustration they couldn’t around everyone else. They were screaming and laughing just like they used to do. The two girls danced around each other trying to just have fun with the other. Soaking wet from just messing around in the rain, they listened as their feet caused more splashing. Their hearts felt connected and cleaned for the first time in days. Martha, at one point, slipped and dragged Annalise down with her laughing. The two girls illuminated the world with their smiles. The gray hue didn’t disturb their vibrancy of life. Eventually, they tired themselves out and walked together arm in arm to Martha’s.

When they got back to the Nielsen home, Katharina rolled her eyes and called to the girls as they ran upstairs to go and get into dry clothes. She offered for Annalise to wait out the rain or to wait until Ulrich came back so that he could drive her back to Hannah’s.

“Can’t she stay,” Martha complained.

Katharina shook her head and said, “We can’t have her just moving around so much. I am just going to text Hannah to let her know what’s going on. In fact, this is the perfect time for Annalise to finish picking up her things.”

Annalise pouted. Martha just rolled her eyes as they went up to fully strip out so they could get into warm clothes. Slowly, the darkness started to creep back. They both silently did their own thing as they tried to prepare themselves for the loneliness to settle in again.

Jonas spread the map down on the floor of his father’s studio to try and figure out where he went wrong. He was growing really frustrated with it. He sighed as he sat on his heels looking down at in almost in a trance until he heard Hannah call from downstairs. He jogged downstairs and asked, “Yeah?”

“Annalise got stuck at the Nielsen’s because of the rain,” Hannah explained, “So Ulrich will probably be dropping her off soon. Can you...” She trailed off.

Jonas shook his head and threw on his raincoat. Right now was possibly the worst time for his mother to be pulling what she normally did. So he grabbed an umbrella and said, “I’ll just go get her. Don’t worry about it.”

Hannah tried to call after him, “She is going to have a bag! It’s probably best if you just let Ulrich bring her.”

Jonas waved to his mom as he braved the rain to go and get the girl.

Charlotte drove down the forest road one more time. She went painstakingly slow to try and scan around looking for any sign of her daughter. She ended up spotting something. There lay on the moss-covered ground was an orange fox beanie that Elisabeth always wore. Charlotte stopped the car and rushed over to pick it up. She looked up and started to try to find if there were any more clues to where her daughter possibly had gotten off to. Her heart started to panic praying that Elisabeth wasn’t taken and instead just with one of her classmates.

Jonas slowly dredged his way to the Nielsens’. He took a more direct way. His yellow raincoat was the only color with him. He tried to debate if this was truly actually the best idea. He had no clue what he was going to say if he ran into Martha. Were they even going to have a conversation if Annalise was standing there? As he contemplated, he found himself at the doorstep.

Katharina opened the door with a small smile, “Hello Jonas.”

“Hello,” Jonas bowed his head as a slight greeting.

The woman stood back from the door and asked, “Why not come inside and I’ll call for Lise for you.”

Jonas nodded. He listened to Katharina call upstairs for the girls. He took a deep breath as he watched Martha descend down the stairs after Annalise.

Peter thanked the last parent on the phone. No one had seen his daughter. Misery started to grow over in him. He turned to see his wife had returned home. He stared at her trying to hold back his tears, “I called everyone on the list. Nothing.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened in fear. She couldn’t hold in her woe. Her face contorted with sadness as she showed Peter Elisabeth’s hat in her hand.

Peter took a deep breath. Realization hit him hard. He looked up at his wife and walked to her to wrap himself around her. He hadn’t held Charlotte like this in such a long time, but he couldn’t even enjoy the feeling. He just wanted his daughter back.

Annalise walked up to the boy with a cheery smile. She giggled and said, “Hey Jonas.” A small blush formed across her cheeks, “Thanks for coming to get me.”

Jonas nodded. His eyes never leaving Martha, “Yeah. It’s no problem.” He darted his eyes to Annalise then back at Martha.

Martha rubbed her elbow nervously, “Hey.” She forced a small smile.

“Hey,” Jonas breathlessly replied.

Katharina, tired of the awkwardness of the moment, urged Jonas and Annalise out. “Thank you, Jonas, but you two should go before it gets worse.” She urged them out the door and said before closing it behind them, “Thank your mother for me.”

Jonas and Annalise stared at the door for a second. Annalise huddled under the small awning to keep her new dry clothes dry for the moment. Seeing Annalise do this snapped Jonas out of his trance. He smiled gently and opened up the umbrella before handing it to her. “There you go,” He said confidently.

Annalise giggled as he and her started to walk home together. The pavement shined with the moonlight. They stayed silent as they walked. Annalise daydreaming about how romantic it was to be sharing an umbrella with such a cute boy. Also, the fact that he went out of his way to come and get her. She tried to run through conversations she could try to have with him.

Jonas took this time to look at the misty lights through the rain. He tried to figure out what to say to Martha the next time he saw her. He really didn’t know what he wanted to do about it. He blinked hearing a car driving down the road and pulled himself closer to Annalise. He wrapped an arm around her as he pulled himself closer to her and not into the street.

Starlight filled the trees. Annalise’s face blushed as Jonas pulled himself closer to her. Her breath hitched in her throat. She licked her now dry lips. She smiled and asked, “What made you come and get me?”

“I didn’t want my mom to try anything with Ulrich,” Jonas answered honestly. He didn’t even notice Annalise’s nervousness and pink hue.

“Oh,” Annalise said disappointed. She looked out in the darkness. Everything seemed a bit less bright.

They continued in silence again. A cold wind brushed past the two in the walkway. Jonas noticed out of the corner of his eye that Annalise started to shiver. Her hair was still soaked from her earlier escapades with Martha. He took pity on her and moved closer so that the could share his warmth. Annalise gave him a small smile and rest her head against his shoulder as he took the wield of the umbrella instead.

Once they got back, he ushered her inside then watched as she climbed the stairs going into her room. He knew he wanted to say something before she walked away for the night, but he couldn’t think of what to say to her. His heart gnawed watching her knowing how silent they were walking home. She normally was so brilliant. Everything brightened around her, yet tonight it seemed as if they were strangers once more.

Jonas walked upstairs and gently rest his head on his pillow. He stared up at the ceiling wondering if or where he had gone wrong.

Ulrich returned home to Katharina vacuuming the carpet from the mess Martha and Annalise had made coming inside from the rain.

A dark figure opened up the Doppler family cabin just as Franziska returned home to find her mother crying into her father’s lap. Her father looked up at her as a light came on within the cabin. Helge walked to the police searching for Elisabeth trying to warn them of the upcoming danger so that way they could stop what was going on. Franziska really didn’t need to be told what had happened. The look on her parent’s face was enough for her to know that her little sister had now disappeared as well.

Ulrich sighed as he made his way upstairs to once again go sleep in Mikkel’s bed.

The Doppler family’s door slowly unlocked causing Peter’s head to perk up to look towards the noise. He grabbed onto his wife who then also looked towards the door. Soon, Elisabeth walked in. Charlotte couldn’t contain herself and rushed to hug her daughter. She held the girl in her arms. When she pulled away, Elisabeth signed, “I lost my hat.”

Ecstatic, Charlotte signed, “Where were you?”

Elisabeth sneered, “You didn’t pick me up so I walked.”

“And that took you this long,” her mother asked frustrated from being left in such a state of distress.

“I met someone,” the girl explained. She held out a gold pocket watch to her mother then continued, “He gave me this.”

Charlotte pulled her daughter to her and asked, “Who did?”

“Ouch,” Elisabeth winced, “You’re hurting me.”

Charlotte let go of her daughter and asked again, “I want to know who gave this to you.”

“Noah,” Elisabeth replied.

“Who is Noah,” Charlotte asked.

Elisabeth, annoyed, explained, “He said it used to belong to you.”

Charlotte looked down at the watch as Peter took his daughter into his arms to hold her. She felt freezing.

“Elli,” Franziska called relieved to hear her sister was back home. She rushed into the room and pulled the girl away from their father so that she could hold her. “I was so worried about you,” Franziska admitted. She pulled her sister away and asked, “Where were you?” Franziska then noticed red lipstick on Elisabeth’s lips. She wiped it away just to be sure then slapped her sister across the face. With tears streaming down her face she told her sister, “Hands off my stuff!” She turned away and stormed to her room.

The phone rang. Peter walked to answer it telling the officers that Elisabeth had returned home only to here about his dad being in the woods. He hung up and explained to Charlotte the situation before leaving. Charlotte looked down at the pocket watch. On the inside, there was an inscription of, ‘For Charlotte.’

The next morning, the bearded stranger stood in a very familiar room to him. He walked over to the map inside of Jonas’s desk and marked a location with a red marker. He thought back on Ariadne’s thread; how we are all searching for it, the one that is meant to guide us along the right path. A beacon in the darkness. We’d love to know our fate. Where we’re headed. But the truth is, he thought, there is but one path through all times. Predetermined by the beginning and by the end, which is also the beginning.

Helge bolted awake and took the nurse’s wrist. He stared up at her and earnestly said, “He needs to be stopped. I need to stop him.”

The nurse asked, “Who?”

“Noah,” he simply replied.

Yasin walked though the woods walking to school. He vented to himself, “I’m not a baby anymore. I can go to school on my own.” The poor darling boy had no idea how wrong he was as he walked into a tall man with a large hat.

#yesterday once more fanfic #dark fanfic #dark netflix #dark (netflix)#dark (netflix) fanfic #dark netflix fanfic #dark (netflix) fanfiction #fix it fic #break it differently

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aureumjeon · 6 years ago

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Pitter-Patter (M) || KNJ

♡ Domestic!Au ♡ Husband!Namjoon x Reader ♡ !! WARNING !! Mention of miscarriage, depression, Fluff, Angst, Light smut. ♡ Words: 5.1K

a/n: *Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, nurse, midwife or anything. This was based on my own knowledge (I gave birth twice.) and of course, Google. I literally cried while writing the miscarriage scene. I have no intention of offending women who went through a mc. For those who experienced it recently or 10, 20, or even 30 years ago, I am so sorry for your loss. I will hold a special spot in my heart for you and your child. I am a mere stranger to you but I want you to know that there's a rainbow always after the rain. 🌈

“You’re not going to go through this alone, I’m with you all the way.”

You were huddled up in thick blankets on the living room couch watching Marvel's Thor: Ragnarok with your loving husband, Namjoon. Too immersed in the comedic yet action-packed plot, you did not feel your husband's hand slither its way down to the apex of your thigh. "Babe..." You whined, wiggling your thigh, trying to shake off his venturing hand. "I'm trying to watch here." You said, completely unamused. He chuckled and retorted "But we've watched this movie THREE times now." With a heavy emphasis on the three. Giggles were the only thing you replied, waving your hands in his face trying to dismiss his logical argument. He snickered at your response and rested his head on your lap, looking up at you and admiring the view. He genuinely felt happy that he gets to spend his entire life with you, for better or for worst. There was only one thing he thought was missing. "Y/N..." He hummed your name sweetly, his voice low and smooth, and it felt like feathers titillating your eardrums. "Yes, love?" You hummed back while brushing your fingers through his silver tinted hair, eyes still focused on the television. "Maybe..." He paused. Namjoon nervously swallowed a lump in his throat and carried on with what he was saying, “I think we could try again, Y/N. It's been 8 months." Your husband firmly stated, washing off any trace of hesitancy.

It took you a while to process what he was suggesting when it did sink in, the playfulness of your voice dissipated. Your face stone hard and a frown was embossed on your lips. With eyes cold as ice, you stared him down like he murdered someone. You stood up abruptly, causing his head to hit the seat cushion. "Ouch." He hissed. "Good thing its soft and we weren't lying on the floor." going over the back of his head with his fingers. You marched straight up to your shared bedroom and shut the door as loudly as you could. SLAM!

"Aish.." Namjoon sighed, pulling himself up and trailed over to where you headed. "Y/N." He knocked on the wood door twice but to no avail. "Love." He called you again, this time by your term of endearment for each other. You know you can't resist when he calls you that. The way the word escapes his lips, like a hot knife gliding through cold butter. Yes, it’s that smooth. When Namjoon heard the sound of the lock clicking, he slowly held the doorknob and nudged it open. “Y/N...” He whispered, inching closer to the side of the bed where you were seated. “Are you okay?” he inquired, rubbing circles on your back trying to soothe you. “I’m sorry...” you apologized, feeling guilty at your sudden outburst. It wasn’t his fault, and he definitely did not deserve that. You clasped his hand, lightly tugging at it, encouraging him to sit down beside you. He precisely did what you asked, wrapping his arms around you. You felt the warm, comforting heat radiate from his body.

“It’s not your fault, love...” He replied, voice gentle and soft. “Sorry for being insensitive.” He settled his hand on your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek. “Sorry if it seemed like I was rushing you.” Namjoon leaned closer to you and placed a kiss chaste kiss on your forehead. [Past] Rewind to the day you found out that you were carrying a little angel in your womb. "Love!" You shouted from the bathroom, your voice was quivering from excitement. Namjoon thought there was something wrong or that you were in trouble, he barged right through the door and exclaimed "Y/N! What's wrong?!” Tears were welling up in your eyes. You held up the at home pregnancy test kit in your hand, two solid red lines showed. After years and years of trying to conceive, the exhausting days filled with mapping out your ovulation period, ingesting an unhealthy amount of supplement that promised to enhance your fertility, and going back and forth with your not-so-affordable OB-GYNE finally paid off. "We're pregnant?" Your thunderstruck of a husband gleefully asked. "We're pregnant!" You jumped into his arms, feeling his familiar embrace. "We're... We're pregnant." He sighed in positive disbelief, tightening his hold on you. "I can't believe it!" He whimpered as his face dived deeper in the crook of your neck, "Finally." You softly hummed. The excitement of knowing that you will become a mother tickled you inside, setting off tiny, little butterflies. The following day you went to the clinic to professionally confirm that you were indeed pregnant. Your doctor delightfully congratulated both of you and enlightened you with everything you needed to know for the next 9-10 months. You took note of everything she advised, from 'what to eat and what not to eat' to 'sleeping facing the left was suggested, because it provided better blood circulation for the child." (A/n: Fun fact, this is true. My doctor advised me to sleep on the left side with both of my pregnancies. ) You were ecstatic, you undeniably were.

The moment you and your husband walked out of the building, your mind was focused on one thing, one thing alone. You looked at Namjoon with sparkly eyes and chimed "Baby clothes, bottles, binkies, shoes, bouncer, toys---" You were interrupted by your dimpled husband "Calm down, love. Isn't too early to buy those?" He chuckled, to which you replied with a pout. "And we don't know our baby's gender yet." His argument was convincing, but your stubbornness was stronger. You crossed your arms in a child-like manner, again pouting your lips into a c-shape while you stomp your feet. Indeed, like a 5-year old who was not allowed to use her tablet because screen time was over. "Come on, Y/N..." Namjoon stated, his hand was on your shoulders, trying to overpower you rebellious stance. "No." You huffed, cheeks puffed out. "Yah. You know you're absolutely gonna be the death of me, Y/N." He worded jokingly, raising his hands up in defeat "Fine." Your eyes grew 10 times wider at his surrender. "We can get a few things--," You yelled in excitement, cutting him off. "On one condition..." He continued, your grin turned upside down. "We will only get essential things." You face was like a clock, changing its direction every second. "Deal!" You joyfully replied, hooking arms with him. - "Look at this, love!" You exclaimed at amazement, pointing at the compact stroller that magically folds into a cube no more than 20 inches in height and width. Namjoon coiled his arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. You reached the clothing section for 3 months and below. With wandering eyes, you gazed at all the lovely clothes stacked against one another, row after row, and aisle after aisle. They were just as adorable as you expected them to be. Varying from the palest shade of pink to the deepest shade of blue. Onesies, jumpers, sweaters, hats with fluffy cat ears on top, you name it. "Only what's necessary." Namjoon prompted you with a smile on his face, seeing you happy made him happy. "Yes, sir!" You replied. Your husband does have a point; it really was too early for this. You were just excited at the whole ordeal, and you were thankful that your husband was very kind, loving and understanding enough to let you do what you want. "These!" You plucked the 6-set whites onesies from the display hook. "And these, too!" A cute 3-piece pyjama set littered with doodles of cats, dogs and rabbits accordingly. You tossed them in the basket that was held by your husband. He walked behind you, following every twist and turn you took. Humming a song as he observed you with love-struck eyes. You, the love of his life, is now bearing his child. A family, he thought to himself, together the three of you will become a family. After getting what you needed, you hurriedly hauled your husband to the counter to pay for everything you bought. You got to the car and sat in the passenger seat, holding the bag of baby stuff. "You happy?" Namjoon smiled, his free hand resting on your thigh. "Very!" You lovingly replied, clutching on the bag. The first three months were hell, the doctor told you that this period is where your body will start to feel the surge of hormones. Some women feel nothing at all, while others experience nausea, vomiting, fatigue, cravings, smell sensitivity, and many, many more unpleasant thing. Unfortunately, you represent the latter.

You wouldn't survive it if it wasn't for you very supportive husband. He'd remind you when it was time to take your prenatal pills, cook you a full balanced meal, sing you lullabies when you had trouble sleeping, massage your back, legs and feet whenever you feel them ache, and run to the 24-hour convenience store when you want to eat weird combination of food like chocolate covered sausage. He was heaven sent, you looked at him with luminous eyes while he cradled your growing bump in his arms, kissing it more than a hundred times. What have you done in your past life to deserve a man like him? He was an amazing husband, and he will be an amazing father too. "We got a monthly check up tomorrow right?" You asked your husband at you scanned your phone's calendar. "Yes..." He hummed as he placed another kiss on your tummy. "I'm excited to see how much our little one has grown." You smiled. Namjoon crawled beside you, spooning you in. "Sleep, love. It's harmful to stay up late." He stated. You closed your eyes and felt your body drift into dreamland. Tomorrow comes, you were seated at the waiting area with your husband, waiting for your names to be called. "Mr. and Mrs. Kim?" The nurse at the reception desk stated, she smiled and added: "Mrs. Park is ready to see you now." You bowed and entered the room, greeting the familiar face of the doctor you've been seeing for almost 3 years. "How are you feeling, darling?" Your sweet doctor inquired as she gestured for your maternity booklet. "Have you eaten well and are you getting enough sleep?" You nod, while she scanned your previous record. "By the look of it, you're 16 weeks in today, congratulations again." She grinned from ear to ear. Happy to see that the Kims, one of her favorite couple has come a long way. She rose from her seat and guided you over to her examination table, helping you lie down. "Let's see how much the baby has grown." She clapped, reaching for her handy dandy tape measure and measured your bump. "Good, good. This is an appropriate size for a 16th week gestational age." You smiled and looked over your to your right, you husband giving you the thumbs up. "Next, we'll count the baby's heartbeat." She opened the drawer next to the examination table and pulled her Doppler foetal monitor. She uncapped the tube of Aquasonic 100 Ultrasound gel and spread it on the tip of the gadget. You jolt at the sudden coldness you felt. "Okay, stay still mommy. Let's find your angel's heartbeat.

Your doctor furrowed her brows after 6 minutes of searching for your little one's thumping heart. "That's odd." She obscurely said. The look of worry both flooded you and Namjoon's faces. "Is something wrong, Mrs. Park?" Your husband, who was presently standing to your right, impatiently asked while clasping your hand. "I'm having a hard time locating it." She answered, "It is possible your baby's in a very snug position, that might be the reason why my Doppler can get a hold of his/her heartbeat." You exhaled a profound sigh of relief, looking at each other with weary eyes. "It's going to be alright, love," Namjoon assured you, kissing your knuckles. "I'll ask my assistant to prepare the ultrasound room for us. We require a more powerful machine so we will use big Al, that's what we call him here." She smiled. "Please wait a moment Mr. and Mrs. Kim." She then left the room. "Everything's gonna be alright, I promise." Your husband assured you once more, as he felt your hands tremble in fear. "I hope so..." You sighed. You were finally in the ultrasound room, Big Al stood before you. "Okay. This will do the job." Mrs. Park affirmed, "Please." She gestured to the examination table, this time it was a bigger one. "With this, we will be able to locate it 10 times faster." You breathe in and out to release the tension in your body. The sonographer gave Mrs. Park the go signal, she slid the now mightier machine on your stomach again for a solid 3 minutes. You crossed your fingers and hoped for the best, anticipating only positive things. You train of thought was then cut short by the sonographer. "Mrs. Park, for a while." The young lady called to the elder woman. You and Namjoon's eyes were stuck on the both of them. She then muttered something into her ear, causing her happy demeanor to melt into a gloomy one. She cleared her throat and stood firm and professional. "Mrs. Kim." Her voice was laced with sadness, and you felt your own heart rate shoot up a hundred times. "I'm sorry." She outstretched her hand to hold yours, squeezing it tightly. Your mind went dull. "What?" You asked, utterly terrified at what she was about to say next. "The baby doesn’t have a heartbeat." You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces inside your chest, piercing you lungs making you unable to breathe properly. "What?!" Your husband yelled furiously, Mrs. Park was trying to calm him down. It felt like a gun was aimed at your head, and reality pulled the trigger. Big, heavy tears instantaneously fell from your eyes without a warning. You felt the ground swallow you whole. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?!

You suddenly burst into a desperate cry. You hopped off the table and fell to the ground with a loud thud; Namjoon rushed over and held you in his arms. The pain from the fall was no way near the pain you felt at the moment. Hearing the news with your own two ears felt like a death sentence. "Why?!" You screamed at the top of your lungs. "W-w-?!" sobbing endlessly. Words were not enough to express all the emotions stirring up inside you. If felt painful; it felt horrible; it felt terrifying; it felt excruciatingly unbearable; it felt like you no longer had a reason to live; it felt like all the sense in your mind, and your body was stripped off with just one sentence. "Why?! I did everything right!" You bawled, using your husband as a punching bag. "Why?! Why did it turn out like this?!" Your screams grew harsher that other nurses fled to the room to determine what all the commotion was about. You looked at Mrs. Park and wept "Why?" She bowed her and went down to your level. "I'm extremely sorry, Y/N." Her eyes filled with guilt as she failed you, in the sense that it was her responsibility to take care of the mother and child during the miraculous process of conceiving up to delivering. She did not see your future, and the future of your child turn out this way. "I'm sorry." She truly was. You and your husband were escorted to a private room, where you could take a rest. Your eyes were still bloodshot, red and swollen. You were shivering uncontrollably from head to toe. You were not in the right state for a conversation at the moment, so Namjoom was the one who discussed with Mrs. Park about the next step. Namjoon calmly explained to you that they scheduled you for a labor induction a week from now. Mrs. Park said it would be better to give you time to adjust, time to accept the reality as it is. There was nothing you or he could do to prevent it. Miscarriages happen, even to the healthiest of women. You headed home later that day, you haven't said a single word. It pained your husband to see you like this so he decided to take a whole month off of work, he was fortunate that his boss was kind enough to. He allotted his time to take care of you, making sure you knew you were loved, even at your darkest moments. The cursed day came, and you we're nothing but scared. Your husband looked at you with hopeful eyes "You're not going to go through this alone. I'm with you all the way." He assured you, giving you one last kissed before they wheeled you to the delivery room. "I love you." He voiced out enough for you to hear.

After two gruelling hours that felt like forever, you were able to deliver your child. He was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. You held him in your arms. He was tiny and fragile, no less than 5 inches long. You looked at his face; he's got Namjoon's eyes and your nose. You gently touch his little feet; you were in complete awe at his cute toenails. "Look, love." You hummed to your husband who carried the same face as yours. "Beautiful." He smiled through his faltering voice, "Our baby is beautiful." You looked at you husband and said "Byeol." You smiled faintly, "Let's name him Kim Byeol." He merely nodded "I think that's a lovely name." You tried holding back the tears, for these were moments that needed to be cherished. A mother and child moment that can never be replaced. You were celebrating the birth of your child, your beautiful child. He might not be here physically, but spiritually he is. He was in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul. And he always will be. He was a part of you that can never be taken away. You loved him the day he was created, you love him the day he was taken, and you’ll love him until your last breath. "Byeol." So that every time the sun goes down and the moon takes over its throne, you know he's there. Watching over you while you sleep and dream about him. There may come certain times when the skies are cloudy or filled with rain, he will hide. For just like you, he is terrified. Once the storm calms and there's no more need to be scared, he will show himself. He will show you and teach you that the darker the sky, the brighter your little star will shine. It was time to say goodbye. You were not ready, you were not ready to say goodbye yet. You knew he could not stay with you forever, but when they took him from you, you felt empty. Your life felt empty. It's like a huge shadow was cast over you, engulfing you in darkness. 'No, please.' You whispered to yourself as they took your baby away. You feel asleep almost immediately, your body was tired, of course. You needed to rest, your mind and your body needed to rest. You woke up to the next day. Your husband happily prepared breakfast for you, his eyes were still red and swollen from all the crying he did last night. You were silent; you were confused; you were lost. He was worried you didn't want to eat anything, but he still pushed it upon himself to get you to eat something even if it's a small piece of bread and a glass of water. Once your meal was finished, he handed you a white frame. Two little footprints in the middle of the page, the name "Byeol Kim" written in beautiful calligraphy just above it, and below it, the words "Forever in my heart" pulled a heart string. Each corner was decorated in white lace with intricate design, a pair of angel wings at each side. "A gift." He interjected. "From the hospital." You were still silent, but he knew deep down in your heart that the simple gift meant the world to you. After your induction, she advised you to stay at home, take all the rest you need, eat healthily and take care of yourself. She wished you a speedy recovery.

The car drive home was quiet. No words, no tears, no nothing. He watched as you aimlessly walk around the house, clutching onto your stomach, mumbling incoherent words. He did not mind he had to feed you, bathe you, clothe you, and brush your hair. He didn't mind any of those things because this was the way he could help your recovery. He loved you, and he wanted to do everything in his power to help you get back up on your feet, even if it's one day at a time. Namjoon woke up with the sound of your cries. He ran to where the sound came from and discovered you on the floor in tears, holding on the clothes that you bought not so long ago. "Byeol..." You sobbed, looking at the baby clothes. "My Byeol.." Striking your hands on the floor. "My baby's gone." You mourned endlessly. "What's the point of living if my baby didn't get to experience it?" The sound of your broken cries echoed inside the entire house. Namjoon picked you, bridal style and carried you to your room. "Hush now, love." He sang, rocking you in his arms. "Byeol's not gone." Namjoon squeezed your hand and placed it against your chest, just above your heart. "He's here." Then he transferred it to his "And here, too." He smiled, "As long as we're here, he will be here, too." His voice was like a lullaby that alleviated your pain. You thought you were alone, that there was nobody that could understand your pain. You carried that child. You carried that burden. You felt sad you forgot about the other most important person in your life, Namjoon. You harmoniously pranced with him through the better, now, you're defying all odds through the worse. Your previous flare-ups with your husband were nothing compared to this, this was a level beyond any other level. You were grateful, extremely. You fell in love with the man who's willing to move mountains for you, search high and low just to make you happy. He would gladly surrender his life in exchange for yours to be spared, eternally, you were grateful.

[Present]

You ran your fingers through his locks, looking intensely at his black orbs. "I love you." He leaned in closer and captured you with a kiss. His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt, lifting it in one fell swoop, you giggled in surprise. Namjoon pushed you further to the bed with hungry kisses, his instincts kicked in when he plopped you, back flat on the mattress. He looked at your shirtless figure below him, and he bit his lip and said: "You’re fucking beautiful." And continued with the interrupted kiss. It felt like a lifetime; it really did. You were so frightened of another heartbreak and going through the same experience again that you cut off all sexual involvement besides kissing and cuddling for 8 months. You were amazed at your husband's strong will but felt bad, too. Because you were blocking something that comes so natural between two people that love each other. He understood where you coming from, of course. There were just times that his naughty little hands found it's under your shirt or inside your panties, it was cute but still. You weren't ready then. You are now. "Oh my god." You hummed. You missed the way his breath felt your neck while he was kissing you there; you missed the way your hands clung onto his shoulders, your digits digging in to his skin; you miss the way your back would arch every time he would suck on your supple flesh, drawing out purple bruise; you simple miss him. "Is... Is this okay?" He broke the kiss, making sure you wanted this as much as he did. "Yes." You mused, shimmying your shorts and panties down. Your action caused his pupils to dilate, breath heavy. "I love you, Namjoon." "I love you too, Y/N." His mouth inched closer to your perked nubs, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he sucked more marks, sending your senses into overdrive. "Uggh-" You moaned, hands curling into a fist. "You enjoying yourself?" He chuckled lowly, taking in your nipple in his mouth which earned another loud moan from you. He sucked on it, tweaking it between his teeth. "Don't... Stop..." You whined. His hands came up and cupped both of your breasts, kneading it with his huge palm and long fingers. Your body once again contorted into an arch, as the bolt of electricity ran through your entire boy. You hustled him away, for a second there he thought you wanted to back out, but to his surprise, you grabbed his shirt and plucked it over his body. "I like seeing you naked." You huffed, scanning his entire figure. He then untied the lace of his sweatpants and pulled it down to his knees before kicking it off. "Me, too." He boasted his hard 7-inch member meeting you tip to eye. His head was glossy due to the beads of pre-cum coming out of its narrow slit. "Wow." You mouthed, eyes still affixed on his dick. "What can I say, it missed you, a lot." He joked while pumping himself. "Want me to stretch you out first? It's been so long." He suggested. You shyly nod and wait for him to descend to you soaked womanhood. "I guess someone misses it, too." He growled, his face mere centimetres away from your core. "You smell as amazing as the day I ate you out for the first time." He groaned through close nit teeth, wanting to eat you whole. "F-fuck!" You whipped when he licked a stripe over you juice stained core. "You're so wet for me, Y/N," He pridefully stated. "And only for me." He was ravenous, like a carnivore that hasn't had a meal in days chomping down on its prey. Boy, he ate you the right way. He managed to pull himself off of your inviting pussy because of the need to fuck you was taking over his body. "Is that okay? You're pretty lubed up now." He gave you a certain glance that could only refer to one thing. You spread your legs, coaxing him to dive right in. Right away, his body hovered over yours, he lined himself next to your dripping core. "Tell me if it hurts, Okay?" He said before gradually pushing the tip of his cock. He went in nice and steady, "God, I forgot you were so fucking tight." He pushed in further, you pussy was swallowing his member inch by inch. Your walls were clenching around his shaft. You yelped at the delicious stretch, his pulsating dick in filling you up so good. The sound of your wanton moans reverberated in his ears making him pulled away and then snap his back into you so fucking hard. "Namjoon-ah!" You screamed as he thrashed you onto the mattress. You grabbed a fistful of his locks; you tuck your butt in and raised your pelvis a bit higher, giving him a better angle to penetrate you. "Shit." His voice was cracked, breathing heavy. "I think I'm about to come... " He whined, quickening his pace. "Cum with me, Y/N." With his words, your velvet walls hugged his hard member perfectly, his thrust we sloppy, an indication of him approaching his climax. "Fuuuuck!" He groaned out loud when he spilled his seed inside of your warm hole. "Fuck indeed." You playfully hummed while he rode out both of your highs. He managed to squeeze in one last push before his member turned flaccid. His body dropped on your own. "You're heavy..." You grumbled, his sweat mixed with yours "Sweaty, too! Ewww!" You joked. Namjoon looked at you and said "Shower?" with a big grin on his face. "Yes please!"

Five weeks have passed, and you were 4 days late for your period. You had been experiencing sudden mood swings and cravings the past week, your breast felt more tender than the usual and morning sickness plague you every single day. You searched for your spare Pregnancy test kit in your medicine cabinet. You peed on the stick, thinking nothing of it, not expecting anything. "Positive" You uttered, speechless at the sight of two red lines. "It's positive." You lowered your voice, hoping your husband didn't hear you. You wanted to surprise him and what great timing you thought, his birthday was just right around the corner. You stuffed the test in your pocket and ran upstairs. Rummaging through your closet, you found the box of your engagement ring. You pulled out all of the foam contents, making sure the small test would fit inside. "Yes!" It was a perfect fit. You couldn't wait for six more, so you had to tell him now. "Love??" You yelled. "Come up here for a second. I need to show you something." "In a minute!" He was hanging the clothes you had finished washing together. "What is it?" He stepped into the room and was greeted by you with a mischievous grin on your face. "Okay..." He cautiously shut the door behind him and continued "What are you up to?" He asked with a doubtful tone in his voice. "You birthday's coming up, and I got you an early gift!" You cheerfully stated. "You know you didn't have to." He tucked the strand of hair behind your ear. "You're already the best gift I received." Placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Your grin grew wider as you said: "I found something better!" You handed him the small box, and he looked confused. "Your? Ring?" He chuckled at your antics. "Open it, c'mon!" The moment he opens the box and laid eyes on whatever was inside, no words were spoken, he hugged you so tight, oh so very tight and said "Okay. This is probably the best birthday gift anybody has ever given me." Fast forward to a year and a half later with you sitting on the living room floor. Same old house, same old car, same old couch, but... Something was different... You were thankful your prayers had been answered as you heard the pitter-patter of little footsteps on the hardwood floor. End.

a/n: somewhat edited. idk 11/22/18

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rmjagonshi · 6 years ago

Text

Visions of HeartBreak Past

On AO3

It was almost done, Soos was finishing up the last few stitches before they let the thing into the air. If he could pull this off, he might actually get more customers into the Mystery Shack. There might actually be an upside to this ‘Woodstick’ Festival yet. He’d seen the way these kids spent money – heck, some of them were adults not that much younger than him – and with any luck, he might just be able to top off the budget for this month. He was short on the utilities payment by a good three-hundred-bucks. If there was one thing he never counted on, was that his brother’s dumb sci-fi portal mess drove the electricity bills further up the ‘dear god why’ charts. He does kinda feel bad for the kids; he’d had to come up with some lame-ass old man excuse for never turning on the lights or air conditioner during the day. He’d make it up to them…somehow…maybe. He sighed.

If he was gonna pull this off, he was really gonna need to prepare the kids for the eventuality of their entire world upending. But for now, he just needed to advertise. And the balloon was…abso-fucking-lutely not like he had anticipated. It was a fucking horror show, looked nothing like the blueprints and very much like what he saw in the mirror every morning. Although, Soos’s comment that the nose looked like a sausage and that it reminded him of the story that his Abuelita told him about a couple who find a genie and they fight over the wishes and one ends up with a sausage for a nose, kinda made it better. Soos was a good kid – er, man. Man-kid. Stan was sure he didn’t deserve the kindness and loyalty that the man gave him. He was honest enough with himself to admit that he’d used that unwavering loyalty to his advantage a few times.

Stan gritted his teeth in frustration at his own mind. Everything came back around to that, didn’t it? Everything he did, every time he felt even the tiniest bit of happiness, it all had to circle back and remind him that he was a sad, tired and despicable old man that didn’t deserve the friends and family he had. Hell, until the kids came, he didn’t have any family to call his own. But…maybe, just maybe, after all these years, he could do something right. Be less of a fuck-up. Which brought everything back to the hideous hot-air balloon that he was beginning to doubt was a great idea. He took another look at the blue prints and tried to make sense of the horrid scribbles he had jotted down in the margins when the sound of a lot of hot air being released into the night sky caught his attention.

“Wuh-oh. Mr. Pines. Think we got a problem.” Soos gestured to the ripped seam up near the balloon’s fez. Sure enough, the patchwork fabric they’d used to make the fez was flapping wildly as the hot air trapped in the misshapen balloon escaped with force, threatening to burst adjacent seams with every second. Well, shit. It would take a good hour for Soos to deflate the balloon, repair the damage and get it back up and running. Why is it that everything always had to go wrong? Why couldn’t one of his plans go off without a hitch? Just one? Oy!

“I’m on it Mr. Pines! I’ll have this balloon fixed in a jiffy. Now, what lever turned off the do-hicky again?” Make it two hours until Soos figured out how to fix this. He should probably scope out the venders and see what the young people were spending their money on. I couldn’t hurt to expand the gift shop merchandise to include things his new customers were actually interested in buying.

“Hey, Soos, I’m gonna go walk around, scope out the competition, ya’know. Figure out what these kids are into.” Or he really just needed to walk around and think and didn’t need Soos to pick up on it. As oblivious as the kid was, he always had a knack for knowing when Stan was moping around. It seemed every time, without fail, that he was feeling particularly depressed, he would open the door to see Soos standing there with cookies, or breakfast, or something sweet his grandma had made, or some kind of ‘Boss Appreciation’ gift. While he adored the boy, sometimes, he just needed to stew. He was sixty for Pete’s sake, he was entitled to a few days where he could just be a sad and grumpy old man. He’d earned it.

“Sure, Mr. Pines.” Soos had already started flicking levers and pushing buttons on the engine. Stan shrugged, Soos was the better of the two at figuring out how it worked anyhow. What harm could it do? He turned and walked back to the rows of venders all in pavilion style tents. All the venders were shouting and trying to attract customers, showing off their products and…what was that? Giving out free samples!? And the kids were eating it up! How the heck can they make any money by just giving stuff away? Oh sure, keep the t-shirt and caps for full charge, but give the stickers away for free.

Stickers are where he made most of his money! People were rubes, but some of them were pretty price savvy. Show’em a t-shirt with cheap cloth that will fall apart after five washes and tell’em it’s twenty-five bucks, they’ll laugh in your face and keep their wallets tightly closed. But show them a cheap key chain or sticker and tell them it’s a buck or two, they eat it up. They buy five, one of each variety. Paint one shipment gold and call it “special edition” and charge an extra buck, they buy the whole stock. Have a stack of postcards that got wet and the ink warped during the last storm because the roof leaked? Sell them as prints of a hand painted scape of Gravity Falls and double the price. People were absolutely stupid when it came to money if you just nickel and dimed them with special editions and ‘one of a kinds’.

But he wasn't here to boat to himself about how much better a con-artist he was. He was here to figure out what the young people of today were spending their money on. The further he walked, the more food and drink stalls he came across. Okay, so having a food truck on site might be a good idea. He’d done that with the fair he’d put on at the beginning of the summer. Didn’t he make a lot of money that day? Honestly he can’t remember much – he does the fair every year to replace the county fair that the town can’t pay for anymore, and it breaks even most years – all he remembers is sitting in a dunk tank for the afternoon and bleeding the suckers dry as rube after rube tried their hand at dunking the old creep from the Mystery Shack.

Okay, food truck. He could do that. Have a tiny kitchen where he sold drinks and shitty hot dogs and icecream to the families that come from miles around. Might even call up Susan and see if she had a spare cook and the Greasy Diner can share in the profits.

Or…not. He’d not too keen on calling the resident Crazy Cat Lady again. Especially since she still seemed to want to date him. That was a total disaster. And poor Mabel. She meant well, but he was just, as Wendy had put it, ‘un-fixable’. Heck, Soos had been trying for over a decade and hadn’t gotten anywhere. He was doomed to be alone forever, he supposed. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He’d pushed everyone in his life away. He creeped most women out – most men too for that matter – with his really tired and used pick-up lines. His six hour marriage to Marylin ended with her ducking out of the El Diablo at 75 mph with their ill-gotten casino winnings. He’d really thought he’d been in love. Then again, he’d thought he’d been in love with Carla too. He’d dated her through high-school and when he’d gotten kicked out, they’d tried to go steady for a while. But his constant moping over living in his car and losing his family had pushed her into the arms of a musician. And Ford…

Well, he’d pushed Ford into a swirling vortex of Hell in a fit of rage. His guilt hadn’t let him get a full night’s sleep in thirty years.

And now he was avoiding his feelings by wandering the tents at the Woodstick Festival. Dang it! He really needed to go see a therapist like Soos said. But what was he gonna say; ‘Hey, yeah, so I pushed my brother into a sci-fi portal and have spent the last thirty years trying to teach himself quantum physics and calculus, so he could get him back. Oh, and I may or may not have romantic feelings about said brother.’ Yeah, that would go over well.

Stan sighed. He really was hopeless wasn’t he?

A yell and the sound of a cart of beads being turned over caught his attention as he saw a telltale mop of brown hair and a rainbow sweater dart around the corner. He watched as both Mabel and Dipper cut and weaved through the crowd, a rather pudgy blond man in moderate pursuit. At least, until the prop wings on his back started flapping and Stan got a nagging prickling at the back of his head whenever he encountered something supernatural. His gut reaction, the same one that had kept him from going insane in the last thirty years was to turn around and ignore, repress, and feign ignorance. A slightly more pressing gut reaction was to chase down the offender with a baseball bat for endangering his kids.

I really wasn't even a debate as he found himself darting after the three, watching in only slight horror as he saw the absolutely not supernatural man fly overhead to cut off the kids at the fenceline. Stan caught up just a moment after, quick and practiced fingers taking the bottle of black powder from Mabel’s hand as he came up behind her and tucking it in his jacket. He was braced to punch a hippie in the face to protect his children. Heck, he’d probably punch the hippie anyway.

“Sorry, kids, but you’ve left me now choice. Visions of Heartbreak Past!”

As the blond hippie raised his bottles of creepy hippy powder to throw at Mable, Stan darted in front of her, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back to fall to the grass and was coated in the pink and purple smoky haze instead. He inhaled and immediately regretted his need to breathe as he doubled over, hacking so hard he was surprised his dentures hadn’t fallen out. Whatever this guy was using to drug people, it was doing a number on Stan’s lungs. He really was lucky to have quit smoking when the kids showed up. He’d probably have passed out by now if he hadn’t. The residual powder coated his mouth and throat. It tasted of bittersweet hope, and…was that jelly beans? God, he hadn’t had jelly beans since…

“Stan?”

Stan froze. He knew that voice. Knew it better than anything else. That voice, that scream that haunted his nightmares.

“Wait, wah?”

“Why is there a pink flavored Grunkle Stan? Hey Love God, what was that supposed to do?”

The ‘Love God’ gaged.

“Ewwww, Man! I knew this bozo was weird. I didn’t think it was this bad.” The twisted face of disgust on the Love Gods face confused the twins, but was completely lost on Stan.

As the smoke cleared, a pink tinged hand extended out to him. A six-fingered hand, wreathed in pink light reaching out to him. When he looked up, it was like looking into a mirror, one that reflected only his best features. His tired, half-blind eyes meet soft pink ones, ones he knew were supposed to be blue so his mind filled in the correct color.

“It’s supposed to show you romances you’ve had and lost. It gets people off my back when they get too suspicious.” Spat ‘Love God’, momentarily recovering from his aborted retching.

Stan heard none of it. Eyes fixated on the phantom in front of him.

“Himself? Huh? Guess it’s not that surprising.”

“But, why would he have ‘lost’ himself? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Man, you kids have one freaky family.” The ‘Love God’ gulped down something from his belt of potions.

The six fingered hand reached for his own, tugging gently at first before pulling Stan to his feet and interlacing their fingers. A shy smile pulled at that lips he used to catch himself staring at. He knew, logically, that he wasn’t looking into the face of his brother. Stanford was likely older now than his memory allowed. And Stanford wasn’t pink, he knew that. Logically he knew that. But his heart couldn’t take it. The phantom embraced him, twelve fingers digging into his suit jacket.

“Please…” God, he wanted to. Whatever it was, he would do it. But his mind clouded, his eyes clouded and all he could do was cry.

He gripped the phantom tightly, the twins watched, even more confused but thankfully silent. The ‘Love God’, true to his name, showed somewhat of a heart and stopped gagging and even frowned in empathy. He barely noticed when the phantom pickpocketed him. The phial was tossed to the ‘Love God’ and the phantom Stanford shot a wicked smile at Stan. One that, while it was supposed to look like betrayal, only shot a bolt of heat down his spine. The ‘Love God’ was right, he was a freak.

Panicked screams echoed as the night sky lit up orange and red. Stan turned in time to see his would-be advertisement scheme in flames and headed directly for them. Through residual tears, he launched forwards and scooped the twins up and out of the range of the fall out. The ‘Love God’ was not so lucky.

When the dust cleared and the fire crew crowded in to put out the flames, the kids squirmed their way out of Stan’s grasp and raced back to the spot where the pudgy aspiring musician stood.

“Love God? Are you ok?”

“Please be immortal, please be immortal.”

It was just Stan’s luck that Cupid was invulnerable. He still got a good punch in before the freak got to the stage.

*~*~*~*~*

When they found the portal in the hidden basement and everything literally almost turned upside-down, it made sense. When the author of the journals walked out from the glowing blue light and introduced himself, they understood. When Stan told them the stranger was his brother, everything fell into place.

Mostly.

Mable was still struggling to understand what had happened at the Woodstick Festival. Climbing out of bed, Mabel made her way downstairs and out the back door, hearing muttering from the open door to the gift shop.

She found Stan leaning back into the couch on the back porch, glass bottle in one hand, lit cigar in the other. Eyes red rimmed and blinking slowly at the treeline like he was a million, billion miles away. He was letting he cigar burn down, the ash dropping off the end to land in the ashtray he’d absently left on the side table. She tentatively took the cigar from between his fingers, squashed the lit end into the ashtray to put it out, and climbed up on the couch beside him.

He startled when she took his cigar, but just watched her as she put it out and sat down; not speaking, not accusing, not asking. He knew why she was up, why she’d come looking for him. Ford was still in the basement working on something or other; the clang of metal occasionally reverberating enough to be heard through the floorboards. He settled back, moving to set the bottle down before wrapping an arm around her. She curled up into his side, fingers picking at stray hairs on his dress-shirt – the suit jacket left somewhere inside. She knew they hadn’t hugged, and that Stan would need one. She liked her new Grunkle, he was cool, and super smart, he just, had some anger issues to deal with. But as mad at Stan as he was, he couldn’t hate him, could he? They were twins, like her and Dipper. They could never hate eachother. She felt her Grunkle slump further into the couch.

He really didn’t want to talk. But like pulling out a loose tooth or a splinter, it was the best thing for him.

“So…the Woodstick Festival?”

Stan flinched. He tilted his head so that the glare from the open door blocked his eyes and withdrew his arm. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but his voice caught in his throat and no sound escaped. After a few seconds, he just gave up, closing his mouth with a click and turning away from her.

The ‘Love God’s’ words had stuck in her head. Not love, ‘romance’. As in, crush, as in stay awake all night thinking about them. But, Grunkle Ford was Stan’s brother. Love God had to have been wrong, maybe he used the wrong powder, or maybe it applied to familial love too. Her head jerked up when she heard Stan’s ragged voice.

“I…I…understand…if you want to…go home early. I won’t ask you to stay. It wouldn’t be right. Just…all I’m askin’ is that you not tell your parents about that. I don’t care what they think of me, but Ford deserves a chance to know his family. He never got the chance to meet your dad. Shermie told me that they are a lot alike. Probably where Dipper gets it.”

He chuckled to himself. Voice dry and lacking any sense of real warmth. He reached down and took a swig from his bottle, draining it and staring at the label as if it held the cure to his every ailment.

“But he didn’t know. Nothing ever happened. I was all me. I’m the freak. Ford didn’t know, still probably doesn’t know.” His movements were jerky, bottle dropping to the porch as he turned and grasped Mabel by her hand. “Oh God, please…please don’t tell him! I’ll do anything!” He had clasped her hand in both of his. He was pleading with her, just like he’d done back in the basement. Begging her to trust him, begging her to not do this.

She felt scared. Why on Earth would she not tell Grunkle Ford that his brother loved him enough that their falling out broke Stan’s heart? Why would she not tell her parents that, either? Why would it even need to be a secret? Why would Stan call himself a fre…unless……oh. OH! He meant, as in, oh wow! That changed things, didn’t it? He meant it like, he ‘loved’ his brother. He loved Stanford.

Something in her expression must have showed recognition because his eyes filled with shame and he turned away, letting go of her hands and picking at the tear in the couch cushion.

“You love him. And I mean, like, love love, like lay awake at night thinking about them, love.” It wasn't a question. But all the same, Stan nodded.

She didn’t know what to say. Usually, she’d tell Stan to go tell him, go confess your feelings. They either liked you back, or didn’t. But this was way different than everyday romances. This wasn't even just forbidden love between a snake and a badger or like between Dipper and Wendy. This was taboo. This was all kinds of wrong. What could she say to that? ‘Oh, hey. Grunkle Ford, I know that we just met and all, but did you know your brother is in love with you? No? Well he is, and spent the last thirty years trying to get you back because of it.’ She shook her head. There was no real way to talk this through.

She tried to imagine feeling about Dipper like that. Like, tried to picture Mermando and the feelings she got when thinking about him and tried to put Dipper there. But, she just couldn’t. Every time she pictures his face, all she felt was good natured affection for her bro-bro. He was cute…she guessed. But he didn’t make her heart beat fast like Mermando did.

Grunkle Stan had called himself a ‘freak’, maybe he was right. Loving your brother, wanting to smooch your brother was weird. She understands now why the Love God got so grossed-out when he saw the phantom Grunkle Ford. It was kinda weird and gross, but…well, Stan was a weird, gross, old man, maybe it was ok. He looked so lost now, like he wanted to jump into the Bottomless Pit and not come back.

She would be sad if he did. He would cry and cry and cry until the whole of Gravity Falls was under water. Dipper would cry too, though he would never admit it. And she doesn’t know Grunkle Ford very well, but she’s sure he would cry too.

They had sat in silence for several minutes as Mabel processed what had to be her Grunkle’s greatest secret. With a small smile, she flopped into Stan’s side and did her best to wrap him in the biggest Mabel hug she could.

Stan flinched, jarred by the contact he thought he would never feel again. He shifted his weight on the couch, turning just enough to gather Mabel into his lap and squeeze as tight as she would let him. He buried his face into her soft hair, brown strands absorbing the tears he couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her scalp, gravel voice hardly a whisper. “I’m sorry your uncle is a freak.”

She wanted to tell him that is was going to ok, that he wasn't a freak, and that he wasn't a bad person. But, she just couldn’t…not yet, and maybe not ever. She didn’t know how to feel about this. She loved Stan, yes, and nothing he would ever do would change that, but, this was something she didn’t know how to handle. She just squeezed tighter.

Upstairs, the triangular window was propped open, and a microphone dangled from a string from its ledge. Dipper’s – with oversized headphones over his ears – face was contorted, brows furrowed and chewing nervously on his thumbnail.

Ford leaned against the wall beside the back door just outside of view of anyone looking in from the outside. He’d left his boots downstairs to muffle the sound of his steps. His was was grim, tired, and despondent. Hand absently trailing to the inner pocket of his jacket where he kept the one photo that had kept him going the past three decades. He wondered if it would still carry the same meaning now.

#stancest #Stanley Pines #stanford pines #love god #S2Ep9 Gravity Falls #I thought about this for months #How would that have gone #Sure Carla and Marlyn #but com'on #You know Ford would have been in the lot

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withering-the-comic · 7 years ago

Photo

prologue | part one : pages 20-24 | posting schedule

[image description for vision-impaired readers below the cut]

PAGE TWENTY

It’s a new day, and Castiel shuffles across the carpet in his bumblebee socks as he heads for the kitchen. His legs are bare. It may be late in the morning--already 9:24am--but it’s still too early for him to have bothered to dress. He’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts and a dark t-shirt. It’s almost as rumpled from sleep as his hair.

The kitchen is well equipped with a dishwasher and shelf space by the window, and the counter is well stocked with herbs and spices. A few wilting plants sit along the windowsill and on the counter beside Gabriel’s recipe books; Gabe’s Dessert Bible, Recipes for Poisoning Kali, Best Pies 2003-2004, All The Cake, and finally, Sausage Porn. This is one collection of books that Castiel has nothing to do with, and he doesn’t even glance at them before opening the fridge to peer blearily inside.

It contains a few ingredients, but not so much in the way of actual food.

Castiel: Ugh.

PAGE TWENTY-ONE

Giving up on the contents of the fridge, Castiel slams it shut. Yawning, he rubs the sleep from his eyes, then notices a note taped to the door.

No coffee left, sorry bro :( See you in a few days, hopefully with Porkchop! - Gabe P.S. No parties while I’m away! I want in on that shit. P.P.S. Dude, you murdered the kitchen plants. Again.

Castiel rolls his eyes. He’s far too lacking in caffeine right now to deal with his brother--even in note form.

Castiel: Damn it, Gabe. Now I'll have to find pants.

PAGE TWENTY-TWO

Castiel checks his laptop bag, making sure he has his power cord and notebook before he leaves the house. He’s finally dressed--wearing a soft sweater and dark jeans, a pentacle pendant hanging around his neck on a leather cord.

It’s a bright, sunny day out, but it’s still chilly enough outside that he slips on his coat. He turns the collar up against the breeze.

The small town is quiet as he makes his way down the main street. He passes a store stocked with a little bit of everything, right beside the post office. Coffee and cheese and a gumball machine stand behind the window; sausages hang from the ceiling above. The glass door is marked Bess & Garth General Goods. A sandwich board advertises their wares--from dog toys to coffee and meat.

PAGE TWENTY-THREE

Eventually, he passes Bass Antique Books, but despite his usual interest in bookstores, he doesn’t even glance in the window.

His eyes are instead drawn to the man crouched in front of the next building, setting out a few small cacti in front of a chalkboard that reads ADOPT A CACTUS TODAY! Beneath the text, he’s drawn a cute little cactus with a smiling face.

This man is, of course, Dean Winchester.

Castiel doesn’t know that yet, but he does know that whoever he is, he’s beautiful. Sandy hair and freckles, and a detailed tattoo that extends from his bicep and disappears under the short sleeve of his black t-shirt. Warm eyes.

Castiel can’t help but stare.

PAGE TWENTY-FOUR

As he passes by Winchester Flowers and Plants, Castiel shares a brief moment of eye contact with Dean. It’s charged. Exciting.

His cheeks grow hot, and though he’s deeply embarrassed by this uncharacteristically strong reaction to a man he doesn’t even know, he’s gratified to see that he’s not the only one blushing. The pink of Dean’s cheeks makes his freckles stand out.

Crossing the street, Castiel allows himself a small, pleased smile.

Behind him, Dean glances down with a smile of his own.

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thegreatestfitzgerald-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

BABS FITZGERALD - AESTHETICS

Rules: bold any which apply to your OC; remember to repost; feel free to add to the list.

[ COLORS ]

red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. blue grey. crimson. cream. mint green. cobalt blue. lime green. beige. khaki. light brown. grey. olive green. lavender. pine green.

[ ELEMENTS ]

fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic. storm. shadow. energy. ether.

[ BODY ]

claws. nails. long fingers. thin fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tail. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. fur. hair. curls. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tiny. tall. normal height. muscular. lean. piercing. tattoos. lithe. moles. dimples. scruffy. mangy. bony. skinny. pale.

[ WEAPONS ]

fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth. rifles. words.

[ MATERIALS ]

gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amber. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. jade. latex. obsidian. flint. crystal.

[ NATURE ]

grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. lake. stream. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies. galaxies. stardust. sky. storms. herbs. stone. shade. night. day. soil. dirt. wind. sandstorm. hurricane. flood. volcano. glacier. jungle. swamp. canyon. trench. hills. plains. prairies. fields. wilderness. garden. pebbles. sticks. ponds. cliffs. lagoons. spring. autumn. winter. summer. sunrise. sunset. full moon. new moon. mud. puddles. icicles. pine trees. pine cones. wildflowers. vines. ivy. maelstrom. eclipse.

[ ANIMALS ]

lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. bees. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes. bluebirds. deer. dingos. jackals. tigers. bats. sea serpents. raccoons. squirrels. mooses. elk. seals. badgers. elephants. giraffes. vultures. coyotes. sasquatches. yetis. gorillas. chimps. monkeys. lemurs. jaguars. panthers. cougars. hummingbirds. butterflies. alligators. crocodiles. frogs. toads.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ]

sugar. salt. bitter. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. lime. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. dark chocolate. white chocolate. mint. cream. ice cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia. honey. curry. gumbo. shrimp. noodles. macaroni. pasta. jerky. beans. fried food. fast food. soul food. soup. pumpkin. popcorn. crisps. cookies. biscuits. brownies. bacon. sausage. eggs. pancakes. waffles.

[ HOBBIES ]

music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. wood carving. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. history. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. driving. racing. eating. flight. climbing. running. jogging. exploring. partying. yoga. camping. hiking. sailing. fishing. stargazing. swimming. concerts. dueling. sparring. hunting. tracking. science. literature. soccer. football. rugby. ultimate frisbee. baseball. basketball. track. cheering. tennis. bowling. golfing. riding. mysteries. mischief. pranking. thieving. stealing. shopping. fashion. surfing. skateboarding. illusions.

[ STYLE ]

lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. flower crown. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. flannel. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. fingerless gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. eyeliner. ties. bowties. suits. uniform. fancy shoes. leather jacket. sport underwear. converse. combat boots. sneakers. shorts. shawls. kimonos. overalls. skinny jeans. bohemian. edgy. couture. designer. sweatpants. boxers. briefs. tank tops. sports uniform. jerseys. hiking boots. cargo pants. band tees. crop tops. bralettes.

[ MISC ]

balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. sex. intimacy. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. bittersweet. happiness. luck. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. compassion. love. hugs. revenge. lust. regrets. passion. spontaneity. cursing. recklessness. practicality. hope. greed. envy. gluttony. wrath. hate. loathing. intensity. aura. soul. chains. fences. cages. backyards. house. home. castle. cabin. newspapers. books. journals. gardens. pencils. pens. ink. sheets. laundry. organized. messy. confidence. doubt. destruction. creation. paranormal. ghosts. cemeteries. graveyards. bones. skin. blood. needles. razors. new. old. ancient. rural. urban. local. stranger. cars. bikes. trucks. planes. travel. marbles. calligraphy. languages. medicine. healing. spirituality. religion.

#about #//this picture is so her tbh

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river-phillips · 7 years ago

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RIVER PHILLIPS - AESTHETICS

Rules: bold any which apply to your OC; remember to repost; feel free to add to the list.

I’m stealing this too don’t mind me

[ COLORS ]

red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green.apple red. navy blue. blue grey. crimson. blood red. cream. mint green. cobalt blue. lime green. beige. khaki. light brown. olive green. lavender. pine green.

[ ELEMENTS ]

[ BODY ]

[ WEAPONS ]

[ MATERIALS ]

[ NATURE ]

grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. lake. stream. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies. galaxies. stardust. sky. storms. herbs. stone. shade. night. day. soil. dirt. wind. sandstorm. hurricane. flood. volcano. glacier. jungle. swamp. canyon. trench. hills. plains. prairies. fields. wilderness. garden. pebbles. sticks. ponds. cliffs. lagoons. spring. autumn. winter. summer. full moon. new moon. puddles. icicles. pine trees. pine cones. wildflowers. vines. ivy. maelstrom. eclipse.

[ ANIMALS ]

[ FOODS/DRINKS ]

[ HOBBIES ]

music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. wood carving. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. history. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. driving. racing. eating. flight. climbing. running. jogging. exploring. partying. yoga. camping. hiking. sailing. fishing. stargazing. swimming. concerts. dueling. sparring. hunting. tracking. science. literature. soccer. football. rugby. ultimate frisbee. baseball. softball. basketball. track. cheering. tennis. bowling. golfing. riding. mysteries. mischief. pranking. thieving. stealing. shopping. fashion. surfing. skateboarding.

[ STYLE ]

lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. flower crown. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. flannel. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. fingerless gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. eyeliner. ties. bowties. suits. uniform. fancy shoes. leather jacket. denim jacket. sport underwear. converse. combat boots. sneakers. shorts. shawls. kimonos. overalls. skinny jeans. bohemian. edgy. couture. designer. sweatpants. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. tank tops. sports uniform. jerseys. hiking boots. cargo pants. band tees. crop tops. bralettes.

[ MISC ]

#character meme #about #//this is so cool #i'll do it for babs later

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danisavin · 7 years ago

Photo

dani savin character aesthetics

bold any which apply to your OC; remember to repost; feel free to add to the list (i added so many things).

-- - colors

red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. blue grey. crimson. blood red. cream. mint green. cobalt blue. lime green. beige. khaki. light brown. grey. olive green. lavender. pine green.

-- - elements

-- - body (some of these are metaphorical)

-- - weapons

-- - materials

-- - nature

grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. lake. stream. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies. galaxies. stardust. sky. storms. herbs. stone. shade. night. day. soil. dirt. wind. sandstorm. hurricane. flood. volcano. glacier. jungle. swamp. canyon. trench. hills. plains. prairies. fields. wilderness. garden. pebbles. sticks. ponds. cliffs. lagoons. spring. autumn. winter. summer. sunrise. sunset. full moon. new moon. rain. snow. sleet. ice. hail. mud. puddles. icicles. pine trees. pine cones. wildflowers. vines. ivy. maelstrom. eclipse.

-- - animals

lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. bees. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes. bluebirds. deer. dingos. jackals. tigers. bats. thestrals. sea serpents. raccoons. squirrels. mooses. elk. seals. badgers. elephants. giraffes. vultures. coyotes. sasquatches. yetis. gorillas. chimps. monkeys. lemurs. jaguars. panthers. cougars. hummingbirds. butterflies. alligators. crocodiles. frogs. toads.

-- - food & drinks

-- - hobbies

-- - style

-- - miscellaneous

#( hc. )#( cd. )#( dani. )#i am also jumping on this train

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sachertortes · 7 years ago

Note

Congratulations! I'd enjoy some Darcy/Tony, funny meeting at a party theme #1 If you do this, thank you sooo much. Your writing is pretty spectacular.

:D :D :D Thanks so much! Of course, I’ll try my hand at Tony x Darcy (it feels a bit wobbly to me still, but I hope you enjoy!)

Prompt: Funny meeting at a party, #1, “i was on my balcony and you started loudly quoting romeo and juliet at me”

Pairing: Tony x Darcy

Rating: T

Notes: I gave our girl a PhD in this bc it’s in my power to do so :P *Oprah voice* you get a PhD! you get a PhD!!!

Darcy leaned against the balcony, grateful for the cool night air across the back of her neck. Stark’s parties were always amazing, but sometime around 1am she usually started to feel claustrophobic and too hot. She must be getting old.

She sipped at her candy apple martini (it was bright red, and had gold leaf on the rim because Tony Stark was the least subtle person on the planet) and listened politely as Helen Cho talked about her plans for the rest of the weekend. (Genius geneticist and an avid free climber? She was a madwoman.)

Cho was in the middle of lamenting the cost of proper rock shoes when suddenly, there was giggling from below them.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks! It is the east and Darcy is the sun!!” The man called out loudly and flung his arms dramatically to the heavens.

Helen nudged her none too gently and Darcy’s drink sloshed dangerously in its glass. “Darcy, that’s Tony Stark!”

“Oh my god,” Darcy squeaked as Helen threw her head back and cackled with laughter “What in the world is he doing? How does he even know – ”

“The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly into your service!” Tony yelled. His tie was loosened, and he was grinning up at her. Bruce Banner stood next to him, pinching the bridge of nose and trying desperately to blend in with a topiary.

“He’s mixing up the plays,” Darcy said, one hand on her hip.

“That’s what you’re getting from this?!” asked Helen incredulously.

She handed her drink off to Helen, then leaned over the railing.

“How drunk are you, Stark?”

“Rude! I was in the middle of a solil – a solay – I was in the middle of wooing the beautiful scientist!”

Darcy rolled her eyes.

Wooing.

Apparently she was being wooed. By Tony Stark of all people.

Okay, so she wasn’t completely immune.

Tony Stark was hot. He was confident. He also had like, a million advanced degrees and Darcy, herself the recent recipient of a PhD, was a person who’d quite inadvertently surrounded herself with geniuses of all disciplines.

Smart was sexy as hell.

But she also knew that Stark’s penchant for going through women like…well, a playboy billionaire, was legendary.

She was understandably cautious.

“So whaddaya say, Lewis?” Tony called out again. “You, me, dinner? Or you, me, Italy? I can have the jet ready tomorrow. Sunbathing on the Amalfi coast, baby!”

“Sleep it off, Romeo!” she yelled back, even as her martini-addled brain was coming up with interesting new ways to break public indecency laws on the beach with Tony. She told her brain to shut up and dragged a pouting Helen back inside.

On Monday morning, Darcy shuffled blearily into the lab before her morning coffee no less, to find a giant unicorn on her desk.

It was pink. Its horn was a glittery purple. It smiled manically at her with big shiny eyes.

“What – ”

“Tony,” Bruce finished for her distractedly, while swiping his way through a holo-screen littered with equations. How he could do advanced mathematics before 9am would always be a mystery to her.

Darcy groaned and picked up the phone.

He answered after the first ring.

“Do you like it?” he asked, sounding a bit breathless.

There was grunting in the background, the sound of machines whirring. Morning workout then. She scrunched her nose. At least she hoped it was a morning workout.

“Stark – ”

“Tony.”

“Tony. Why is there a giant mythological creature on my desk? Before I’ve had my coffee?”

“You don’t like him? His name is Periwinkle. He told me he likes rainbows, and sparkles, and says there’s a reservation waiting for us at Pearl at 7 this Friday if you’re up for it. He says to wear those heels that do that thing that make your ass look – ”

“Tony!”

“Yes, darling,” he purred.

“I am not your darling. No thanks to the dinner.”

“Huh. …And the unicorn?”

She paused. “I’m keeping it,” she said, and hung up on him.

“Is Tony trying to ask you out again?” Bruce asked, a small smile playing on his face.

Darcy shrugged, and ran her fingers through the Perwinkle’s hot pink mane. “I guess.”

“He went straight to the stuffed animals. He likes you a lot.”

“He likes the chase a lot. He likes buying stuff a lot. Jury’s out on whether he actually likes the sarcastic lady who yells at him sometimes.” She took the unicorn off her desk, and petted it a little sadly. “You men are so weird,” she said as Bruce went back to his work, completely oblivious. “I wish Janey was here.”

On Thursday afternoon, there were a shit ton of flowers waiting for her in her apartment.

“Whaaat the fuck,” Darcy stated as she took in the lilies and orchids and roses that were on her sofa, on every surface in her kitchen, the garland (an actual garland!) strung over the doorway to her bedroom. It was as if Tony watched that one scene from The Great Gatsby movie, shrugged, and said, ‘I could do better.’

Tony himself was standing in her living room, holding one single white orchid, smiling hopefully.

He gestured at his surroundings proudly.

“You keep buying things,” she said, simply. “And you broke into my apartment.”

Tony raised one shoulder. “I’m good at buying things. And you keep your key under your doormat.”

“You can be good at other stuff.”

“I’m good at that too,” Tony said waggling his brows.

“So I’ve heard,” Darcy said with a bit more bitterness than she wanted to. Tony’s features softened, and he was no longer leering. She sighed, moved a bouquet of white roses out of the way, and sat down heavily onto her couch motioning for him to join her.

“Actual romance,” she said, after he sat down next to her. “Romance you can’t buy.”

Tony smiled with a gleam in his eyes. She knew that gleam. That was his ‘Challenge Accepted’ gleam.

Oh no.

That Friday, Tony gawped at her.

“I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? Did you say that you want to drive into Manhattan? On a Friday before a holiday?”

Darcy shrugged. “Not drive. I’m taking the bus.”

Tony made a face like she just suggested he run Windows Vista in his suits. “That’s it. Get your stuff, and meet me in the garage in five.”

For that entire afternoon, Tony gamely followed her around no less than four used book stores and even accompanied her to Zabar’s when she decided that what people really needed at the facility were black and white cookies. No small feat considering the holiday crowds.

Finally, laden down with bags of old books and treats, Darcy called for a break.

“Let’s get something to eat,” she said to Tony, who had seen her purchase of The Long Goodbye and was idly flipping through it in the middle of the cheese section, much to the annoyance of other shoppers.

“Thank god. I’m starving, I’ll just call – ”

“No, no fancy places with reservations. Just…follow me,” Darcy said and took the box of cookies from Tony before he could eat them all.

A bit later, they were sitting on a bench in Riverside Park eating hot dogs. Tony had a spot of mustard at the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve got a…here.” Darcy reached over and swiped at the spot with her thumb, then licked it off her finger.

Tony grinned. “So.” He looked at her with barely contained mirth. “Aren’t we just the cutest – “

Darcy sighed. “Don’t ruin the moment, Tony.”

“Who me? I’d never. I was trying to say that we make a good team. Why, what’d you think I was doing?”

Darcy rolled her eyes but smiled anyways. She nudged the toe of her red Converse to his Oxford. He winked at her then took another bite of his hot dog.

Sunday night, Darcy walked into her apartment to find that it was already occupied.

She was ready to scream at the intruder but then she saw the familiar scarf and the familiar face beneath the knit hat.

“Jane!” Darcy yelled and flung herself into her best friend’s arms. Jane hugged her back, laughing, tightening her arms around the other girl.

“Surprise!” Jane said, voice slightly muffled by Darcy’s hair.

A soft cough alerted Darcy to Tony’s presence. He stood off to the side, hands in his pockets, watching with a pleased look on his face.

“You’ve brought me Jane?!” Darcy grinned.

Jane smiled into the fabric of Darcy’s sweater. She pulled back, flicking Darcy’s nose gently.

“Hey! I brought myself. The conference was a bust anyways. Boring and totally, as you’d say, a sausage fest. Tony did call me and offered to fly me back though.”

“I didn’t pay for it!” Tony interjected, before Darcy could say anything. “I used my frequent flyer miles.”

“You have frequent flyer miles?” Darcy asked.

“I got to sit in First Class. My god, the leg room,” breathed Jane happily. “And they gave me champagne and cookies!”

Tony shuffled a bit, looking as unsure as she’d ever seen him and said, “Alright, Lewis, I’m going crazy here. Did I pass or –“

So Darcy just walked up to Tony Stark and planted one on him. Not to be outdone, Tony kissed her back just as fiercely, grinning all the while and winding an arm about her waist. He was doing things with his tongue that made her feel like her hairs were standing on end.

Vaguely, over the buzzing in her veins, Darcy heard Jane’s voice. “Um. Did I miss something? And why do have so many flowers in here?”

#tony x darcy #irontaser #darcyland #darcy lewis #irontaser fic #prompt fill #sachertortes fic

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surfingthesealand · 7 years ago

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Vancouver & Victoria’s Christmas Date: Chapter 3

Vancouver and Victoria stepped inside a warm and comfy log cabin out of the biting winter cold, doubling up as a hot dog shack. They made their space in a corner decked with plump ruby red-leather sofas and armchairs, and embellished with fluffy down cushions of various shades of red from dark to light.

“Hot dog, Van?” Victoria asked her peckish boyfriend.

“Yeah.” Vancouver nodded, breathing hot air into the palms of his gloves.

Victoria approached the queue, but quickly turned back to him. “What sauce do you want?”

“Tomato.”

“Alright, two hot dogs coming up.”

Vancouver stuffed a cushion under the seat of his insulated trousers and behind his back for extra comfort. He slipped off his gloves, fetched his phone from his jean pocket and began tapping away at the screen, checking up on his social profiles.

“Could I have two hot dogs, please? And put tomato sauce on my boyfriend’s. He’s over there.”

“Right on.”

The cook squirted a thin, wavy bright red squiggle of ketchup onto Vancouver’s hot dog. Victoria shovelled the dogs off the counter in the cups of her gloves and lay them down on the table.

“My favourite.” Vancouver stowed his phone away and hastily snapped up his saucy dog. “But it needs a bit more ketchup.”

He grabbed the bottle of ketchup from the centre of the table, squeezing it just a little too much. A jet of ketchup splattered against the front of his shirt, and he gasped with shock.

“Oops.” Vancouver flushed almost the same shade of scarlet as the ketchup on his shirt. Victoria tut-tutted and handed him a tissue.

“Eh, it’s red. It won’t show up on my shirt, honest.” Vancouver grinned awkwardly, scrubbing the stray ketchup off.

“Vancouver, don’t rush things so much,” Victoria admonished him, then she smiled. “Alright, time to get eating.”

Vancouver carefully shot some more ketchup out onto his dog, and blissfully chomped down one tomato-flavoured and meaty bite at a time. Victoria kept it simple, eating her dog fresh and ungarnished from the fryer. Vancouver reached down to his lap and swept off some wandering breadcrumbs with the side of his glove.

“Vancouver, are you itching down there?” Victoria looked a little suspicious at her boyfriend.

“No.” Vancouver innocently tilted his head aside, blinking in a gaze.

“Vancouver…” Victoria turned to the other diners. “He’s crazy, my boyfriend is. You wouldn’t understand unless you get to know him.” She gave them a little wink.

Vancouver gobbled up the last morsel of dog, wiping the ketchup around his mouth with the dab of his tissue.

“Let’s go get a hot drink to warm our mouths and hearts,” Victoria suggested as she picked up the empty holders and tidied them away in the bin.

“Always love cocoa on a cold winter’s day – or night.” Vancouver noticed the aquamarine sky rippled with cloudy streaks of amethyst, cinnabar and amber, despite it being only one in the afternoon.

“I’d like marshmallows and whipped cream in mine.”

Vancouver cupped his deluxe hot cocoa in his gloves, the heat radiating through the wool insulating his hands. The barista sprinkled in some mini pink and white marshmallows, finishing off with a spray of whipped cream on top. Victoria took a small sip of her vanilla cocoa, linking her arm around her boyfriend’s as they strolled towards the market.

“Ooh, better lap up the cream quick, or it’s gonna melt.” Vancouver rather noisily licked the mountain of cream off the top of his cocoa, getting some of it on the tip of his nose and around the corners of his mouth.

“Vancouver, Vancouver, Vancouver.” Victoria had kept a spare tissue from the hot dog shack for times like this. She dabbed at Vancouver’s face to wipe the dashes of cream off. “This is a date, remember?”

“Well, it’s not really a formal date, is it? We’re just out here to enjoy the festivities.”

Vancouver sniffed out something roasted, meaty and gamey in the frosty air, distracting him. “Speaking of which…”

“Turkey tonight,” Victoria smiled.

She and Vancouver both sipped on their cups of cocoa, making the first step into the market. Ruby and emerald baubles decked every one of the many stalls, with aromatic wreaths of holly, rosemary and cinnamon gracing the roofs. The holiday scents of turkey, mulled wine, Christmas pudding, orange with cloves and mince pies all blended together into one conglomerated perfume of the festive season.

“Hello Victoria!” Kitchener’s delightful voice came from the turkey stall.

“Oh, hello Kitchener.” Vancouver stirred around, his cocoa almost spilling over the brim.

“These turkeys are freshly roasted, so it’ll save on all that hard work in the kitchen – and you’ll get to spend more of Christmas with your loved ones.”

Kitchener slipped on his heatproof gloves and slid a tanned turkey out of the oven, sprinkling some sprigs of rosemary over it. Vancouver came closer, the rosemary fragrance flowing over his scalp and relaxing him. He took a deep sniff.

“Man, I love herbs… Especially rosemary and mint.”

“Oh, the stuffing’s got a hint of mint in it, actually. Gives it a bit of flavour.”

Kitchener rolled some fresh mint leaves into some balls of onion and sage stuffing. He caught a slight whiff of tomato from Vancouver.

“But I didn’t add any tomatoes.”

Victoria also approached the counter. “My silly boyfriend splattered himself with ketchup. He cleaned it off, but now he’s going to smell of tomato for as long as he’s wearing that shirt,” she giggled.

“I told you, it’s red, so it doesn’t show up.” Vancouver tugged down the front of his shirt slightly in front of Kitchener, patting the back of his head sheepishly.

“Well, get yourself a freshly-roasted, lovely juicy turkey for tonight, and a stain on your Christmas sweater will be the only thing you’ll have to worry about,” encouraged Kitchener.

Victoria picked up the turkey which was bronzed the deepest shade of tan. “What will you take for this one?”

“Ten dollars. Great deal, isn’t it?”

Victoria handed him a note, and he ripped off a sheet of tinfoil just wide enough to wrap around the whole turkey. It felt pleasantly toasty in Victoria’s cupped hands, and she stuffed it into a weaved seagrass basket. Vancouver placed his cold face close to the turkey to warm his cheeks.

“Not too close, Van, you’ll burn your face.”

“Let him, he’s your boyfriend after all,” laughed Kitchener. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” said Victoria, and she and Vancouver set off deeper into the market. They skimmed each one of the stalls, testing out the festive wares and eats with their gloved fingers. Vancouver stopped by a stall selling homemade mince pies by the masses, sniffing out the buttery shortbread pastry and orange-infused mincemeat mixture.

“Don’t get a whole dozen, Vancouver. There’s only two of us.”

“But we gotta keep some for Santa too, right?” Vancouver picked up a mince pie, trying to resist munching it down.

“And his reindeer.”

Victoria gave in to Vancouver’s insistence, buying a whole box of mince pies. He tried to tear the flaps open to pilfer one, but Victoria gave him a light slap on the hand, shaking her head jadedly.

A scent even stronger than the fruity mincemeat tickled Vancouver’s nose. He could catch faint notes of pine, cinnamon and apple, those classic Christmas fragrances. He jerked slightly onto Victoria’s scarf trail, dazed by the aroma.

“Vancouver…?”

Victoria felt herself being hauled along with her boyfriend.

“Don’t pull so hard, my scarf’s going to loosen itself.”

Vancouver slunk by the candle stall, his eyes gazing upon the stacks of candles in holly green, berry red and snowy white. The scents strengthened inside his nose, letting go of Victoria’s scarf as he inhaled a deep sniff.

“Candles? How romantic.”

Victoria picked up a few samples of each of the varieties of candle, glancing at the labels. Vancouver studied the candles more closely, sniffing each one. From the green, he picked up on the earthy yet lush hints of a fresh Christmas tree. The red emanated a delicious perfume of apple and cinnamon, while the white imparted a silky vanilla tone.

“Ooh, sniff these,” he told Victoria, and she also sniffed each of the candles.

“Don’t mind a couple to light up our Christmas dinner.”

Vancouver selected one out of both the apple and vanilla candles, which Victoria promptly purchased.

“This’ll be enough for today, okay? We’ve got everything else back home.”

He glimpsed up to the sky, which was now dimming to dark sapphire marbled with jasper. “We’ve got a little more time to enjoy the fairground rides before the early sunset.”

Vancouver and Victoria were secured into their seats on the spinning chairs. Vancouver, with his head down, rattled the chain and brushed his feet back and forth against the ground, as if in apprehension over how high they would be towed up.

“Vancouver, it’ll only go up a few inches. No need to worry about heights this time,” Victoria assured him.

“But I’ve just eaten, and I might get dizzy again.” Vancouver felt a little sweaty despite the December cold.

“Remember what I told you – don’t focus on the motion of the ride.”

A small metallic clunk and whirr sent the chairs onto their cycle of spins. Vancouver grasped onto the chains.

“Vancouver, your arm’s on my head!”

“Sorry, I just need to hold on to something.”

“Well, hold onto your chain and not mine.”

Victoria gently coaxed Vancouver’s hand off. With each revolution, the chairs lifted themselves slightly off the ground until everybody’s feet were airborne enough to wave around freely. Vancouver’s stomach dipped, and he could still taste the ketchup-flavoured pork sausage from his hot dog inside.

“I can feel my lunch coming up.”

“Close your eyes, Vancouver.”

Vancouver slowly closed his eyes and tried hard to hone his focus onto the blackness instead of the whirling of the chairs. He inhaled short but deep breaths to calm his racing heart, inclining his head up to the sky.

“Good boy.”

Vancouver’s mindfulness seemed to be doing the trick. His stomach eased, and the warm sweat on his bared flesh dried up. He blinked his eyes open for a short moment to see that they weren’t really that high above the ground, just a few centimetres above it.

“I think I feel better now,” Vancouver smiled to his girlfriend.

“See, it works when you stay calm,” Victoria smiled too.

“That went by quickly,” remarked Vancouver.

“You had your eyes closed pretty much the entire time,” giggled Victoria. “So I guess you’re a bit more confident with riding high now.”

“Emphasis on ‘a bit’…” Vancouver chuckled rather tensely. He glanced towards the sky, now midnight blue with an aura of azure. “I think we can do a couple more rides before it gets completely dark.”

“The city looks a whole lot more spectacular at night, doesn’t it?” Victoria commented on the thousands of emerald, amber and ruby lights of the blackened skyline while she and Vancouver waited their turn for the helter-skelter.

“Guess so.” Vancouver’s heart was tickling a little due to the height.

The attendant beckoned Victoria on, and she sat at the peak on top of a bristly mat. Vancouver stared down the length of the slide as his girlfriend rode downwards, spiralling around the centre pillar and cheering the whole way.

“I’m coming, Vic!” he called after her, swiping a mat and pushing himself down. He slid so fast that he bumped into her while she was still at the end.

“Vancouver, you should’ve waited your turn so I could get out of the way on time!” she reprimanded him.

“Well, sorry, I was thinking too fast…” Vancouver palmed the back of his head apologetically.

“Oh, you foolish boy. Let’s go down the slide again, and this time you wait.”

The couple retrieved both of their mats and re-ascended the steps, where they were quicker for their second descent. Victoria sat back down on the summit, holding a stretched-out palm to Vancouver to stop him rushing, and promptly glided down the helter-skelter without a hitch. Vancouver waited a moment for her to move out of the way, and he pushed himself again. Halfway down the slide, he came to a sudden stop.

“Oh, uh… I seem to have hit a sticky spot…” he giggled nervously, tossing back to the bemused riders back at the top. “Eh, don’t worry, I’ll just get myself going again.”

Vancouver budged himself from side to side to get himself unstuck, but he misjudged a tiny manoeuvre and ended up slipping down the slide headfirst, clutching onto tiny straws off his mat and hollering out. Victoria flipped around and gasped in shock as he shuttled down the rest of the slide and landed facedown in the crisp crystalline snow, shovelling it aside.

“Vancouver! Look at you, you’ve got snow on your scalp!” she exclaimed, lugging him up off the snow and dusting him off with the palm of her glove.

“Well, at least it’s not dandruff,” Vancouver tittered, shaking his whole body vigorously to get rid of the snow Victoria hadn’t brushed off.

Victoria mollified herself. “So since you were so calm on the spinning chairs, and the city’s much more beautiful at night, shall we ride the Ferris wheel again?”

Vancouver’s dark hazel irises dilated, but he remembered his relaxing technique. “Alright.”

Vancouver and Victoria clambered back into the carriage on the Ferris wheel they rode in the last time.

“So just keep calm this time and you’ll be okay,” Victoria reassured Vancouver. “And you’ll also get to see all the lights of the city.”

Vancouver restarted his sequence of inhaling and exhaling deep breaths while Victoria held tightly on to his hand. The wheel once again ground itself into action, and Vancouver’s breathing deepened. Even while trying to relax himself, his legs trembled on their own instinct.

“Keep still, Van.”

Vancouver fought against the tremors in his legs as he continued breathing in and out.

“Come on, look at the lights.”

The carriage swung across the peak, and Vancouver managed to keep his eyes open just in time to see the amazing display of rainbow lights amongst the midnight-blue winter sky and the white sprinkles of snowflakes.

“Isn’t it magical?” Victoria’s eyes widened in admiration at the scene.

Vancouver’s heart leapt, not out of anxiety, but out of awe. “It sure is.”

“Home now, Van? I don’t want this turkey to get cold.”

“Yeah. It’s cold, anyway. Our house is warm.”

Vancouver and Victoria, hand in hand, made their way out of the fair, being careful to not get swallowed up by the crowd. They returned to the spot where they’d arrived that morning, but switched to the opposite side so as to go home. As before, they huddled up to each other for extra body warmth. Vancouver tucked his head into Victoria’s chest to prevent another mildly embarrassing episode of snowflakes on his scalp being mistaken for dandruff.

The bus came quicker this time around, as if the driver was concerned about all the people waiting out in the bitter chill. Vancouver and Victoria were first on board, taking up a couple of seats at the very back for maximum heat and comfort.

Feeling a little heavy-eyed, Vancouver rested his head upon Victoria’s shoulder, his eyelids slowly shuttering. He slept deeply for the entire journey home, hazy apparitions of rainbow Christmas lights dancing in the darkness behind his closed eyes.

#surfing the sea #canadian boys #canadian boys: vancouver #canadian boys: victoria #vancouver #victoria #date #christmas #christmas 2017 #creative writing #writing #story #story chapter #chapter

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solastia · 7 years ago

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Crazy Little Thing Called Love | 1

Pairing: Baekhyun x OC (Crystal)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, this series will have it all. Idol AU

Word Count: 2,172

Note: (ONCE AGAIN: Moving from my old blog to here, so if this is familiar to you, you’ve probably read it before) Basically, this was just a short and sweet little story I put together just to see if I could do it. So I apologize in advance if it’s crap lol. Also, I know it’s the usual thing to put “Y/N” instead of giving the character a name, but from the viewpoint, it just sounded better. Just envision your own name if you want lol.

The EXO fan meet was a huge success. One of the largest they’d ever had. There were thousands of people here, all screaming and crying and happy to see them. It had already been going on for a couple of hours. Baekhyun was bored. He was hungry. He was tired. However, he knew that the fans were more important than all of that, so he did his very best to paste the sunniest smile he could manage and hoped if he focused hard enough the thoughts of a giant pizza all to himself would go away.

Another half hour went by, every face blending into another, but Baekhyun smiled into everyone’s eyes, played with the toys they gave him and finally they were starting to reach the end of the line. He was playing with a Pikachu plushie someone had just given him when Kyungsoo, who was two chairs down from him, suddenly started to laugh like crazy. Baekhyun knew the difference between his fan and genuine laughs, so he was curious what was so funny that it had Kyungsoo dying of laughter, and took a peek at the person in front of him.

She was fairly cute from the side, he had to admit. All he could really see though was long brown hair and a cute pink Adidas sweater. She was really short but had curves in the right places, which he enjoyed. She was laughing as hard as Kyungsoo was, and her hair covered most of her face. She and Kyungsoo were talking together looking at the gift she’d given him, which from here looked like some sort of book. Knowing Soo’s fans, it was probably a recipe book. She had a handful of wrapped presents still, so he guessed she’d brought one for each of the members. Unfortunately, she was still too far down, so he couldn’t really see much more. He was interrupted from further inspection when a crying younger girl grabbed his hand and started telling him her story, so he went back to focusing.

Baekhyun was whispering to Chanyeol, who was on his right, when he heard the soft yet husky “Hello.” He recognized the pink sweater and looked up…she was cute! Warm brown eyes in a small heart-shaped face. Freckled nose. Small lips that were grinning shyly. If she were wearing any other makeup besides eyeliner, he’d be surprised. Baekhyun didn’t realize he was staring until her cheeks went pink and Chanyeol hit him in the side with an elbow.

“Hey there.” Baekhyun decided to have a little fun and turn on the charm, so he gave her what he thought was his best come-hither look. It had worked on so many others with great success, so he was unprepared when instead of falling into a slobbering mess of fan girl at his feet, she threw her head back and laughed.

“I’m sorry!” She managed to say in between giggles. “I’ve never seen anyone go from startled to flirty in 30 seconds before. It’s alright, you don’t have to put on the fan act with me."

Was that a snort he heard?

To get over his embarrassment, he went into auto mode and started signing the picture. "What’s your name?” he asked. “Crystal.” Of course; It was pretty like her.

Covering her mouth to stifle her laughs, she handed Baekhyun a small wrapped package and a gift bag. He peeked into the gift bag first, excited to see what appeared to be tons of snacks.

“I made one for each of you. I know these things tend to go on for a bit, so I knew you guys would be hungry. I made sure to include a few handfuls of those sausage things you like to stuff yourself with. I also gave you each a gift card to my Mom’s restaurant. No pressure, and of course I don’t even expect you guys to use it, but I figured the gift of a meal is the best thing to give a group of hungry guys.”

Baekhyun had to agree and wasted no time opening a sausage and munching hungrily on it while he opened the smaller package, which turned out to be a CD. Crystal blushed when he looked up and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I know that CD’s aren’t the hip thing anymore, but I wanted to give you this. It’s…well.” As she stuttered and blushed, Baekhyun’s confidence returned.

“Aww, Crystal, is this your confession?” He teased her, grinning mischievously into her eyes.

She picked up the discarded sausage wrapper and threw it at him playfully. “So what if it is?” She chuckled, before sighing. “It’s songs that I wrote for you. Stop grinning at me like that. I’m not saying they are all love songs or even all TO you.” She smiled up at Baekhyun, as he had his head propped in his hands smirking down at Crystal. He really liked her voice. It was soft and almost sensual, which was an exciting mix with her tiny and cute appearance. He suddenly wondered what she sounded like screaming. No, singing. He meant singing. Mind out of the gutter Baek, he thought to himself.

“I write and play music. That CD is filled mostly with songs that I wrote with your voice style in mind. And yes, there might be a few songs in there for you, but I won’t tell you which.” At this point, her blush was starting to reach her neck. “I just thought it would be a much more meaningful gift than expecting you to cart around 1000 plushies."

"Thank you. I will listen to it soon, and I promise not to tell anyone when I find the naughty song you wrote about me.” Baekhyun joked, earning a wink and giggle from her.

Baekhyun opened his mouth to keep talking to Crystal when he felt an elbow in his left side. Chen was looking at him impatiently, and he realized that he and Crystal were starting to hold up the line. He looked at the adorable woman in front of him regretfully, and she nodded in understanding. It’s not like she was going far away since she still had to make her way down the line. Baekhyun wondered why the thought of her talking to Chanyeol next bothered him. He impulsively grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it before winking at her, then quickly turned and said hello to the next person in line. He chuckled to himself because he could see from out of the corner of his eye that he unsettled her with that, and she was blushing and startled when Chanyeol started talking to her.

They’d finally finished with the line, and people were starting to get up and leave the building. Baekhyun had paid attention as Crystal had made her way down the rest of the line. He noticed that no matter who she talked to, no one else but him had made her blush, which made him proud for some reason. He also saw the gifts. Besides the gift bags of food, which he’d seen all of the guys eating their way through, it appeared she’d put thought into everyone’s personal gifts, and didn’t give anyone a plushie. Notebooks, picks, and a dog toy for Chanyeol. Recipe book and spices for Kyungsoo. Tea for Chen that was good for soothing throats. Louis Vuitton dog jacket for Sehun’s Vivi. She also didn’t cry or scream at anyone, just a gentle smile, and laugh. She had even laughed at Suho’s horrible wordplay joke that he’d heard 5000 times, making Suho look incredibly proud of himself.

Baekhyun couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. Sure, he’d seen his share of cute fans before and had women throwing themselves at him daily. So why couldn’t he stop staring at her? He followed Crystal’s back as she made her way to the exit. Would she look back? Should he call out to her? The room wasn’t as full anymore. No, he couldn’t do that. Then he’d have to explain himself to the guys. So he stayed silent, watching and memorizing the sway of her long hair as she left.

Almost as if he’d willed it to happen, there was a loud crash sound as Chanyeol was playing around and knocked over a couple of chairs. Several people turned to see, Crystal among them. She gave the scene a small smile and looked over and locked eyes with Baekhyun, who hadn’t stopped staring. He sends her an air kiss which earns him a full genuine smile from Crystal. They both wave, and with a bite of her lip, she turns around and heads out of the exit.

He wonders why the room suddenly feels gloomy. He’s being ridiculous, he knows. Sighing to himself, he starts to pick up all the fan gifts in front of him, smiling to himself when he gets to Crystal’s CD. It’s not the first time he’s received music from people, usually trying to use him to get into the music business. However, he’s really excited to listen to this one. He imagines her husky voice singing is incredible. Chanyeol comes up rubbing his knee, which he must have hurt in the chair fiasco, before grabbing Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Hey, so, we don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow, right?"

"I don’t think so. Why? Did you wanna do something?”

“We all got gift cards to a restaurant. I thought we could use them. It’s a place I’ve actually heard of before. Home cooking type place. I could use some real food."

Baekhyun froze in place. The restaurant! It’s was Crystal’s! Could he get away with seeing her again? Should he?

Baekhyun cleared his throat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"Why not. Since we don’t have other plans.” Did that sound convincingly unconcerned? Aiiish, he was acting stupid.

Later that night, Baekhyun sat with Crystal’s CD in his hand, preparing himself. He put it in, pressed play and closed his eyes. She had everything on here, ranging from a seductive jazz sound, pop, R&B, and one of the most touching ballads he’d ever heard. Her voice had incredible range, going from soft and sexy to high notes that Chen would even be impressed by.

He froze when suddenly he heard her clearing her throat on a track, and she was saying “OK, so if you’ve made it this far in the CD, not only am I impressed, but I’m very touched. So, I suppose I’ll sing you a song. This one is obviously not mine, but it’s one that makes me think of you. God, that sounds cheesy. I’m not really the overly emotional, screaming "OMG I LOVE YOU” type, but it’s there. Even if you don’t care, or I am never able to come to another one of these fan things, I hope that you stay healthy and happy. Since I became a fan of EXO, you’ve been my…muse, I suppose. Suddenly your smile alone makes me think of a new melody. Wow, I’m being silly. Sorry. Not that you care, I’m sure. Right now you’re probably like, “Wow, I could be out sleeping with a model. Instead I’m listening to this wench ramble on.” Anyway, there are other songs on here that are actually about you, but it seems more embarrassingly personal to tell you which, so I will just sing you this one.“ Her throat clears again, and as the sounds of an acoustic guitar and her soothing voice filled his ears, he hears what is a ballad version of a song he knows well.

This thing called love I just can’t handle it this thing called love I must get round to it I ain’t ready Crazy little thing called love This (This Thing) called love (Called Love) It cries (Like a baby) In a cradle all night It swings (Woo Woo) It jives (Woo Woo) It shakes all over like a jelly fish, I kinda like it Crazy little thing called love There goes my baby She knows how to Rock n’ roll She drives me crazy She gives me hot and cold fever Then she leaves me in a cool cool sweat I gotta be cool relax, get hip Get on my track’s Take a back seat, hitch-hike And take a long ride on my motor bike Until I’m ready Crazy little thing called love I gotta be cool relax, get hip Get on my track’s Take a back seat, hitch-hike And take a long ride on my motor bike Until I’m ready (Ready Freddie) Crazy little thing called love This thing called love I just can’t handle it this thing called love I must get round to it I ain’t ready Crazy little thing called love

Baekhyun listened with a grin and hit shuffle when it was over, preparing to listen to the CD again as he drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough.

#exo fanfiction #Baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #byun baekhyun #exo fluff #exo angst #exo smut #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x oc #exo #kpop #kpop fanfiction #solastia

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