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pink-flame · 4 years ago

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Juke Bodyguard AU Pt.3

Here it is! The third and final part of the Juke Bodyguard AU inspired by your requests from the trope game. I reserve the right to do a standalone in this universe at some point but this wraps things up nicely for now. Enjoy!

Part 1

Part 2

Bodyguard AU + Love Confessor (Character A confessing their love for Character B to Character C)

Julie was used to change.

Bad change like when her mom got sick and she had to learn who she was when she couldn’t see it reflected back at her through her mother’s eyes. Bad change like when music felt like a stranger and everything she had ever wanted seemed suddenly pointless.

Good change like when she found her way back to it with a vengeance, Alex and her dad and Reggie and Carlos and Flynn refusing to give up until she started chasing her dream again. Good change like when against all odds those dreams actually started coming true, the record deal, and the hit albums and now her first national tour, a new city every night.

What she wasn’t used to was waiting for a change that didn’t seem to be coming.

She had been so sure after what she now internally referred to as “the flu incident” that things between her and Luke would change. That their vaguely flirty dynamic would transition naturally into more flu incident level expressions of affection and then a love confession, marriage and 2-3 obnoxiously good looking babies. Not right away on those last two or anything but still.

And yet here they were, three months and 24 shows later, and they were right back in vaguely flirty territory. Only she was finding it harder and harder to flirt back now that the realization that flirting was all it might ever be started to sink in.

And maybe that was the way it was supposed to be.

After all, he was her bodyguard. She was technically his boss.

She was a strong, independent woman with a thriving music career. She didn’t need some floppy haired boy to complete her life.

Didn’t stop her from wanting him though.

She didn’t bother to go to Alex for advice since he was firmly on what he had taken to calling “Team Juke”. Reggie wasn’t much better, asking her if Luke was there every time she called and never believing her when she told him she was alone. So she did what she always did when she needed someone to tell her the harsh truth.

She called Flynn.

“Look, girl, I haven’t met him but I’ve seen him on tv hovering behind you so I get it. He’s so your type. But he’s not real. He’s a fantasy you can get invested in because you know nothing will ever come of it.”

“It could,” She grumbled into the phone.

“Are you planning on confessing that you’re madly in love with him any time soon?” Flynn countered pointedly.

“I can’t,” Julie answered quickly. “Not when it’s so obvious he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Then he’ll always be a fantasy. He’s like air.”

Julie sighed.

“Cute air.”

“You wouldn’t have called me if you weren’t tired of feeling like this,” Flynn insisted. “I’m not going to let you get your heartbroken. And right now you’re on tour with Luke. So the key is avoiding those big, beautiful, dangerous eyes.”

And as much as the idea of avoiding Luke, eyes and all, seemed ridiculous when he was literally paid to follow her around, she knew she had to give it a try.

Because Flynn was right.

If she couldn’t have him then she couldn’t let him consume her life.

She was sure she would get a great song out of the situation one day but for now she just needed to pull back a little until she could see him as just a coworker she was friendly with. She could do that. Right? Of course she could. She was Julie Molina.

Only it was easier said than done.

Because Luke did not seem to take the hint.

She came stumbling off the stage after a particularly epic encore, vision blurry from the blinding lights, every muscle weak from hours of exertion, yet feeling incredible. At least she was feeling incredible until she tripped over her own unstable feet and Luke was right there, like he always was, to catch her. His hands latched onto her forearms gently, steadying her even as he grinned directly and dangerously into her eyes.

“You ok there, Boss?”

Julie managed a nod, the pounding of her heart combined with the still echoing roar of the crowd leaving his voice sounding far away and yet annoyingly clear.

“They were loving you out there,” He told her in that specific, Luke way. “You were amazing, Jules. Insane, spectacular, rad!”

This guy and his insistence on using slang from two decades ago. She definitely didn’t find that endearing.

She had to stick to the plan.

Julie ducked her head and pushed back from his grip gently at the same time.

“Thanks.”

She glanced up just long enough to see a confused and slightly hurt look on his face before she pushed past him and headed towards the green room, Alex falling into step next to her.

“Are we going to talk about why you just kicked that helpless puppy over there?” Alex asked.

Julie punched him in the arm.

“Keep your voice down, he’s right behind us! And that helpless puppy is literally the very capable bodyguard tasked with keeping me alive, so.”

“So you admit you kicked him,” Alex responded in a completely unhelpful manner.

“Ugh, shut up,” Julie groaned, glancing back and catching Luke’s eager eyes for a split second before quickly facing forward again. “I have a plan.”

“Flynn has a plan,” Alex corrected. “A stupid plan that she never would have suggested if she had seen for herself how crazy he is about you.”

“Has he said that?” She turned her head towards her best friend sharply.

Alex tilted his head.

“Not in so many words but Julie…”

“Then we stick to the plan.” She interrupted determinedly.

Alex sighed.

“Idiots, I’m surrounded by idiots.”

A couple of weeks later, Julie was starting to think he was right.

She had been doing her best to keep her relationship with Luke strictly business and it was somehow more exhausting than the two shows a week and all the time spent trying to sleep in a tour bus cot. She pretended to be busy when he offered to work on a song. She said she was tired when he tried to get her to join him for a beer with the roadies. She pretended she didn’t see him trying to catch her eye during the thousand little moments during the day when she had grown used to making eye contact with him to laugh at something Alex had said or roll their eyes when her manager tried to talk her into something completely dumb.

It was exhausting.

And the thing was it wasn’t even working.

Because every sad, kicked puppy look (as Alex called it) he gave her only left her more distracted and in more emotional turmoil. Part of her was a little mad at him. How dare he look so hurt that she wasn’t playing their usual game when he clearly didn’t want anything more? She wasn’t just a convenient outlet for his excessive flirting energy. But mostly she was just mad at herself for thinking that this ludicrous plan could ever work.

She had thought he was trouble since the moment she met him.

And she was definitely in trouble now.

It was the night of the last show of the tour and they were back in LA to finish things off. Flynn was too sick to come (ironically she thought she had the flu) but Julie’s family were out there in the VIP section. Even Reggie had come down from San Francisco to catch the show.

Julie was feeling oddly nervous for some reason. She had grown up dreaming of playing the Orpheum. It was the smallest venue she was playing on the whole tour, her manager had tried to talk her out of it, but she had insisted it was the Orpheum or nothing. Reggie and Alex had taken her to so many shows there when she was a teenager, it’s where she had discovered rock. Somehow even after everything she knew it wouldn’t fully feel like she’d achieved her dreams until she played there. It was time. Only she had finally made it there and she felt like she was going to throw up.

She wanted desperately to seek Luke out so he could tell some dumb joke to distract her or give her one of his borderline too intense pep talks. But she wasn’t doing that anymore. In fact she had insisted he go take his break now before the show, promising not to leave her green room just to keep herself from giving in to the urge.

“You doing alright there, Jules? You look kind of green.”

Julie spun on her heels and barreled directly into her big brother’s arms.

“Oof!” He huffed as she knocked the air from his lungs, his arms still coming up to wrap around her despite his shock. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” She told him, her voice muffled as she buried her face against his chest. “It’s just that it’s the Orpheum and you know what that means to me, and the whole family is here to see me play and I’m so nervous and I’m missing Mom and I’m totally in love with my dumb bodyguard.”

Reggie pushed her back by the shoulders until he could see her blotchy face.

He reached up to ruffle her hair affectionately.

“First of all, Flynn and I totally called it,” He said with a smirk. “And Alex swears the two of you have taken ten years off of his life with your stupidity.”

“Alex talks too much,” Julie grumbled. “And Flynn is the one who told me to stay away from his annoyingly pretty eyes to begin with.”

“That’s only because she wants you to be happy. So do I by the way. And this?” He waved his hand to indicate her current state. “I hate to break it to you, Jules, but this isn’t happy.”

Julie sighed as her shoulders sagged and all of the fight went out of her at once.

“I know,” She said defeatedly. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t force my feelings on the guy especially when I’m his boss. That’s creepy on top of being pathetic.”

“Funny,” Alex broke in from the doorway. “That’s exactly what he just said to me.”

Julie just gaped at him for a few long seconds while Reggie and Alex exchanged amused yet exasperated looks.

“Wait...what did he say exactly?” Julie finally managed to get out.

Alex rolled his eyes.

“Oh you know, ‘What did I do? Why is Julie mad at me? I’m so in love with her do you think she figured it out? Did I come off as a creep? Do you think she’ll have my babies?’”

Julie felt her mouth drop open.

“Dude!” Reggie protested.

“Ok, so the last part was more implied than said directly,” Alex admitted.

“But he said he loves me?” Julie asked hurriedly.

“Yeah,” Alex confirmed. “I’ve been telling you he does for months by the way, but nobody listens to me.”

Julie ignored her best friend’s statement and sprinted for the door.

“Where are you going?” Reggie called after her.

“You go on in ten!” Alex added frantically.

“I’ll make it!” She shouted back without slowing down.

She ran down the hallway, dodging makeup artists and promoters and so many people she’d wanted to impress just a few minutes before. There was only one person she wanted to see at that moment.

Julie kept going until she found the exit that led to the alley outside and burst through it. Luke felt caged in if he was inside for too long, something about living in a garage for a year as a teen. He stuck by her side and did his job perfectly but any chance he got she knew he could be found breathing in the fresh air and feeling like his lungs could fully expand. Sure enough, there he was, leaning against the probably filthy wall humming some song that she knew would be amazing if he ever really gave it life.

He stood straight and took two steps towards her as soon as she emerged from the door, a look of concern immediately taking over his features.

“Julie? What are you doing out here? You’re about to go on…”

She closed the distance between them and stopped just a half step closer than she normally would, her sudden proximity shutting him up for a moment.

She just looked up at him for a few seconds, just to enjoy it after weeks of denying herself. He broke the eye contact first, chuckling awkwardly as he looked down briefly.

“What?”

“Can you do me a favor?” She asked seriously.

He answered instantly.

“Anything, Julie, you know that.”

“Tell me what you just told Alex.”

His face drained of color, almost ghost like in appearance.

“He promised he wouldn’t say anything,” He mumbled.

Julie shrugged.

“He probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t walked in on me telling my brother pretty much the same thing.”

Luke’s eyes widened comically as he took in her words.

“You told your brother that I did something to make you hate me and that I don't know what it is and it’s eating me up inside?” He asked in confusion.

“I told him I love you,” She said bluntly, all the bravery she had inherited from her mom giving her the nerve. “And that I’ve been trying to distance myself from you because I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“That’s...that’s...Jules, that’s crazy!” He exclaimed, bouncing a little to emphasize his words. “I’m head over heels, crazy in love with you. Always have been.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked softly, managing to step even closer to him.

His eyes softened as he reached down to tuck one of her curls behind her ear.

“Because you’re my boss, and you’re totally out of my league. You’re this super talented, total force of nature. I mean you’re Julie Molina and I’m…”

“A big fan?” Julie interrupted, raising one eyebrow teasingly.

Luke froze.

“How did you…”

“I’ve been in your apartment, remember? When you had the flu I snooped a little. Sorry. The fact that you have my first album on vinyl is one thing but to have a cd of my first EP is really impressive. I didn’t know hard copies of that still existed…”

Like groaned.

“Ok, ok. You got me. I didn’t want you to think I was a pathetic fanboy, alright?”

Julie grinned.

“Isn’t that what you are?”

Luke smiled softly down at her, brushing the back of two fingers over her cheek.”

“Only for you, Boss.”

Julie instinctively stretched onto her toes, raising her face towards his, her eyes starting to flutter shut…

BANG

They sprang apart and spun to face Alex who had just emerged breathing heavily into the doorway behind them.

“You know no one is more Team Juke than I am but Julie you are going on in 2 minutes!”

“Oh crap,” Julie said. “I’m coming.”

Alex shot her a skeptical look.

Julie glared at him until he sighed and disappeared back inside.

“Team Juke?” Luke asked.

Julie giggled, already backing towards the door.

“Don’t ask. I’ve got to go but later we should talk about your future with the company.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re firing me?”

Julie grinned.

“Well, I think we both might find your current duties a little too distracting. I think I need a stoic, middle aged man built like a linebacker. But we’ve been looking to hire a new songwriter to help me with the next album if you know anyone who might be interested.”

Luke grinned back.

“I might.”

He bit his lip and stared after her with those big, beautiful, dangerous eyes.

He was such trouble.

Julie ran back to him wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to a plant a quick kiss on his lips, pulling back before he could fully register what she was doing.

“Hold that thought,” She whispered with a smile before turning and running back through the door and towards the second dream come true of the night.

She was Julie Molina. She was about to play the Orpheum. She was in love with her bodyguard.

She was in trouble and she couldn’t be happier about it.

#trope prompt game #my fics #juke #jatp #fanfiction #writing

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izaswritings · 5 years ago

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Title: cinema blues

Fandom: RWBY

Synopsis: The night of the election, Oscar, Weiss, and Jaune go to the movies. ...Try to go to the movies, anyway.

(Or: in which Oscar is homesick, Weiss worries about election things, and Jaune frets about everything else. Problems aren't so easily avoided.)

AO3 Link is here.

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to, Weiss.”

It is already evening in the city of Atlas, the sun setting far off behind the distant skyscrapers, all the buildings cast in dark silhouetted shadow. The theater is a hub of light and sound in contrast to the slowly dimming streets— a glowing sign flashes high above, the glass doors shining golden from the sheer wealth of light and noise and fanfare inside. Still, it’s far less crowded than Oscar had expected. In the eve of election day, the great cinema house has been left practically abandoned in favor of political celebrations and late-night distractions.

Of course, that doesn’t mean the theater is empty. The shortened lines wrap around the building, the air heavy with the smell of hot food, the distant conversations like a constant murmur in his ears. The three of them—Weiss, Jaune, and Oscar—are standing under a bright flashing sign, looking at a list of movie names that mean absolutely nothing, watching the lines move in.

“I know,” Weiss says, to Jaune. “Which is why I came, because I did want to.” Her arms are crossed, her eyes fixed on the movie board; she’s frowning, slightly, her foot tapping as she reads. Beside her, Jaune looks torn between fond and overwhelmed, and Oscar, a bit ahead of them both, watches the ticket-goers enter the theater, occasionally glancing back at them from the corner of his eye. “If you didn’t want me here, Jaune, you shouldn’t have invited me.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that!” Jaune waves his hands, rapid, laughing almost awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry, that’s not what I meant. You just, uh…” He trails off and cringes. “Look… very… upset?”

Oscar bites his lip at that. He’s noticed that too— Weiss had been almost cheerful on the walk over, news of the on-going election aside, but once they’d arrived her mood had taken a rather sharp nosedive.

Even now, something furrows at her brow; Weiss glares at the movie board and then squeezes her eyes shut. Oscar regards her with worry. “I’m just—” she says, and then sighs. She brings a hand to her temple, her braid swinging when she shakes her head. “I… don’t have a single clue on what any of these are about.”

Oscar follows her gaze to the movie board, the screens full of new titles and unfamiliar listings. Jaune looks too—and winces. “…Oh.”

“It makes sense,” Oscar offers, drifting back towards their side. He keeps his eyes on the lines, the bright lights of the screen making him dizzy. “I mean, um, we haven’t exactly been… I mean, we haven’t really had time recently, have we?”

Weiss frowns, still looking annoyed; Jaune is quiet for a moment, considering. “You know,” he starts, thoughtful, “I never really thought about it, but you’re right. We’ve been kind of… really busy this past year, huh. Two years.” He pauses. “Ugh.”

The three of them stand in contemplative silence. Weiss breaks first, sighing heavily, and turns around to walk over and sit down on a nearby bench, her annoyance replaced with exhaustion. Behind them, the election, still on-going, flashes the current poll numbers—60 to Robyn, 40 to Jacques. Weiss looks at the screen for a long moment, and doesn’t seem the slightest bit comforted.

“I didn’t even pay attention,” she admits, at last, eyes still on the election counter. “Even when I was home…”

“Always felt like there were more important things to do,” Jaune agrees, voice a little soft. He and Oscar share a brief look. Jaune nods first, silent agreement, and settles down next to Weiss. He watches the election news too, for a moment—lips tight and brow furrowed, eyes dropping down as if he could peer through the city floors and see straight down to Mantle. Oscar drifts beside them, unsure of what to say, hating the looks on their faces. He bites his lip and shuffles on his feet, and goes back to watching the theater.

The silence stretches—and then Jaune huffs and crosses his arms. “Yeah, okay. I have no idea what any of these movies are about either.” He rubs his chin. “Okay. Deciding factor. Oscar?”

“Hm?” Oscar is still watching the lines.

“What movie do you wanna see?”

Oscar shrugs. “What movies do people usually see at a theater?”

“What do you mean, what…” Jaune squints at him. “Oscar.”

“Yeah?”

“What movies have you seen at the theater?”

“Oh,” Oscar says, easily. He tucks his hands under his legs to keep warm and sits down on the bench railing, kicking his feet above the pristine street. Atlas really is far too shiny. It makes something in him ache for the dirt roads and overgrown wildlife of his home. “I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never… what?”

“Been,” Oscar says.

“To the theater?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never seen a movie?”

“No, I’ve seen movies. Just not—”

“At the theater.”

Oscar almost laughs at him. “Yep.”

There’s a long pause. Both Weiss and Jaune are staring. Oscar looks back at them, something like bemused. “I was a farmhand,” he reminds them, honestly befuddled. “Middle of no-where, Mistral? And my Aunt and I, she had some helpers in the busy months but it was really just us, y’know?” Something in him aches at the memory—he hopes she’s doing okay—but Oscar pushes it back as he’s always done, and tilts his head. “The only theater around was two hours away, and it just wasn't worth the Lein, honestly. So, um. Yeah, I have no idea. I only saw movies released for scrolls… and my Aunt liked old-style cinema, anyway.”

“Meaning?”

“Lots of black-and-white Vacuo Westerns.”

Weiss puts her head in her hands. Jaune sighs. “Maybe this was a bad idea…”

Oscar winces. “It was a good idea!” he protests, kicking his feet. Gah, it’s cold. “Um, maybe we can just pick a random one?”

“I guess…” Jaune trails off, scratching at his head and leaning back against the bench. “I dunno. Weiss?”

“I mostly just came to get out of the Academy.”

“Yeah…”

They sit there, the three of them together, watching people mill about. The election booms on behind them, the numbers ticking down and up, constant change. Weiss looks at her hands; Jaune watches the poll numbers, lips pressed.

Oscar’s eyes linger on the theater, on the faces of the movie-goers. The fancy clothes, the unguarded smiles, soft laughter. It’s fancy in a way that makes his palms itch; he feels out of place here, too small and too—he’s not sure what. Rural? The streets are so clean he feels bad for walking there.

The more he sees of it, the less he likes Atlas. Haven had been big, but at least Oscar had felt like he fit there, just one of a thousand others. Even Mantle has felt—not welcoming, maybe, but solid. There is something about Atlas—maybe the troops, or the silver shine, or just the wealth of it all—that makes him feel the exact opposite. Like the city itself is rejecting him. Oscar can’t imagine living here. It feels more like a prop than a city; a shiny toy instead of a community.

He misses the farm suddenly and surely, a solid ache in his chest. He misses his Aunt. He misses—Mistral, maybe. Home. He’d never wanted to be a farmhand forever, but at least there he’d always known he’d belonged. Oscar has his team, now, has RWBY and Qrow and Maria and the others—but he knows the others feel it too. Atlas and the Academy are beautiful… but it is only barely a home.

He thinks it must cut Weiss deepest of all.

And it is Weiss, then, who decides for them. She tilts her head to Atlas’s clear sky, turned pitch dark and starless from the light pollution, and says, almost a sigh: “Let’s just… not.”

The idea of sitting still in a fancy theater, watching a movie he doesn’t care about and doesn’t know, surrounded by strangers… yeah, no. Oscar shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

Jaune groans. “Movie night’s a bust, then. Man, and I’ll bet everyone else is having a great time, too.”

“We can never tell them about this.”

“Agreed.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, and hops to his feet. “I’m gonna buy popcorn,” he decides.

“For what?”

“I dunno. People-watching? I’ve never tried theater popcorn, I just want to know.”

“You’ve never had— !? No, no, no, right, I remember now, stop giving me that look— I’m sorry!”

Weiss rolls her eyes and pushes up off the wall. “Come on,” she says to Oscar. “I’ll pay. It’s all going to be stupidly expensive, anyway…”

They’re standing in line and buying food when the channel changes back to the election, the final ten minutes ticking off. Oscar glances at the polls—closer than he thought they would be, honestly—and bites his lip when he glances over at Weiss. Her stare at the monitors is grim.

“…You okay?”

She glances down at him. “I’m fine.” But her eyes draw back to the monitors. Jaune places a hand at her back. She gives him a look. He smiles at her, sympathetic. Weiss closes her eyes and sighs— and leans, just a little, into the touch. “Just… 47%. They must know he’s never going to do any good, don’t they?”

“Polls will close in a few minutes,” Jaune says, and squeezes her shoulder, a one-armed hug. “It’ll be fine.”

“Mm…”

But Weiss does not seem convinced.

They walk back outside, sitting on their bench, and Weiss watches the outside screens the whole time, as if reluctant to look away. Oscar munches on popcorn—dry, salty, and not nearly as good as Jaune told him it was, bleh, who would do that to perfectly good corn?—and puts it to the side, pushing it away slowly with the tip of his finger.

Jaune is still watching Weiss. “Do you wanna head back?”

Weiss shakes her head. “In a bit. Polls close in three minutes, right?” She draws her arms close. “I just…” Together, they watch the numbers tick up. 48%. “I need to be sure.”

Jaune is watching too, now. “You don’t think he’ll really…?”

Oscar watches the numbers tick. 49%. A knot of anxiety has formed in his chest, and he has to force himself to swallow. “Um… what happens if…?”

He can’t finish the question, and none of them can voice an answer. The dread grows. The numbers tick. Weiss closes her eyes, and her breath shudders. “How many more…?”

“…Thirty seconds.”

Her eyes are closed. Her lips twist. The polls shut. The results are read out. Someone in Atlas’s streets stands and cheers. High and hollow laughter in the air.

Oscar stares at the screen for a very long moment.

At long last, Weiss shakes her head, wordless. She lifts her head with a clenched jaw—eyes bright, her teeth grit, pain in her face and fury in the curl of her hands. Beside her, Jaune looks hollowed, eyes on his feet once again, as if to peer through the Atlas streets to Mantle sitting far below. His whole face twists, anger rising— and then it fades, driven back, resigned. He reaches slowly to his side, and grips the hilt of his sword. “…We should head for Mantle,” he says, subdued.

The Grimm. There is no doubt. Oscar stands too, his heart heavy. For a moment, oddly, he feels strangely distant—not as alone in his head as usual. A grief for Mantle that is more than just his—despair turned two-fold. He reaches out, almost terrified to know.

Oz?

The feeling fades. There is only him. Oscar closes his eyes, lips twisting on a grimace, and unhooks the Long Memory from his back. It’s nothing, probably. Always nothing. He’d just hoped…

But there’s no time for disappointment, or bitterness, or whatever this feeling is. Already he can hear the sirens.

“Somehow I knew it would end up like this,” Weiss says, soft, and lifts her sword. Her expression goes cold, lips thin with determination. The theater, behind them, lies forgotten, flashing lights and laughter like something from a different world— or maybe a dream. “Well. It was nice while it lasted.”

“To Mantle, then,” Jaune says.

“To Mantle,” Oscar echoes, and together they head for the ships.

#rwby #rwby7 spoilers #oscar pine #weiss schnee #jaune arc #ozpin #rwby fic #iza fanfic #please reblog if u liked!!!!#💖💖💖

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minijenn · 5 years ago

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Universe Falls, Chapter 77, Part 2

Bljahsdjasdhkads over a fucking month since the last chapter was posted and here I come with a fuckin mediocre chapter like this. Nice. Anyway here ya go. Enjoy. (please don’t read this on here formatting sucks read it on ff.net or ao3 instead to get the better experience!)

https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/611433424860921856/universe-falls-chapter-77-part-1

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Chapter 77: Adventures in the Multiverse

Part 2: Adrift in the Cosmos

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So I embarked on a 30-year adventure--a perilous journey through the multiverse to learn what I could about Bill in the hopes of defeating him. In the process, I had many experiences that my younger self might have described as “swashbuckling” if not for the constant nausea that accompanies dimension-hopping!

Within the span of the first year of my travels alone I quickly lost count of the sheer number of different dimensions I found myself falling into. Sometimes my stay in these dimensions would be brief, long enough for me to restock on whatever basic supplies (food, weaponry, wormhole stabilizers) I needed before passing through as quickly as I arrived. Other times I would decide (or more often than not, be forced) to stay in a single dimension for weeks, even months on end, well acquainting myself with the rules and residents (be they friends or foes) of said dimension by the time I left each one.

Still, I pride myself on how quickly I fell into the routine of steadily-paced interdimensional travel. The oddities of the multiverse, of which there are plenty, perplexed me on just about every level at first. But as I saw more and more of those oddities, many of which defied comprehension when compared to anything I was familiar with back on Earth, the less terrified, and the more fascinated I became.

It feels as though I lived 100 different lives across all of the countless dimensions I’d been to. I traveled with bandits, learned to speak 13 languages, got in a fistight with a talking chair, and got tattoos with a tribe of octopus-armed warrior piglets. (These tattoos rank among my most serious regrets. Let’s just say I wear my usual turtleneck for a reason!) I studied ancient texts, compared notes with scholars, dined with monsters, and was briefly made king of the Finger Dimension, until a 7-fingered man showed up and I lost my status. And this was all within the first 5 years of my travels alone!

When it comes to those other 25 years, I can truthfully attest that they were just as eventful. There’s certainly never a dull moment in the multiverse! I often found my youthful curious spark returning to me whenever I ventured across a new locale, and on many occasions, yearned to have any of my familiar journals on hand to document everything that I saw (which is why I suppose it’s rather cathartic to be finally writing my journey out after all this time, I suppose). It’s certainly true that not every dimension I came across was a safe harbor; many, in fact were practically unlivable for longer than a few hours at a time. At the same time, others were rife with barbaric, hostile beings and creatures who attacked first and asked questions never. And sandwiched between those worlds were dimensions that were borderline bizarre in every sense of the word. While I did often yearn for the (relative) normalcy of my home back in Gravity Falls and the reliable company of Rose and the Gems in particular in those first few years, that yearning paled in comparison to the incredible discoveries and sights I got to experience, far beyond anything any other human has seen for sure.

Still, it wasn’t always an exciting, explorative adventure. Survival was one of my highest priorities, lest I fall short of my main goal of stopping Bill before I could even come close. Thanks to my quick wit (and dimensional translator), I was able to talk my way into and out of food and shelter--although a number of dimensions consider me an outlaw to this day. Ironically, in the multiverse, I’m just as wanted as Stanley! But my crimes had a noble purpose: I only stole supplies to work on my Quantum Destabilizer, which proved to be one of the most difficult inventions I ever worked on.

The Destabilizer was the product of many a sleepless nights during those first few years adrift. I knew from the start that if I was going to face off against Bill, I would need to go up against him far more prepared than I had been during my first unintentional outing in the Nightmare Realm. That preparation would come in the form of a weapon, one that would be armed with all of the knowledge I would go on to obtain about Bill through my travels in the hopes that it would be just strong enough to obliterate him once and for all. Certainly, I reasoned, something out there within the vast, endless cosmos had to possess that power; it was merely a matter of finding it first.

So my search for parts and for information alike went into full swing as I hopped between the untold sprawl of distant worlds. To fully chronicle my adventures would take 10 volumes (at least!), but here’s a catalog of some of the most outlandish dimensions I saw…

The M Dimension

Ugh! Writing about this place after all these years has brought back to life the extreme frustration I felt while I was trapped there! The whole reality offended my ordered and scientific mind. I mean, how does it even make sense for a vacuum to be shaped like an M??

If you think that’s dumb, try looking at their alphabet: it’s just the letter “M” 26 times! Why does a universe like this even exist! Why did I have to spend time there? Why did they keep telling me to “mave a monderful mime!”?

Even though I was feeling “muicidal” after just ten minutes there, at least they were relatively kind to me, considering how strange I must have looked to them. Not like the people in the Symbol Dimension. Those guys are @$$&@!!s!

The Do-Over Dimension

Also known as the Yo-Yo Dimension and the Go Insane Because Nothing Gets Done Dimension (the last name being the most accurate but the least poetic). This is a world where time moves both forward and backward in a seemingly random manner. So you may have a really crummy week but then get a chance to do it all over again. Or just as you complete high school, you may live backward all the way to kindergarten.

The Do-Over dimension can move forward normally for really long spans of time or “yo-yo” back and forth several times in one day. Professional “timelineologists” are like weathermen who try to accurately predict “what the time will be like” on any given day. As the old saying goes, “one step forward, infinite steps back, then two and a half steps forward, for no discernable reason”.

Lottocron Nine (The Gambling Dimension)

It’s like the mob took over this entire galaxy. Except there is no mob, because gambling is not only legal here, it's mandatory.

Every aspect of life is left up to chance in this dimension. Cynn City, the central governing authority of the Gambling Dimension, lands on whatever planet wins the yearly lottery to host it. Babies learn to roll dice before they can learn to walk, and no one over the age of five goes anywhere without their lucky deck of cards. Even choosing your soul mate is left up to Lady Luck. Luckily, the government is effective. The Galactic Senate meets at the track every Saturday to debate (bet) on their favorite laws.

Stan would have loved this place, but it just made me depressed. Although I had a good run in the Gambling Dimension, the dimensional bouncers ended up kicking me out for counting cards! What are the odds?

The Locked Door Dimension

What’s behind door number one? Who knows? Because you can’t open it. Because you don’t have the right key.

As yet another one of the more aggravating dimensions I had the misfortune of coming across, the Locked Door Dimension is really nothing more than a winding, endless hallway with doors lining both sides. Each and every one of those doors is locked, but fear not! The moment you arrive there, a key just so happens to land right at your feet. The only problem is that key only unlocks one door out of the thousands, maybe millions this dimension is made up of!

So with no other options, you go from door to door, trying your key out on each one of them and it works on seemingly none of them. But what happens when you finally reach the door that your key does unlock? I… honestly have no idea. My time in the Locked Door Dimension was mercifully cut short as I happened upon a wormhole just short of me losing my sanity. Part of me would have liked to have kept my key as a souvenir, but I admittedly tossed that thing out the moment I left. Still, I can’t help but wonder what would have been behind my door if I hadn’t…

The Delicious Dimension

This place is something Hansel and Gretal could only dream of. Every non-living material object here is completely edible! Now, this isn’t in the sense that everything is made of food (in fact, “food” in the traditional sense doesn’t even exist here, largely since it doesn’t need to). A clock still looks like an average clock and a candle is still very much a candle. It’s just that you can eat both the clock and the candle without needing to be rushed to the hospital right after.

Have you ever wondered what a table tastes like? What about a car? Look no further than this dimension for the answers! I have to say I was caught off guard the first time I spotted someone here down a notepad whole. But then I got to try a few of this dimension’s delicacies for myself and I was pleasantly surprised. Who knew a pillow of all things could taste so good?

...Actually, now that I’m writing this out, I realize just how… uncomfortably odd this dimension was in retrospect. Moving on!

As the years drew on, my quest to defeat Bill eventually led me to a strange world that I mistakenly believed to be his birthplace…

The Two-Dimension Dimension (Exwhylia)

A dimension that was by far different than any I had encountered this far by the mere composition of it alone. It is, as its name implies, completely two dimensional in every single way. In fact, my three dimensional body intersected perpendicular to the plane this dimension exists on, to the point that I was literally on eye-level with its rather simplistic residents. With that in mind, you might think me to be a god in their world--but not so much.

From my ill-suited point of view, I couldn’t make out much of the world of Exwhylia. My 3-D eyes were worthless in their 2-D world! There is no sky above them and no sun to bathe them in directional light and create shadows. “Above” and “below” are directions that they know nothing about and do not exist to them whatsoever. Still, I was able to glean exactly how their strangely hierarchical society worked. Circles are at the peak of their class system, considered to be the upper crust of Exwhylian society. Far below them are the lowly triangles, sub-class citizens with hardly any rights or dignity to speak of under their rounded overlords. These shapes moved about on their flat plane littered with squarish buildings and countless other indiscernible objects I couldn’t quite make out as identical as everything in their world looked like to me.

I believed Bill came from a similar world that was mysteriously destroyed. But how? I didn’t have much time to investigate. The Exwhylians considered me to be an “Irregular” shape, which is vulgar in their society.

I was unable to explain myself, since my mouth was stuck outside of their world, and I soon found myself under attack. Though small, the Exwhylians’ bodies are razor-sharp, and several hundred of them began slicing into my head in an assault I was powerless to put an end to.

Luckily, I was saved just in time by one of the most extraordinary creatures I’ve ever encountered…

Ford wasn’t sure exactly at what point he’d blacked out; likely around the time the Exwhylians had slammed their tiny two-dimensional bodies straight into his eyes for the hundredth time over. Yet as he managed to open his eyes, he found that they didn’t sting anywhere near as much as he thought they would, allowing him a starting glimpse of exactly where he was now.

Fortunately, he seemed to be back in a fully three dimensional plain, with no aggressive Exwhylians in sight. What was in sight was a far more serene setting than the last dimension he’d found himself in. He was lying quite comfortably on a heavily cushioned bed, positioned in a well-decorated open-air room. It’s outer walls were non-existent, instead bordered by sturdy marble pillars, between which a grand view of what lay beyond them: a beautiful panorama of the sprawling natural landscape that lay down below the high mountain peak the unknown building rested on. The craggy hilltops and lush green valleys admittedly reminded Ford of Earth, and he would have even believed himself to be back in his own dimension if not for the skies that were painted in a kaleidoscope of colors that an Earthly atmosphere would have typically never known.

Even so, the author slowly, carefully sat up, perplexed by how he’d gotten to such a strange setting in the first place. Still, he could hardly complain considering how starkly calm and peaceful this dimension was compared to Exwhylia. And yet, his guard immediately raised as he noticed the curtain covering the doorway on the far side of the room begin to sweep aside as a mysterious silhouette appeared just behind it. Far too familiar with the feeling of being cornered or trapped by now, Ford’s fight or flight instinct quickly kicked in as he searched himself for any of his weapons, only to find that they, along with the rest of his supplies, had been set aside on the opposite end of the room entirely. He nearly jumped up to retrieve them, despite how his bones and muscles alike ached from lack of recent use. That is, until he got a clear view of exactly who was emerging from behind the curtain.

“Ah, so you’ve finally awakened…” The smooth, yet deep feminine voice addressed him as its owner properly stepped into the room. She was a tall, yet elegant figure, her otherwise humanoid appearance made a bit more alien by the pale blue pigmentation of her skin, which matched her much darker blue thick, hooded gown quite well. But what was most fascinating about her by far were her eyes, largely since there were seven of them in total, each of them a different vibrant color as they all stared at the author almost piercingly.

“W-who are you?” Ford asked, somewhat unnerved by her practically captivating gaze.

“Fear not, Stanford Pines,” she said, raising a hand to calm him. “I mean you no harm.”

“How… how do you know who I am?” Ford asked, eyeing her warily as he stole another brief glance at his weapons. “Where are we?”

She smiled at this, her manner still completely level compared to the author’s obvious uncertainty. “Forgive me for answering your inquiries somewhat out of order,” she said. “To start, as an oracle, it is my gift and my responsibility to know of the past, the present, and the future. My name is Jheselbraum the Unswerving and we are in the world I call home, Dimension 52.”

“...An oracle?” Ford eased up a bit, though he still raised an eyebrow at this.

“Oh, that’s right,” Jheselbraum said as she strolled to the other end of the room. “Natives of your dimension don’t tend to take much stock in the foresight of oracles and seers anymore, do they?”

Ford couldn’t help but crack the slightest of smiles at this in spite of himself. “I don’t know if that’s entirely true. After all, an old friend of mine dabbles in glimpsing into the future herself.”

“Ah yes, one of the Crystal Gems,” Jheselbraum nodded knowingly. “The one you speak of is called Garnet, though there’s also Amethyst, Pearl, and of course… the Gem you know as… Rose Quartz, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Wait…” Ford frowned, caught off guard by such an accurate listing. “You almost make it sound as though you’ve met them…”

“After looking through your past, Stanford, I feel as though I might as well have,” Jheselbraum remarked, turning back to face him.

“I’d… argue that could be considered a breach of privacy…” the author said dubiously.

Surprisingly, Jheselbraum simply laughed at this, her light chuckle just as mysteriously graceful as everything else about her. “Then I apologize for the intrusion. I’ll make sure to ask you the next time I decide to pilfer through your personal timeline. How does that sound?”

“Better…?” Ford replied, still unsure of what to make of the seemingly amicable oracle. “In the meantime, do you mind telling me exactly how I wound up here in… what was it again? Dimension 51?”

“52,” Jheselbraum corrected. “And I suppose you could say I’ve been expecting your arrival here for quite some time. Of course, I did take the liberty of pulling you out of peril; those Exwhylians didn’t exactly show you the greatest hospitality, did they?”

“I’ll say…” Ford huffed as he placed a gentle hand against one of the many bandaged cuts on his cheek.

“So I brought you here, and got to work tending to your various wounds both old and new,” the oracle continued her explanation. “In case you’re wondering, you’ve been unconscious for roughly a week.”

“A week?!” Ford balked, baffled.

“Hm. Considering your unsteady relationship with sleep in the past, I would have thought that such a lengthy rest would be more than welcome,” Jheselbraum mused. “Even so, there’s no need to thank me for my services. After all, I must admit that I do have a rather… selfish reason for bringing you here, Stanford.”

“Oh? And what might that ‘reason’ be?” Ford asked, eyeing the oracle suspiciously once more.

Jheselbraum’s rather light manner turned serious, almost grave at this as she took a step closer to the author. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but word of you and your story has spread far and wide across the multiverse, Stanford Pines. Many in worlds you’ve never even been to before have heard tell of your great ambition, to bring an end to the demon known as Bill Cipher. And I must tell you, that bold and noble cause, you and I are very much alike.”

Ford was completely caught off guard by this revelation, to the point that all he could do for several minutes was stare at the oracle in awe. He knew that he was a wanted man, he had been for several years now, particularly in dimensions where it was clear that Bill had some sort of influence. Likewise, in his travels, he had encountered many creatures and people who cowered in fear at the mere mention of the dream demon, his trickery and treachery extending far and wide to ruin countless lives across the multiverse. And yet, never before had he met someone who seemed intent on actually taking Bill down other than himself… until now.

“You… want to defeat Bill too?” Ford asked quietly, incredulously.

“I don’t necessarily want to defeat him myself for that’s not the hand that fate is destined to deal me,” Jheselbraum countered calmly. “But I do wish to see him defeated. For untold eons, Cipher has cast a pall of terror across the innocent denizens of the multiverse. I cannot even begin to tell you just how many minds he has broken, how many worlds he’s left in an upheaval of chaos. I have stood on the fringes, spending centuries watching his wickedness spread further and further across the cosmos and yet no one has ever possessed the courage or the might to face his destructive power head-on. No one… until you, I suppose.”

“Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know if I’d necessarily call my mission entirely ‘noble’,” Ford noted earnestly. “Bill tricked me; he took advantage of my foolish eagerness to succeed to get what he wanted and in the process, his deception cost me more than I could have ever imagined. This isn’t just about defeating him; it’s about forcing him to experience every bit of shame and humiliation he put me through. It’s about getting even.”

Jheselbraum’s expression was unreadable upon hearing this, though all seven of her multi-colored eyes were steadily set on Ford all the while. “Many good men have been driven to madness in the stubborn pursuit of revenge,” she cautioned simply, though decided to make no further comment as she went off on a different tangent entirely. “Even so, as you are now, you would unfortunately be… ill-equipped to face Cipher again and survive. Especially given how narrow your last escape from him proved to be.”

“Well, I can assure you my next attempt will have Bill trying to escape instead of me,” Ford finally stood, albeit somewhat unsteadily as he crossed the room to show the oracle his half-built Quantum Destabilizer. “As long as I have this on hand, then he won’t stand a chance. O-once it’s completed, of course.”

“But a weapon alone can only do so much,” Jheselbraum pointed out as she walked over to him, making Ford note just how much she towered over him. Much like Rose used to, really. “You already know well by now that Cipher strikes the fiercest at the part of a person that’s the most difficult to protect: the mind. Deceptive and cunning as he is, he’s a renowned master of the mindscape, and the damage he can inflict there is far worse than anything he or his minions can do to you physically. Which is why, above all else, if you truly wish to face him again, then you must fortify your mind at all costs.”

“Fortify my mind…” Ford repeated, open to just about any idea that could help him best Bill once and for all. “I don’t suppose you know of any special spells or ancient incantations, or heck, even just a few mental exercises that could do that in a relatively short amount of time… do you?”

“To tell the truth, magic would be of little use here,” the oracle replied. “And when I said you need to fortify your mind, I meant that in the literal sense. A metallic plate, titanium to be exact, inserted directly over the parietal lobe, would more than suffice to protect the inner workings of your mind from Cipher’s immaterial form. I’d be more than willing to perform the operation, but I must warn you that it is notoriously difficult and incredibly high-risk. If even the slightest complication arose, the chances of your survival would be-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ford interjected by holding a hand up. “Let me get all of this straight. You want me to trust you, someone I’ve literally just met who claims she can see my entire life history, to insert a piece of metal into my skull in a surgery that could very well end up killing me… just on the off chance that it might be able to stop Bill from getting inside my head?”

“Not might, will,” Jheselbraum corrected, all seven of her eyes bearing down into Ford’s. “If this procedure is a success, then I can guarantee you, Stanford Pines, that the only place within the mindscape that Bill Cipher will be able to reach you from will be within your dreams. But any other mental attack he tries to land against you within the waking world will miss its mark absolutely. And even more than that… Cipher will never be able to possess your mind or body as his own ever again…”

Ford’s eyes widened with stunned surprise upon hearing this promise, a promise so hopeful and reassuring that it almost sounded too good to be true. In the torturous weeks efore he’d been tossed into the portal, he had lived in nearly endless fear, wondering when, not if, Bill would launch a vicious assault upon his mind and body by taking them for agonizing joy rides whenever he least expected it. Even after he’d ventured out into the multiverse, after he’d cleared the horrors of the Nightmare Realm, that nagging fear of the dream demon besetting him in the most twisted of ways always persisted in the back of his mind. But now, here was a chance, albeit a risky one, to put that fear to rest once and for all. To beat Cipher at his own game before the game even had a chance to begin. To finally, finally be strong enough to stand up to the demon who had taken so much from him, even if he could never really hope to take any of it back.

“Yes,” he said without even thinking twice. Perhaps it was that hopeful promise, or the thin mountain air or something else entirely, but Ford was confident that this choice was the right one. As long as the procedure actually ended up working, of course. “Yes, let’s do it. Right away, as soon as possible.”

“Are you absolutely certain?” Jheselbraum asked, admittedly surprised by his easy acceptance.

“Positive,” Ford nodded, resolved to do whatever it took to bring a long-awaited end to his sinister foe. “In fact, I’ve never been more certain of anything else in my entire life.”

A soft smile finally returned to the oracle’s face at this, one that reminded the author that her determination to see Bill stopped was every bit as strong as his was. And through all of the struggles he’d been through across the multiverse, he’d finally managed to gain an ally who could actually help him do just that. “Very well. Then let’s get started.”

Though Ford had only just regained consciousness after a week of being completely out of it, he didn’t protest to Jheselbraum putting him under again that very same day for the sake of carrying out the operation. Despite the oracle’s claims that the surgery would be an arduous process, Ford was completely out of it for the duration, and mercifully so considering just how long it actually took to finish. Still, once it was finally completed, Jheselbraum let the author rest and recover for as long as he needed to, carefully bandaging up the incision wounds and monitoring his vitals while he slept for well over a day’s time.

When Ford did finally awaken, he was still rather bleary and unfocused, a natural side effect of an intensive skeletal surgery according to Jheselbraum, though her plethora of unique natural remedies certainly helped ease the migraines that also came along with it. By the time the author was completely coherent again, the oracle estimated that he’d still need about a week of bed rest to fully recover, which was something Ford didn’t protest too much. After all, he’d waited this long to put an end to Bill already; he could afford to wait just a little longer.

Said wait was made all the more bearable by Jheselbraum herself. The oracle was steadfast yet mysterious, though she also had a bit of a coy, playful side to her personality that shined through her calm and collected exterior every now and again. Because of their shared goal and ambition, it didn’t take long for Ford’s fledgling trust toward the oracle to become a genuine liking, one that was clearly mutual as an earnest friendship began to blossom between the pair. In many ways, Jheselbraum fondly reminded Ford of each of the Crystal Gems as she shared Garnet’s ability in foresight, Pearl’s respectable intellect, even Amethyst’s penchant for mischief, albeit in a much more lowkey way. But above all else, her hospitality, reliability, and endless desire for justice and peace always made Ford think of Rose, almost achingly so as he realized just how much he missed his once-close friend. And while the chances of him ever seeing that friend again were low, at the very least he had managed to make a brand-new one in Jheselbraum.

The pair discussed various things during the author’s recovery period, though the topic they typically tended to linger on was none other than Bill himself. Given her lengthy lifespan and years of research and searching through the sands of time, Jheselbraum had a vast array of knowledge concerning the dream demon. Such knowledge fascinated Ford to no end, for he had always believed that if he was ever going to truly defeat his most dangerous foe, then the most important step was to know everything there was to know about that foe. And across his many years of traversing the multiverse, he’d never come across someone who had anywhere near as an encyclopedic wealth of information about him as Jheselbraum herself did. And fortunately for Ford, she was more than willing to share all that she knew with him.

“Cipher has existed far before the galaxy you call home even burst to life,” the oracle detailed as she filtered through her countless bookshelves and scrolls for whatever documents she had on the demon. “But the dimension he once called home remains a mystery to this very day, largely because it is long gone. All that’s known of it is that Cipher himself, in his greedy thirst for ceaseless power, destroyed his entire world in a fit of violent fury, obliterating everything and everyone he’d ever known, including his own family--whatever a ‘family’ meant for his kind.”

“Bill? Having a family?” Ford asked with a dry scoff. “I find that hard to believe. Then again, if he really did have one once, brutally destroying them is absolutely in-character for him.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” Jheselbraum shook her head as she came to sit on the other side of the table of her lofty library. She laid out a collection of scrolls and manuscripts for the author to see, each of them bearing some sort of visage or information about the dream demon. “Ever since then, Cipher has been scouring the multiverse for a new world to conquer as his own. He settled on the in-between dimension now known as the Nightmare Realm some centuries ago, but as you’ve likely heard, that world is not meant to exist for much longer. He’s set his eye on several other dimensions in the past, but at the moment, he seems by far the most preoccupied with laying claim to your very own Earth. It’s hard to say why he’s so dead-set on making that planet in particular his own, but-”

“But he won’t,” Ford interrupted, his expression stony and severe as he cleared down at one of the images of Bill laying before him. “I’ll make sure he won’t.”

Jheselbraum finally smiled at this. “You know, Stanford, you claimed that your mission to defeat Cipher had selfish motives based wholly on matters of vengeance, but… I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. Anyone willing to lay their own life down for the sake of the world they call home is nothing less than a hero. At least…” she trailed off, her smile turning just a bit more mysterious as she glanced away from the author. “That’s what I’ve come to believe.”

Ford cleared his throat, admittedly flustered for reasons he couldn’t quite place as he loosely repositioned a few of the bandages still wrapped around his head. “Y-yes, well, whether I’m hailed as a hero or not hardly matters to me. Just as long as I’m finally able to give Bill what he rightfully deserves…”

Strangely, the oracle said nothing to this, her smile gone as each of her eyes focused in on the author intently. Ford froze under her scrutinizing seven-eyed gaze, a gaze that almost seemed to be searching for something. And when it seemed as though she finally found that something, all of her eyes blinked at once as she let out a small, almost amazed gasp as she looked back to the author who was still watching her curiously all the while. “Stanford… forgive me…” she said, her voice soft, revenant even. “I promised I would not glimpse through your future without your permission, but… I must tell you… you have the face of the man who is destined to stop Bill Cipher from conquering your world…”

“R-really?!” Ford balked, startled by this information, though the mere thought filled his chest with a warm burst of pride. He had the highest of hopes that he would be the one to bring Bill down, but to hear the accomplishment of that goal be all but confirmed by an all-seeing oracle herself was so exciting he could hardly stand it.

“Yes,” Jheselbraum nodded intently, placing a hand over his on the table. “And in your bloodline flows the strength and determination to destroy him, and all of his evil intentions, once and for all!”

“Incredible…” the author leaned back in his chair, unable to suppress a relieved, elated smile upon hearing such an idea. “A-are you sure?”

“...Well…” the oracle paused, pulling her hand away as her gaze drifted toward one of the many tapestries hanging from the wall. This one, like many others that decorated the mountain shrine, depicted a peculiar, almost lizard-like creature, one that always seemed to be wearing a calm, amicable smile in every depiction Jheselbraum owned of it. “Only The One Who Watches truly knows…”

“The One Who Watches?” Ford asked, confused.

“..You’ve never heard of it?” the oracle seemed genuinely surprised at this. “How odd. Just about every being in the multiverse is aware of the Great Axolotl.”

“...Isn’t an axolotl some sort of amphibian?” the author asked, still not following.

“This Axolotl is no mere amphibian,” Jheselbraum said, rising from her seat to face her tapestry of the creature. “It is a timeless, infallible, benevolent being that possesses immense power, far greater than the false might Cipher pretends to wield. From its home between time and space, it spreads its goodwill and kindness to all who dwell in the multiverse. It is even the source of my own gift to gaze through the sands of time as it grants me an open window to look into the future that it weaves. The One Who Watches is the decider of fate across all dimensions… and I believe that its very own intervention was what led me to find you and bring you here, Stanford.”

“Hmph, well then, I’ll take your word for it,” Ford remarked almost sardonically.

“You don’t believe me,” Jheselbraum inferred, glancing back at him. “Very well. But you should know that there is an ancient prophecy, passed down by the Great Axolotl itself, that speaks of a chosen one…”

“A chosen one?” Ford smirked. “That sounds a bit cliché, don’t you think?”

“Still not interested?” the oracle pressed with a faint smile. “Well, you might be after you learn that the Axolotl’s chosen one is destined to be the one who will put an end to Bill Cipher… forever.”

“Forever…” Ford repeated, his former amazement swiftly returning. “S-so this… so-called ‘chosen one’... You don’t think it could be-”

“You?” Jheselbraum asked knowingly. “I suppose it could be… But even then the true identity of the chosen one is something that the One Who Watches has not permitted me to see, at least not yet. But I believe that if it were you, Stanford, than the Great Axolotl would be making a very good choice when it comes to its chosen one... “

Ford was so deeply gratified and flattered by such genuine encouragement that he scarcely even knew what to say. Jheselbraum was quick to fill in his stark silence however with an offering to raise their already high spirits even more.

To commemorate Jheselbraum’s hopeful prophecies, we spent the entire night partying and drinking Cosmic Sand--the very same kind Time Baby himself consumes (it’s very sweet though quite strong, like finely aged wine, which is somewhat concerning given that a baby is known to frequently drink it). We had much to be happy about, for as far as Jheselbraum’s glimpses through time were concerned, Bill’s defeat wasn’t too far off into the future. And the mere thought that his cruel trickery would finally be wiped from the cosmos for good was well worth celebrating.

When I awoke the next morning, she was gone and I was in another dimension entirely. It was time to continue my quest.

I sometimes wonder where she is now and if by chance I’ll ever see her again… And if the prophecy she spoke of, as well as the One supposedly behind it, is real after all…

Unlike the dimensions I’ve already described, many dimensions in the multiverse are ‘parallel Earths’, very similar to my dimension, but with a few major differences. There are parallel Earths where dinosaurs still rule (one way or another). And ones where dolphins (rather than Homo sapiens) took over as the dominant species after the dinosaurs went extinct. (These dolphin Earths invariably have the best water parks.) There’s a dimension where all music is just screaming, one where tennis balls chase dogs, and one where everyone is the same--except they’re all babies. I didn’t linger there for too long--I don’t care for being spit up on.

But after nearly 30 years of dimension-hopping, I came upon a parallel Earth almost identical to our own. There was at least one crucial difference.

But that difference was far from obvious when I first arrived there. Because when I initially step foot into that much more fortunate dimension, I couldn’t help but mistake it for my very own instead.

Ford could scarcely believe his eyes as he ventured into this new dimension, one with trees, and grass, and a sky that were just like those of his very own home. Even the crisp springtime air smelled just as pleasantly familiar as he remembered Gravity Falls’ being as he walked through the practically identical forest. Never in the course of the past 30 years had he been to a dimension as similar to the Earth he knew as this one, and yet, he was quick to find that the two dimensions weren’t just alike in aesthetics alone.

For soon enough the natural peace of the forest was broken by voices approaching from the opposite direction Ford was traveling in. Wary as ever, the author slipped behind a larger tree just in case the denizens of this dimension proved to be hostile. And yet, when the group traversing the wood finally came into view, he was completely floored to see that they were none other than a quartet he thought he’d never see again: the Crystal Gems. All four of them looked practically identical to how he remembered them, save for their different outfits, though that hardly fazed Ford as he made the most of an incredible opportunity he thought he’d never get again.

Upon so much as spotting his close friends again for the first time in nearly 30 years, Ford didn’t hesitate, instead throwing all logic and caution out the window as he rushed out from his hiding spot to greet them. “Rose!” he called first, absolutely elated as he ran up to the Gems, completely breaking through their former conversation. “Garnet! Amethyst! Pearl! I-I can’t believe it! It’s you! It’s really you!”

“Uh… yes…?” Rose raised a confused eyebrow as she offered the author a quizzical smile. “Are you feeling alright, Ford? You’re much more… excited than you usually are.”

“Did ya discover some cool new sciency thing again?” Amethyst asked with a playful smirk. “What was it this week--and don’t bother telling me about it unless it’s a way I can shove eats into my gut faster than I already do.”

“Oh, please, Amethyst,” Pearl rebuffed, rolling her eyes. “Stanford must be excited about his odd new attire! From what I’ve observed, humans often tend to celebrate very simple things such as new clothing and the anniversary of the day they came into existence. Though I don’t know if I’d consider clothing like that to be… too exhilarating.” She frowned, looking over the author’s dark, tattered travel attire critically. “No offense, Ford.”

“W-what? No!” Ford shook his head, confused. “I-I don’t understand, you all are acting as though I haven’t been gone for the past 30 years!”

“Um… because you haven’t?” Rose pointed out, just as bewildered. “I’m sorry, are… we playing some sort of strange game here? Because if we are I’m afraid I don’t really know the rules.”

“No, this isn’t a game, Rose,” Ford retired firmly, earnestly. “It really has been 30 years since the last time I’ve seen any of you! Don’t you remember? The portal? Bill? Anything?”

“Bill?” Amethyst piped up. “Pfft, we haven’t talked ‘bout that square of a triangle in forever!”

“Mostly because we haven’t needed to…” Pearl muttered disdainfully.

“This… doesn’t make any sense…” Ford said, more to himself than the Gems. “Maybe I ended up in some sort of bizarre time loop? O-or perhaps I could have time traveled in general? I have been through much stranger over the past thirty years but still…”

“What’s science man goin’ on about this time?” Amethyst wondered as the author continued to anxiously mutter to himself.

“I have no idea…” Pearl shook her head. “But he certainly is acting odd…”

“I’m starting to worry about him…” Rose noted fretfully. “Can you make any sense of what’s going on here, Garnet?”

Garnet simply nodded, adjusting her shades before addressing her companions bluntly. “That’s not Ford. Or at least, he’s not our Ford.”

“What?!” Rose, Pearl, and Amethyst all exclaimed, startled by this news. They reacted to it rather recklessly, each of them summoning their weapons in short order and turning them on Ford, who was more than startled by the sudden hostility as a result.

“An imposter!” Pearl accused hotly.

“Who are you and what you have done with the real Ford?!” Rose asked, her shield and sword both at the ready.

“I-I am the real Ford!” the author protested, stumbling backward.

“But again, not our Ford,” Garnet interrupted calmly.

“What’s that supposed’ta mean?” Amethyst asked, baffled.

“Maybe we should go see Fiddleford,” Rose suggested. “He might be able to help us figure this out.”

“Oh, excellent idea, Rose,” Pearl readily agreed. “He has been working on cloning technology recently. Maybe this Ford is the product of one of his experiments!”

“Wait, Fiddleford?!” Ford’s eyes widened at the mention of his former partner. “Y-you’ve seen Fiddleford recently? Where is he? More importantly, how is he?”

“Well, you can come see him for yourself,” Rose beckoned the author to follow her and the other Gems. “I’m sure he’ll be just as amazed as we are to see another Ford out and about.”

As curious as he was, not only to check in on his old friend but also get to the bottom of this peculiar mystery, Ford didn’t hesitate to follow, even if Pearl and Amethyst still watched him much more suspiciously than Rose and Garnet were. “But don’t think we won’t be keeping a close eye on you…” Pearl warned him as she held up the tail end of the group.

“Yeah, ya dirty “Fordposter”!” Amethyst teased, elbowing the author hard in the knee as she impishly ran past him.

Even so, Ford took their misgivings, both serious and insincere, in stride, letting out a small sigh of relief as he simply allowed himself to relish the feeling of being in the company of his dependable friends once more. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure they were exactly the same as the Crystal Gems he once knew. “It’s hard to believe how much I’ve missed this…” he muttered contentedly to himself, hoping against hope that, even despite how strange the Gems seemed to be acting, he really was back in his own dimension after all these years after all.

But he wasn’t.

Because the differences between this dimension and his own became instantly more apparent as the Gems led the author to where he knew his house should have been. And yet, the homey little shack had received quite an impressive surrounding expansion in the form of a sprawling complex of buildings and structures, one that still featured the Gems’ iconic temple as a fixture of its forested background. Upon seeing the impressive structure, Ford had a multitude of questions, none of which he knew how to properly pose to the Gems as they continued to approach it. Even so, one of those questions was answered as they passed by its sign, which simply donned the campus as the “International Institute of Oddology”.

The Gems seemed to have exclusive access to the institute as they bypassed its front office entirely, entering into its complex series of busy hallways with ease. Just about everyone employed in the building seemed to know the Gems and regard them with friendly pleasantries, though even that paled in comparison to the immediate respect everyone paid Ford in particular. Whenever one of the plentiful lab-coat clad scientists passed him by, they greeted him with excited waves and chipper tidings in which they referred to him as “Dr. Pines” or “Professor Pines”, two titles that Ford had never really gone by before (even though he technically could, given his multiple PhDs. Still, despite this strangely warm reception, nothing could have prepared the author for when the Gems took him into a large, futuristic lab, filled to the brim with just about every scientific tool and tech imaginable. But as astonished by this incredible sight as he was, Ford quickly found himself even more dumbfounded as the Gems led the way to the only other person presently occupying the lab at the moment. None other than Fiddleford McGucket himself.

“Fiddleford!” Rose greeted the inventor brightly as she hurried over to him first.

“Oh! Howdy, ladies!” Fiddleford glanced over his shoulder from whatever he was working on. Unlike the Gems, time had actually had an impact on the inventor, though even despite his shallow wrinkles, short beard, and grayed hair, he’d managed to age rather well just as Ford had. “Ya’ll came just in time! I was just about to-” Fiddleford stopped short, swiveling around in his chair to send a peculiar glance Ford’s way. “Stanford? What in tarnation are you wearing?”

The author largely ignored his question as he instead stepped forward, past the Gems, so he could look his once-treasured colleague in the eye for the first time in three decades. “F-Fiddleford… I-”

“Fiddleford!” Before Ford could even utter another word, his own voice echoed through the lab, albeit from a different source entirely. As if this entire situation wasn’t already shocking enough, Ford was absolutely floored to see himself enter in through the far side of the room. By all accounts, this other author looked strikingly identical, the only real differences in appearance lying in his clean-shaven face and equally clean scientific attire. He wasn’t paying much attention as he approached the mutually baffled group, leafing through a stack of papers as he addressed his partner evenly. “So I was running the numbers on that new modulator we were working on and-” He stopped short as he finally glanced up, only to notice his near mirror match standing just a few feet away from him. “Ugh, Fiddleford, what did I tell you about stealing samples of my DNA for your little cloning side project?”

“Uh… I-I shelved Project Double Vision ‘bout a week ago, Stanford…” Fiddleford noted, his eyes wide as he looked between the two Fords just as incredulously as the Gems all were.

“Oh,” the other Ford said simply as he looked back to his double. “Then this must simply be the case of yet another deluded, overly-obsessed fan. Well,” he addressed the other author, pulling out a surprisingly threatening taser pen as he eyed him critically. “I don’t know how you managed to outwit both security and the Gems here, but I can assure you that we here at the IIO absolutely do not tolerate such-”

“W-wait!” the first Ford interjected hastily, running with the only reasonable guess he could make about this situation, given the bewildering evidence he’d seen. “I think I know what’s going on here.”

“Oh, do you?” the other Ford raised a dubious eyebrow.

“Great!” Amethyst chimed in bluntly. “Then do ya mind filling us in?”

“Yes, please?” Rose added, still clearly quite confused.

“W-well, you see, as far as I can tell, I’m not actually from this dimension,” Ford said, ignoring the sting that came along with admitting that fact. Admitting that he hadn’t really made it home like he’d once thought after all. “Even though it does look practically identical to my own. B-but I have been wandering the multiverse for years now and in that time I’ve come across many parallel dimensions to my own, so the only logical explanation is that this is one of them!”

“Golly!” Fiddleford immediately shot up from his seat upon hearing this. “A near-completely identical parallel dimension!? What are the odds of that?!”

“Now, now, Fiddleford,” the other Ford cautioned, still sternly eyeing his counterpart. “Don’t get too excited. After all, this… supposed other me doesn’t really seem to have much in the way of proof in regard to his claims…”

“Oh, really?” Ford met his double’s skepticism with a simple, succinct response as he held up one of his hands. The other Ford balked at the sight of it, glancing between it at his own similarly unique six-fingered hands before reaching out to touch those of his double to authenticate them. “Unbelievable…” he muttered incredulously. “They’re actually… real… I hate to say this but… you might just be from another dimension after all…”

“Can we skip to the part where we just assume that he is from another dimension?” Fiddleford asked eagerly. “Cause that’s far more excitin’ than just speculatin’!”

“Well even if this Ford is from another dimension,” Pearl cut in with a scowl. “How can we be so sure that he’s anywhere near as trustworthy as ours? He did mention Cipher, of all beings when we first found him, after all.”

“Ugh, now there’s a name I haven’t heard in ages…” the other Ford muttered disdainfully as Fiddleford shuddered fearfully beside him. “And I’d just as soon never hear it again for the rest of my life. So what business do you have with… him?”

“I assure you, the only ‘business’ I have with him is putting a stop to his treachery once and for all,” Ford affirmed coldly.

“Wait…” Rose spoke up with a frown. “You mean… you haven’t already done that where you’re from?”

“...What do you mean?”

“Oof, well if you actually are from some parallel dimension, then I don’t even want to know how much of a disaster things are there if you’re still dealing with him,” Alternate Ford shook his head. “Because here all it took to keep him from slipping into our reality was a basic Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer to optimize the portal away from the Nightmare Realm, allowing us to safely use it as we please.”

“W-wha--when in the world did you find time to invent something like that?” Ford asked, admittedly wishing that he had done the very same before it had been too late.

“We all did it together!” Rose smiled warmly.

“It was pretty easy between the six of us,” Garnet added as coolly as ever.

“Yes, if I remember correctly, we reconvened to devise the schematics for it right after I sent Stanley away with my first journal…” Alternate Ford mused thoughtfully.

“Wait… your Stanley actually listened to you when you told him to take the journal and leave?!”

“Yours didn’t?”

“Ugh… of course, he didn’t…” Ford groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. Suddenly, the basic differences of this dimension were becoming all too clear. The split had resulted from a moment so simple, so singular that it might not have mattered at all when it actually happened, but now it clearly did. Because his Stan refusing to take the journal away had been the very reason why he’d wound up sucked into the portal in the first place. And the Stan of this dimension agreeing to do so was the very reason why his alternate self stood before him today. “Honestly, I’m surprised that any version of Stanley actually would, given how frustratingly stubborn he is…”

“Well, here I suppose he was just a little… less stubborn than usual,” Alternate Ford shrugged. “Either that or he had a moment of genuine clarity for once in his life. Even so, we made good on the advantage splitting the journals up gave us, built the Neutralizer, and we haven’t seen or heard from Bill ever since.”

On this Earth, I was never pushed into the portal by Stan.

On this Earth, my brother listened to me and took Journal 1 away from Gravity Falls.

On this Earth, I reunited with Fiddleford and Rose and the Gems, and together, created a Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer that allowed us to use the portal without any risk of a connection to Bill’s Nightmare Realm.

And as a result of those rippling turns of fate, on this Earth, my parallel self was a celebrated star of the scientific community. With the help of Parallel Fiddleford and the Parallel Gems, over the years, he had amassed a wide array of incredible discoveries and inventions, all of which he had publicly published through his journals. And as other scientists read through those journals, it didn’t take long for more aspiring brilliant minds to flock to Gravity Falls, like a moth to a flame, all of them looking to my parallel self for direction when it came to investigating the town’s previously unheard of anomalies. That building community of scientists came together to turn his small cabin in the woods into the sprawling International Institute of Oddology (of which my parallel self was both the founder and chief researcher). And as my parallel self detailed the differences of both his life and his dimension to me, one thought ran paramount within my mind above all else. That this life of success and recognition could have just as easily been my own… ff only Stanley had actually listened to me for a change instead of thinking only of himself like he’s always done!

When it was my turn to spell out the details of my vendetta against Bill to my alternate self and his friends, obvious interest was mutually peaked among them all. Parallel Fiddleford’s knee began to bounce with the agitation and excitement as my very own Fiddleford used to carry, and the Parallel Gems all whispered anxiously, yet eagerly to each other. Parallel Rose was every bit the heroic spirit as the Rose I knew as she seemed by far the most intent on seeing Bill be brought to justice, a sentiment my parallel counterpart also keenly shared. Although their dimension was safe from Bill, they all understood the threat Cipher posed to the wider multiverse. They all agreed to do whatever they could to help.

I showed them my unfinished Quantum Destabilizer--a weapon I was designing to blast Bill into non-existence. The problem, my parallel self theorized, was the power source. In all my travels since leaving Jheselbraum, I had never come across an element that had both the necessary power and the required stability. Parallel Fiddleford piped up with a suggestion, an element that he had discovered in the Paradox Dimension. It was inert when visible, but highly radioactive when hidden. He called it NowUSeeItNowUDontium (a unique flair for language was something else he had in common with my Fiddleford).

Even just a small sample of the element would be more than enough to get my Destabilizer up and running. The only issue was that NowUSeeItNowUDontium (what a mouthful!) was a notoriously difficult element to work with given just how potentially toxic it could prove to be to humans at the seemingly random points it blinked in and out of existence. That’s where the Parallel Gems came in. As unaffected by radiation as their non-organic forms are, they were able to handle the element with ease, and fortunately, Parallel Pearl in particular was well-versed in working with it thanks to past experiments.

While the Parallel Gems did their part, I spent the next several days tinkering and making minor adjustments to my blaster’s design, working alongside Parallel Fiddleford and my alternate self to perfect it into a weapon to bring Bill to his swift, much-deserved end. Those few days were filled with plenty of scintillating discussions about the multiverse, parallel dimensions, and of course, the various distinctions and differences of this dimension in particular. The more my parallel self detailed the countless highlights and accomplishments of his lengthy career, the more I wished that my own path had run the same as his as opposed to the ruin I ran into when I was younger. This version of myself had gotten everything I had only ever dreamed of: fame, respect, and the chance to hold onto close friends that I had fallen away from so long ago. And while I didn’t envy him to the point of wanting to take all that he had away from him, I had to admit that if I had even just a fraction of the good fortune my parallel self had known, then perhaps my life would have turned out far different than it had ended up going.

As much as I might have wanted to revel in my parallel self’s success, it was clear that there was literally no place for me in this dimension. Even if I could have stayed there for the rest of my days, my own conscious would not have allowed it. I still held onto the vow I had made close to 30 years earlier to destroy Bill Cipher. And after about a week of finalizing and finishing my Quantum Destabilizer, it was finally time for me to do exactly that.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Parallel Rose asked as everyone prepared to see the author off on his way.

“Yeah, havin’ another science man around could be fun!” Parallel Amethyst quipped as impishly as ever. “‘Specially if he can finally invent that food shovel I’ve been asking for forever now!”

“I have to admit that even though I was somewhat… distrustful of another Stanford just randomly showing up out of the blue, it was still a pleasure working with you all the same,” Parallel Pearl grinned, cordially extending her hand out for Ford to shake.

“Safe travels,” Parallel Garnet bid him succinctly. “And don’t worry about your cellmate when you meet her. You’ll see her again eventually.”

“Um… thank you?” Ford frowned, confused by this strange, cryptic advice.

“Go take that Quantum Destabilizer ‘n show that rabble rousin’, no-good son of gun Cipher what for!” Parallel Fiddleford cheered with all of the southern zeal Ford was familiar with when it came to his own Fiddleford.

“For the sake of your dimension, our own, and countless others exactly like both,” the parallel author began intently. “I wish you luck. Or, uh… I wish me luck? Huh. Even after a week this is still confusing.”

“Thank you,” Ford nodded warmly. “All of you. I have no doubts that our hard work will go a long way toward putting a stop to Cipher and his tyranny once and for all.”

“We can only hope,” Parallel Ford agreed as the others fondly began to wave the author off.

“Happy trails, Other Stanford!” Parallel Fiddleford called cheerily.

“I hope you make it back home someday!” Parallel Rose added just as brightly.

“And if you don’t make it back to your own dimension, then you’re always welcome to visit ours any time you’d like!” Parallel Pearl chimed in somewhat obliviously.

“That’s not very likely to happen,” Parallel Garnet pointed out, though she didn’t explain much more beyond that.

Even so Ford continued on his way back into the woods, savoring his last few moments in this world that was so very much like his own before he ultimately left it entirely.

After 30 long years of planning in the shadows and biding my time, my chance finally seemed to have arrived. With the finished Quantum Destabilizer in tow, there was nothing keeping me from returning to the place where this nightmare had begun to put an end to the one who had woven it in the first place.

I was finally ready to go back to the Nightmare Realm and face Bill Cipher.

And yet… the dimension I ended up in next was about as far from the Nightmare Realm as I could have gotten… and pitted me against a threat that was every bit as dangerous as Bill:

The Gem Homeworld and the Great Diamond Authority.

#jen writes #universe falls #gravity falls #steven universe #crossover #au #fanfiction #ford #jheselbraum #fiddleford #rose quartz #garnet #amethyst #pearl #adventures in the multiverse #adrift in the cosmos #keyword is dimension 52

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years ago

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Best That You Can Do Chapter 5: Reboot

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Read it on AO3

The next morning, Kaitlyn looks like hell. Not worse than William Dodds looked the day after he’d discovered his son was alive, but nearly as bad. She’s wearing her usual crisp, professional suit, and she’s made an effort with her hair and makeup, but he suspects she scraped all her hair back into the unflattering, tight bun so she wouldn’t have to fuss with it, and no amount of makeup can hide the dark circles around her sunken eyes.

When she comes in for their usual morning stand-up meeting, he asks her to close the door.

“How are you doing this morning?” He asks, waving her to one of the chairs in front of his desk while he remains seated. His look and the tone of his voice are soft. Concerned.

Kaitlyn doesn’t answer right away, just sighs and sits heavily in the chair he indicated. Dodds just waits.

“I think I was in shock last night. Because now that it’s starting to sink in, I feel…” She shakes her head with a grimace. “About a million different things.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

“A little. Unfortunately.”

“Sorry. I should’ve warned you about the dreams.”

Kaitlyn just nods.

“I really hate whatever fucking no-name agency did this, and I especially hate that they seem to know what they’re talking about with that manual. It makes me sick to think that they have enough experience to know how to handle this shit.”

“Mike’s alive. I don’t understand why I’m so messed up about that!” Kaitlyn’s voice breaks. She’s really not doing very well. “It’s good news! Why am I not just happy?”

“I can tell you why, if you’re interested. I ended up having to take that little State Department weenie’s advice and see a shrink about this. I’ll give you his name, if you want.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But the thing is, Chief, I don’t know if I’m ready to see Mike yet. Is that weird?”

“Not even a little bit. It’s why they don’t let you see him right away. And if it makes you feel any better, that’s exactly how I felt. Coffee?”

“No, thanks. I’m not sure my stomach’s up to it right now.”

Dodds nods. “Listen, you should know that he’s having his own issues with being back. It’s not uncommon when you’ve been undercover, but this… this is a whole different ballgame. So I don’t think you should plan on seeing him right away. We just both wanted you to hear it from me before the news gets out. He’s still carrying a torch for you, you know.”

Kaitlyn actually grins a little at that. “You’re relentless.”

He grins, too, and shrugs.

“Can I ask you something, Sir? You learned about this six months after they said he died, which is right about when you brought me back here. Was that why?”

“Yes and no. I’d been thinking about it for a while, but I was ashamed. I thought you’d be seriously miffed, and refuse to work with me again. I honestly didn’t know how to fix what I’d done. But then, when I learned he was alive, I just told myself it was as good a reason as any to try to correct my mistake in sending you away. Even if you didn’t know why.”

“I’m glad you did. Thank you again.”

“Don’t thank me. It was purely selfish, and you know it.”

They share a quiet laugh, and William thinks Kaitlyn looks a little bit better than she did when she came in. “Anyway, Mike’s working with a counselor, and she’s calling the shots right now. It’ll be a few days, I think, before she lets him see anyone but me. In the meantime, you keep just doing what you’re doing. Work through it and talk to me. OK?”

“I will. But can you at least tell him I said hi?” The hopeful light in her eyes almost immediately turns to doubt. “Ugh, that seems so lame, nevermind. I can’t… Just forget it.”

“I’ll tell him. It’ll make him happy. He needs that right now. Like I said, he’s struggling.”

The next day, Chief Dodds comes into Kaitlyn’s office before it’s even time for their stand-up meeting. He’s grinning ear to ear, and he has a slip of paper in his hand, which he’s waving as if he’s getting away with something.

“What’s that?” Kaitlyn asks suspiciously.

“It’s contraband,” he answers, full of glee. “He doesn’t have permission to contact anyone yet, but he insisted, and he looked so happy about it that I agreed to smuggle this to you.”

“Oh, shit. Is that… from Mike?”

With a ridiculous smile, Dodds hands the slip of paper to Kaitlyn. It’s just a page from a small note pad, with a few words scrawled on it, but it feels precious. Kaitlyn vaguely recognizes Mike’s handwriting from the countless birthday and Father’s Day cards the Chief’s displayed on his desk over the years. She’s surprised to find that she’s shaking. She’s actually holding a note from Mike Dodds, written the night before. He’s really alive.

I guess ghosts are supposed to say boo, but this one just wants to say hi back.

See you soon,

Mike

P.S. They didn’t give me a choice, but I’m sorry anyway.

Kaitlyn looks up from the note with a bright smile that’s at odds with the tears running down her cheeks. She stands up to hug Chief Dodds, who just looks smug.

************

Mike had actually come pretty close to learning what the U.S. penitentiary in Leavenworth looks like from the inside before he’d finally admitted that he wasn’t getting out of taking part in the operation the feds had abducted him for. His rage at learning what they’d done to him and everyone who cared about him had been insurmountable at first. It had actually hindered his healing for a while, until a guy with suits that made even his dad’s look cheap, whose rank Mike wasn’t allowed to know, had basically told him to sack up and deal with it. After that, Mike had decided he might as well get on with it, since he wasn’t getting out of it.

He’s always been good at undercover work, and following orders has never been a problem for him, so once he accepted his fate, he’d been all right. He just tried to be the guy they’d turned him into. He blocked out the thought of his parents – well, mostly his dad – believing he was dead and having to deal with all of that. He tried not to think about his friends, either, although he did have a couple of morbid laughs at the idea of just showing up at Carisi and Barba’s door someday and scaring the shit out of Sonny.

And that’s kind of the problem. He hasn’t really been Mike Dodds for a year. He’s intensely glad to be home, it’s just that it’s a little hard to feel like he’s home because he’d never seen this apartment before two weeks ago, and nothing in it belongs to him. In fact, not much of anything belongs to him because, of course, his family got rid of everything when he died. He doesn’t have a job, because he’s still sort of a secret until they finish putting together the plan to announce his resurrection, which is apparently a whole thing. He just wants this to be over, so he can be Mike Dodds again, whoever the fuck that is.

That’s why he’s been so grateful to get to hang out with his dad and talk about just normal shit like sports and what the SVU squad is doing, and memories from years ago that help him remember what’s real and what’s the lie he’s been living for the past year. It’s why he gets so excited when they let him sneak over to his dad’s apartment. It’s the only place that feels even remotely like home, although he’s never lived there. And it’s why he wasn’t about to take no for an answer when his dad said that Kaitlyn had asked him to say hello for her, and he got the idea to send her a note.

When his dad tells him about her reaction to his note, Mike’s joy at the news is out of all proportion to the reality of the silly little exchange. He’s tired of being cooped up in this strange apartment, with no visitors except for his dad. He’s tired of not being able to work out or go running. He’s really tired of being alone with his own thoughts. He knows that’s a big part of his eagerness to see Kaitlyn, but it’s not the whole story. Mike is certain that he was close to getting through to her before he was fucking kidnapped (they really hated it when he kept calling it that). And he’s been pissed off for a whole year at being cock-blocked by the federal government.

It’s a week before Mike is finally allowed to see Kaitlyn, and he’s started to think it will never happen. Everyone’s been told he’s alive, and they’re still in the time frame where they’re not allowed to see him, but Kaitlyn got the news early, so she’s ready. Or as ready as she’s going to get. He’s not at all sure what this is going to be like.

He’s had ten thousand fantasies about it. She’s naked in a lot of them, but he’s actually not expecting anything like that, and not just because his dad’s going to be here. The whole thing’s just so fucked up there’s no telling which way it’s gonna go. He’s imagined tears and hugging about as often as he’s imagined yelling and face-slapping.

Kaitlyn and his dad are coming over for dinner. He throws together some spaghetti sauce, adding some special touches he’s tried and found he likes. He’s not much of a cook, but he figures everybody likes spaghetti, and the meal isn’t really the point, anyway.

In a way, he’s kind of glad he has very little in the way of clothes, because that means he doesn’t have the option of worrying about how he’s going to look when they finally see each other. He just takes a shower and puts on jeans and a grey T-shirt. And then he sits down to wait. For as long as he’s been looking forward to seeing her again, it seems like another few minutes should be nothing, but that’s not how it goes. The last half hour crawls.

*********

The Chief’s like a little kid, he’s so excited. He’s chattering and smiling and hurrying Kaitlyn along, and it’s really annoying. Because she’s beyond nervous. She’s sick with anxiety about what Mike will look like, and how she’ll feel, and what she’s supposed to say to a guy she treated like shit pretty much from the moment they met until the moment he died. Except that he didn’t die, and now she’s supposed to figure out the etiquette for that fucked-up scenario.

Kaitlyn can’t decide whether she’s glad Chief Dodds is here or not. She’s a mess and she knows it, and hopefully he’ll be able to smooth things over if the wheels come completely off. But she and Mike have basically jumped each other immediately each time they’ve spent any time together, so… The whole thing is insane. She’s been dying for this moment for a week, and now that it’s here, all she wants is for it to be over.

They park in a dinky little lot behind a square, brick apartment building and Kaitlyn’s shaking legs carry her up four flights of stairs before the Chief knocks on a green metal door in an overlit, echoing cinderblock hallway.

And then, just like that, Mike’s standing right in front of her. His hair is longer, and he has a bit of facial scruff, both of which look ridiculously good on him. His eyes, though… he looks like maybe it’s been a long year for him, too. She’s imagined this moment incessantly since she learned he was alive, but she’s still surprised, because the one thing she didn’t expect is that he would still just be Mike. And that’s the part that hits her like a freight train. It’s like the last year never happened. He’s just Mike, and she’s just Kaitlyn, same as they were the last time they saw each other.

She thought maybe they’d throw themselves into each other’s arms at this moment. Instead, they stand five feet apart and it’s awkward. But only for a moment. Because, suddenly, she realizes the ridiculousness of pretty much everything about what’s happened between them up to now, and she starts to laugh. Instantly, as if he’s been trying to hold it in and she’s just given him permission he never expected to get, he bursts out laughing, too. And that’s when they hug.

In the few weeks they knew each other before he died, Kaitlyn and Mike had been plenty close a few times. But they’d never just hugged. Kaitlyn decides she’s glad about that. She’s glad she didn’t know how overwhelmingly good it is to be hugged by this huge, warm guy who smells like soap and masculinity, especially when he’s still laughing a little bit and she can feel it, deep and low in his chest, against her. He’s big. She’s forgotten how just plain big Mike is. She’s standing on her tiptoes and she feels like he’s surrounding her. She thinks hugging this man might just become her new obsession.

Kaitlyn can’t think of any words to say, and apparently Mike can’t, either. Maybe there just aren’t any, or maybe there’s no reason to say anything. So they just hug and laugh a little and Kaitlyn turns her head into Mike’s neck and just breathes him in, dimly aware of the lovely fact that he’s got his face buried in her hair. It goes on so long that Chief Dodds is in the kitchen putting a pot of water on for the noodles by the time they relax their hold on one another. They stand together, her hands on his shoulders and his on her waist, just looking at each other.

“You OK?” Mike asks tenderly.

Kaitlyn huffs a little laugh. It takes her a moment, shaking her head and making a face, before she says, “I don’t know what I am. I just know how happy I am to see you.”

“You, too. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She sighs. “And I need to tell you I’m sorry. About the way I treated you. The things I said. I screwed up, Mike. And I don’t just mean because Susan’s all over the internet enslaving poor what’s-his-name. I knew it before that. I’m sorry.”

“You’re seriously apologizing to me right now? When I made you go to my funeral?”

“You didn’t do that. You didn’t have any more choice than the rest of us.” Suddenly, she’s holding him again, and he’s holding her back just as tightly.

When they finally relax and step apart a little, Mike asks if she’s hungry, tilting his head a little toward the tiny kitchen where Mike’s dad is trying his best to be invisible. It’s only then that Kaitlyn realizes there’s a wonderful smell of cooking in the air.

“Spaghetti,” Mike says proudly.

“It’s the only thing he knows how to make,” the Chief says laughingly, unable to stop himself.

“Spaghetti sounds good.” Kaitlyn beams up at Mike. “And it smells wonderful.”

Mike starts toward the kitchen and Kaitlyn sees that Chief Dodds has a dishtowel around his waist for an apron and his shirtsleeves rolled up. It’s kind of adorable, and she appreciates how discreet he’s been, letting her and Mike greet each other however they needed to. She stands watching as Mike opens a bottle of wine and the Chief puts together garlic bread. For a moment, she just watches Mike – the play of muscles beneath his T-shirt, the way his hair falls over his eyes just a little – and realizes that she hadn’t been romanticizing his memory. He really is that good looking. She realizes something else, too. She wants him bad, but raging desire aside, she likes him much, much more than she ever knew.

Mike’s poured three glasses of wine, but the Chief shoos him out of the kitchen and tells him to go get re-acquainted with Kaitlyn while he finishes dinner. Mike doesn’t argue. He takes two of the glasses and settles on the couch with her, then holds up his glass.

“What are we drinking to?”

“Hmmmmm. Well, L’chaim seems appropriate, but maybe resurrection might be closer to the mark,” Kaitlyn grins.

Mike looks skeptical. “Uhhhh, I only know of one guy who did that, and I’m sure the hell not Him. Let’s stick with L’chaim.”

His words are light, but his expression and his tone tell Kaitlyn that, whatever demons he’s been wrestling with, the match isn’t over yet. She decides it’s way too early in their reunion to get into that unless he wants to, and he doesn’t seem to want to. So she changes the subject.

“How much are you allowed to tell me about where you’ve been?”

“Nothing,” he frowns. “Can’t tell you where I was, or what I was doing, and I don’t even really know exactly who I was working for, although I know they were the good guys. All I can tell you is, I’m proud of what I was doing. What we got done.”

Kaitlyn smiles at Mike. “I know Rangers don’t say ‘Hooah’, but it seems appropriate. There’s no doubt in my mind you were doing something great.”

He’s so damn adorable when he blushes and looks down like that! Kaitlyn asks what the Chief has told him about how things have been in New York while he’s been gone. She finds some amusing stories about things his dad has done and said that he hasn’t yet heard, and she tells Mike how kind Sonny Carisi had been to her at his funeral. It’s skirting a tough subject that’s best left alone for a while, but it is a nice story, and he seems pleased to hear it.

“That sounds like Carisi,” he says, smiling quietly. “He’s a good guy. I’m lookin’ forward to seeing him.”

“He called me, you know,” Kaitlyn tells him. “The day the squad was told you’re alive. He called to see if I was all right, and we spent half an hour basically saying nothing but ‘holy shit’.”

“He would. He sound like he’s handling it OK?”

“Oh, yeah. He was ecstatic. Apparently, Barba practically had to breathe into a paper bag, and I think being there for Rafael kind of forced Sonny to just focus on the positive.”

“He’d do that anyway. He’s never down for long.”

Mike reaches over and takes Kaitlyn’s hand. “You look good,” he says softly.

“You do, too.” Before giving it a thought, Kaitlyn reaches over and cups a hand over his cheek, rubbing it back and forth on his scruff. “This works for you.”

Mike laughs. “It’s actually not a fashion statement. I just couldn’t be bothered when they won’t let me go anywhere.”

“Now, that’s just rude,” the Chief says, surprising them. Kaitlyn’s been so focused on Mike that she had completely forgotten he was there, even though he’s been bustling around the kitchen and he set the table on the other side of the room they were sitting in. “You knew you were going to see Kaitlyn tonight. You could’ve shaved.”

Mike dips his head in acknowledgement. “I should have. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I told you, I like it.”

“Anyway,” Chief Dodds says, “Dinner’s ready.”

Mike and Kaitlyn get up from the couch and make their way over to the table. Mike is the first to notice.

“Dad, you only set two places.”

“I know. I’m not staying.”

“What?” Kaitlin exclaims. “Why not?”

“Because I was only here in case things were awkward. They’re not. And I was actually texting with Olivia Benson while the noodles cooked, and we’re going to meet at Maxwell’s for a drink. So you two are on your own.”

He looks entirely too pleased with himself, but Kaitlyn can’t find any room in her heart to hold it against him. Mike doesn’t look at all unhappy, either.

“You sure? I made tons of spaghetti,” he urges.

“Son, I’m thrilled to have you back, and Kaitlyn, you know I like you. But I’d rather have a drink with a beautiful woman than hang out here and be a third wheel with you kids.”

Kaitlyn notices that he’s removed the dishtowel from his waist and rolled down his sleeves. She smiles happily as she hugs him. “Thank you, Sir. For being here. It helped me be less nervous.”

Mike hugs him, too, and sees him to the door. “Have a good time,” he says to his father, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“You too, Son,” the Chief answers, and he’s not teasing at all.

Mike and Kaitlyn sit down together at the table. It’s far more comfortable than Kaitlyn would ever have hoped in her anxiety-ridden daydreams about this dinner. The excellent wine the Chief brought and the surprisingly good food help.

“Mmmm. If you only know how to cook one thing, I’m glad it’s this good.”

“I can cook other things, that was just Dad giving me shit.”

“Really? What’s your specialty?”

“Well, OK, my specialty happens to be spaghetti. But I also make a mean baloney sandwich. And no one makes better mac & cheese from a box.”

“Ooh. So if this whole cop thing doesn’t work out…”

“Right. I’m opening a restaurant.”

The rest of the meal is fun and easy. They talk the whole time, learning about each other and laughing more than not.

“You know what I just realized?” Kaitlyn wears a complex smile.

“What?”

“This is the most you and I have ever talked to each other. Before, we didn’t… do much talking.”

She doesn’t know how Mike manages it, but his smile is both a little shy and a little suggestive. “I guess that’s right. C’mon. We can talk while we do the dishes. I’m afraid this palace doesn’t feature a dishwasher.”

While they clear the table and wash the dishes, they talk about Mike’s plans to return to SVU and to choose his own apartment. He has no idea who picked this place, but he doesn’t like it much. That conversation leads to more somber topics, so that by the time they’re once again sitting together on the couch, sipping the last of the wine, Mike is sharing some of the things he’s currently dealing with. Kaitlyn listens sympathetically, although she has no experience from which to draw any wisdom.

“I wish I knew something comforting to say. I guess once you’re back to work, and you have your friends around you again, less time to just sit around and think…”

“Yeah. I know you’re right. It’s nice just being here with you. I mean, my dad’s great and all, but he’s only one person. And he’s nowhere near as cute as you are.”

Kaitlyn is sure she’s blushing. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Do you… I mean, I know I messed everything up before. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to just forget it ever happened. But if not, if you maybe wanted to… Would you want to maybe go out with me sometime?”

She can see he has to stifle a laugh at that. “You sure you wanna be seen with a dead guy?”

“Well, if you start to, like, decompose, we’ll have to re-negotiate. But you look pretty good right now.”

“So do you.”

The look he gives her turns her insides to hot mush. Kaitlyn has no idea she’s leaning over to kiss Mike until he meets her halfway and she finds her lips pressed to his. But it’s a different kiss than they’ve ever shared before. Slower, quieter, a destination in itself. He doesn’t move closer to her, but remains sitting next to her, at a bit of an angle, with only their knees touching.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I’d like to go out with you. I’d love the chance to do it right.”

“Yeah. No dying this time.” Kaitlyn enjoys their laughter at that, but she kind of regrets killing the romantic mood that was building.

Mike sighs and lays his head back. “Shit, Kaitlyn, this whole thing’s been such a mind fuck. I feel really adrift right now. Like I’m half him still, and half me. I know that sounds really stupid.”

“No. You’ve been him for almost a year. You had no contact with anyone who knows Mike. It makes perfect sense.”

“It feels like shit.”

“What can I do? How can I help?”

Mike takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I don’t know.” He lifts his head and looks at her. “Hold me, maybe?”

Kaitlyn’s closed the space between them and scooted her arms around him before he takes his next breath. “Like this?”

Mike doesn’t answer, just sighs with what sounds like relief, and wraps her up, softly but securely squeezing her to him.

“Did I ever tell you how good you smell?” Kaitlyn asks.

“Uh-uh.” She feels him chuckle a little.

“Well, you do. Really good. I could hold you like this all day.”

For the next two hours, they’re together on Mike’s couch, talking quietly, bodies pressed together and arms entwined. They smooch a few times, and Mike feels so good Kaitlyn really wants to start something, but she doesn’t. She’s sure she could get Mike to cooperate, but it doesn’t seem like that’s what he needs from her right now. He asked her to hold him, and that’s what she’s doing. If he makes a move, she’s all over it, but just being close and learning about each other is really, really good, too.

Over time, they’ve migrated so that Mike is half-lying, with his legs hanging off the couch. He’s holding Kaitlyn on his chest, her legs curled on the cushion behind his thighs. She’s full, and warm, and comfortable, which means she yawns. She feels him lift his head and look at her.

“You tired? Or bored?”

Kaitlyn lifts her head, too, and meets his eyes. “Definitely not bored. I just worked all day, is all. My boss is kind of a tyrant.”

“Sounds like a bastard,” he grins.

“He’s all right. Gets me dates sometimes. So there’s that.”

Mike smooths his hand over Kaitlyn’s hair, which she’s worn down because she thinks that’s how he likes it. He sighs deeply. “I don’t want to let you go home.”

She drops her chin to his chest. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Then don’t. Stay here, with me. I’m not making a pass, I promise. I just want you here.”

“I’d be OK with you making a pass, Mike. But what I really want is just to be where you are. I really missed you.”

Kaitlyn gives Mike a long kiss.

*************

Mike likes lingerie. He likes it a lot, actually. But Kaitlyn in his Jets jersey is sexier than anything he’s ever seen in a Victoria’s Secret catalog. And the best part is, she seems to understand that he just wants to snuggle together. It’s been forever since he hasn’t slept alone – in fact, for a whole lot of reasons, Kaitlyn’s the last woman he slept with – and right now, what he needs more than anything is the pure, simple warmth and security of feeling her breathing next to him. She’s soft in all the right places, and he definitely wants to slide his hands inside the jersey, but he doesn’t. Based on the way she keeps starting to slide her hands over his chest, and then stopping herself, he thinks maybe he should have worn a shirt with the soft shorts he’s wearing, because she might be feeling the same.

Mostly, he thinks she’s as happy as he is to be cuddled together in each other’s arms, and it’s not long before he falls into the quietest, deepest sleep he’s had since the day he was shot.

The morning is a different story. They wake up with their limbs as tightly wrapped around each other as ever. Mike finds that his hands, of their own accord, have found their way inside the jersey Kaitlyn’s wearing. She doesn’t seem to mind, given that her back’s pressed up against his chest, and she’s moving with him as he grinds against her backside. Oops. He stops rubbing his half-hard cock against her just long enough to kiss the back of her neck where it’s right in front of his lips. When she shivers and gives a soft moan, he starts again and moves his hands the rest of the way onto her breasts.

Kaitlyn slides a hand up Mike’s thigh to his buttock and turns her head enough that she can kiss him, although it’s an awkward angle. Pretty soon, though, he’s fully hard and she turns around in his arms. Their kisses this morning are much more intimate and intrusive than the night before. If she’d kissed him like this then, they definitely wouldn’t be wearing clothes now. Which, he thinks, is something he really wants to change. He reaches for the hem of her jersey and gets a jolt of electricity when she lifts her arms to help him take it off her. Then he removes her panties and his shorts, and she moves to press the length of their bodies together as they kiss.

It’s different this time. They’re moving more slowly, and taking time to make sure they’re making each other feel good, touching and stroking. Mike pulls Kaitlyn on top of him and she moves against him, rubbing his body with hers, making sure to slide along his cock as she does, until he puts a hand on each hip and purposely positions her where he wants her.

She’s happy to give him what he wants, and she’s deliciously hot and wet, although he notices that she takes her time, working him in inch by inch, sliding up and down his shaft and taking a little more of him each time until he’s buried in her. It’s the slowest they’ve ever fucked, and it goes on for a very long time. After an eternity of her moving over him, he rolls them over and thrusts into her for a while, and they’re sitting up with her straddling his lap by the time they finally get serious about making each other come. When they do, they’re looking at each other, with what are probably unconscionably gooey smiles, but it’s entirely right in the moment.

Kaitlyn’s almost half asleep again, paying little attention to the way Mike’s moving because she assumes he’s just stretching, until she hears him speak.

“Hey, Dad, it’s me.” There’s a silence. “Good. Great. But I’m afraid Kaitlyn’s not going to make it in to work today. Some kinda flu or something.”

Kaitlyn’s eyes are open now.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Probably a twenty-four hour thing. Maybe forty-eight. I’ll let you know.” There’s another silence, after which Mike laughs a little. “OK. Thanks, Dad. See you.”

Mike touches the screen of his phone with his thumb and tosses it onto his bedside table. He turns to look at Kaitlyn lying in the crook of his arm looking at him with an amused frown.

“He says you’re fired, and he’ll see you Thursday.”

Kaitlyn thought she was worn out for the moment, but as soon as Mike starts kissing her and touching her again, she catches a second wind.

#Law & Order SVU #law & order: special victims unit #mike dodds #mike dodds is alive and well #andy karl #married barisi #Chief WIlliam Dodds #peter gallagher

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stories-forthe-void · 6 years ago

Text

Summer Nights and Pool Fights~ Lee Minho

This is the town that I based the landscape off. It’s kind of important to the descriptions. Also, I, ’m sorry for writing so many stories about the beach but it’s where I’ve grown up so my mind kind of goes there when I need a quick setting. Anyways enjoy the fic ^^. Also I promise to make this all look nicer when I get back from hiatus. Only 9 days this time!

My fingers felt like they were going to fall off and my brain was being fried within my skull from the hours I had spent trying to sight read a 17/8 time signature. Join the state orchestra, they said. It'll be fun. Fun my foot. I'd spent all day sitting in one of my college’s music rooms practising for a massive concert next month and I still couldn't get the last few bars of the flute solo down.

It’s not that hard Y/N.

I know OK just go away I need to concentrate.

She’ll kick you out if you don’t get it down by next week Y/N.

I get it Ok! I’m trying just-

“Y/N?” Then the door rattled. Dammit, Minho. You always pick the perfect time to make an entrance. I tried to ignore the banging on the door. “Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open the door.” He rattled the door again. “Please, your mom gave me some of her lasagnas to bring you!” I was at the door in seconds and unlocking it before he could say anything more.

You lost to pasta again Y/N.

“Y/N-”

“Shh, no speaking, now where’s the pasta?” I held out my hand.

“I knew that would work. Here,” he handed me a Tupperware full of my mom’s famous lasagna. I swear they should make like a black market where children can sell their mother’s cooking. I could make millions!

“Now would you like to explain why you haven’t come out of this room the whole weekend? Seriously you know there are better places to practice than on campus, right? Like why would you willingly come back here?” He gave me a typical Minho face that said: really Y/N? You could be spending your weekends with your amazing best friend, but no you prioritize your metal tube over me. Oh, the horror!

“I have my reasons!” I exclaimed, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Name three decent ones.”

“Alright, reason one: they have aircon in here and my fan messes with the sound waves.” He shot me another typical Minho look. ”I'm serious! It's a legitimate problem in the flautist community!”

“Alright, alright, kind of I believe you. Now, two more reasons. Come on.”

“I, um, yeah, um, ok! Stop looking at me like that. The concert is next month Minho! Did expect me to just sit and do nothing?” I exclaimed

“No, I don't, but I do expect you to instil some basic self-care! You can't just lock yourself in a music room all long weekend from dusk till dawn and then every afternoon after class. You need a break. Believe me, I need one too. We have a competition next week but I don’t lock myself in the practice room! So, please let me take you out of this horribly decorated room and do something fun with your best friend.” It's not that I didn't want to it was just that I couldn't. I was new in the orchestra. I still wasn't technically an official member, which meant Mrs Walsh could kick me out whenever she wished.

“Minho I can’t -”

“Y/N I get it. You're scared. I mean I would be too with a conductor like Mrs Walsh, but you are one of the best flautists I know.”

“I'm the only flautist you know” I deadpanned.

“That's beside the point. You need a break.”

“Okay let's say I agree to this madness. What are we going to do? It's not like we can just take a drive to some magical island in the middle of nowhere.”

“Oh Y/N, you severely underestimate my connections.” There it was. That was the Minho smile. The very reason I walked up to him on the first day of high school, right after the English teacher found at least 15 paper aeroplanes stuck to the ceiling with increasingly cringy quotes from fanfic.

“Don’t look at me like that. It makes me nervous!”

“Minho where are we going?!” He had dragged me back to my dorm, made me pack a bag and on top of that insist I leave my flute behind. “Ok no. I’m being serious where are we going. My room mate will kill me if I just run off to some random mountain reserve with a boy.”

“Calm your farm Y/N. I talked to Yasmin and she said it was fine. We’re going on an adolescent adventure. You’ll look back on this weekend and think ‘wow how did I manage a whole weekend without hooking up with my drop-dead gorgeous best friend’” I punched him in the shoulder.

“Excuse me young one! That is the second time in the past two hours! Ugh, the disrespect for elders in today’s society. Honestly its horrendous” He said it in the most ridiculous British grandmother voice and I honestly would’ve loved to have laughed, but he didn’t need that sort of ego boost right now.

“You are two months older than me! Come on let’s get going I don’t want to get to wherever we’re going at like midnight.” I picked up my backpack and a duffel bag full of clothes for the weekend and pushed him through the door.

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” And then we were through the door and in his car. He started the engine and so began the two-hour road trip filled with musical classics such as Gee, Ring Ding Dong and of course Wolf.

“Minho, oh my god this place is amazing! What millionaire cousin are you hiding from me?” I walked through the front door right into the lounge which opened up onto a massive deck with the most beautiful infinity pool I had ever seen. The deck looked out onto the main beach down below. It was decorated in that classic beach house décor that was probably way older than both of us, but it was still gorgeous. The kitchen was small but had a coffee machine. Perfect, I can drag Minho out to watch the sunrise tomorrow morning and he won’t complain.

The garden and downstairs were pretty spacious but upstairs was much smaller. The house was probably designed with an “all day at the beach then entertain all night and only use the bedrooms for sleep” kind of vibe. The first bedroom was obviously for kids, bunk bed, no aircon, barely any shelving space and was basically being used as a surfboard storeroom. Not. An. Option.

Please let there be two more bedrooms, please.

It’s not like I haven’t slept in friends beds before, but Minho was a different story. That smile wasn’t the only thing that drew me towards him on that fateful first day of high school. Can you judge me though? He was an attractive new guy who had just transferred from a school in South Korea. He was an amazing dancer and he could sing. He was any band nerd’s dream. So I may or may not have a massive crush on my best friend...

I pushed back the thought and continued through the house. I had no idea where Mino was but he could manage ten minutes without burning a house down… hopefully.

The next room was just a bathroom and the next a storeroom. Who needs that many beach balls? Then at the end of the hall was the main bedroom. Dammit looks like I’m sleeping on the floor.

“Y/N where are you?” Minho shouted from what sounded like the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m up here,” and a few seconds later he was by your side throwing you a smirk. “Oh, fluff of. I bet Yasmin didn’t agree with this part of the trip.”

“No, no she didn’t. I didn’t think it was important. Besides, I’ll just sleep on the floor it's fine.” He went to go pull a mattress off one of the bunk bed, but I caught the back of his shirt.

“Nope, no way. There is no way I am letting you sleep on the floor.” He began to object “Uh uh, no buts, this one’s not negotiable.” And that was that. He knew by now that there was no arguing with me, not unless he wanted to be left to walk to class alone for a week. So he agreed but sulked about it the whole time we were unpacking the car.

“So, what are going to do for food tonight?” I asked as we sat down on the grass next to the pool.

“I don’t know. We could go down to the restaurant by the beach. The service is terrible but the food and the view make up for it. Unless you want to go down to the store to buy food and actually make dinner?” The house was on top of a hill that overlooked the beach below. The view was amazing. The lagoon mouth was open and although it was getting late there were still children playing in the granny pool beside it.

“You know Minho, I’ve been coming here my whole life and I’ve never noticed this house before. We usually stay right down there near the main beach. The house has been in my family for ages.” The question at hand had drifted from my mind as I sat in awe of the small town’s beauty in the fading sunlight.

“Well, this is actually my elder cousin’s house. He said I could use it whenever I want when I got to college, so last year I got a spare set of keys made and I come here with Jisung and Felix sometimes. But I did ask you about food.” He let out a soft chuckle. I pulled myself out of my trance and looked at him.

“Oh, right. Sorry I completely forgot. It’s just so beautiful here.” We both started out at the ocean again.

“Ok stop distracting me from the question! Are you trying to starve me Y/N?”

“Ok yes. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Um, I don’t really feel like cooking if that’s OK with you? Plus I haven’t seen this place in a while and the beach is calling me.” It really was and I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to get there.

“Ok, that’s fine. We can go now then!’’

We got to the restaurant and ate a casual dinner, nothing too fancy, and then we got some drinks and headed to the rocks on the side of the lagoon mouth. It was pretty cold at night during this time of year so we sat close to keep warm. It wasn’t unusual for us, but the dark and the beach and everything just made it feel weird.

We sat like that, in the dark, arms touching, looking out at the inky water and the reflection of the moon in it, for a while. We didn’t say anything and yet thousands of words were spoken in silence; without as much as a glance at each other.

It was weird to pull ourselves out of that silence, but we did it and were now walking down the, or rather up the hill to get back to the house.

You know Y/N you really are that idiot. The one thing we promised ourselves we wouldn’t do was to fall in love with the best friend. Now, look. You are completely and utterly whipped. No going back now. So what’s the plan? Are you going to confess in some stuttering mess of a sentence in some dark, ding music room or are you going to keep this from him for forever and die an old crazy cat lady with sixteen cats named Gerrald, Richard Parker, Isabelle-

“So Y/N what’s the plan for tomorrow?” He nudged my shoulder lightly and pulled me from my thoughts.

“Um, I don’t know. What do you feel like doing? I mean there’s not much else to do than go to the beach is there?” We got to the top of the hill and stopped to catch our breath.

“Well there’s a waterpark like half an hour away or an amazing waffle place in the next town, but beach sounds good for the first day. The waterpark will be packed anyways.” We started walking again as it started to get colder.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” I thought about it for a second and then added in my best Disney villain voice: “On one condition.” He almost looked nervous for a second but then slapped on a cocky grin before I could even remember what his face had looked like before.

“Name anything; this weekend is for you.” Two could play at that game.

“Ok then, I’m waking you up at six thirty tomorrow to go watch the sunrise.” Now he looked nervous again.

“I mean um well. Come on Y/N we’ve been best friends for years is this really a necessity?”

“Yes, Minho it very much is and I will drag you down this hill tomorrow morning if I have to. Thank you for a nice evening but I will now shower and then retire to the floor.” I let out a laugh and then started walking up the stairs.

“You know you’ll have to deal with me the minute you get out the shower right.” He laughed with me as he started following me up the stairs.

“Yes Minho, I do in fact realise that, but the fact that I have to see you does not mean I have to listen to you complain about a six thirty wake up call. Honestly, it’s not that bad you lazy ass.” I closed the bathroom door and locked it behind me. I wasn’t trying to be mean; I was just trying to have fun, but I’m bad at working out the difference so…

It was midnight and the floor was cold.

Why he thought that coming to the beach in the middle of autumn was a good idea, I might never know.

At least we haven’t said anything stupid in at least an hour Y/N.

I’ve been asleep!

Yes but we can say stupid things in our sleep Y/N.

Ok no, not listening to you anymore. Goodnight.

It was now half past one. The floor was still cold.

Unless we plan on getting a cold Y/N, we have one option.

What can a cold do to me, come on?

It can turn into a chest infection and then a lung infection and then wow look Y/N can’t play the flute anymore and oh look again we’ve been kicked out the orchestra.

Shut up.

One option Y/N, one option…

I went to go shake Minho awake. Giving in to the voice in my head was something I was trying to get better at but it still didn’t work that well… most of the time.

“Come on Minho please wake up!” He was usually a light sleeper, but he was probably doing this just to spit me. “Lee Minho I know you’re awake.” I waited a minute and then gave in to his plan that I knew was most definitely churning in that stupid, amazing brain of his. “Fine, ok, the floor is cold. Please, can I sleep with you?” He smirked but kept his eyes closed. “Not like that you pervert!”

He stirred, opened his eyes and then sat up and said: “Ya sure. I knew you’d give in eventually. No one can resist this face.” He smirked at me again and batted his eyelashes.

“Oh, would you shut up and move over.” I wanted it to come out a bit sterner, but I ended up laughing as he pouted at me and scooted so he wasn’t hogging the entire bed to himself. I turned to look at him and, in the most loving tone I could muster for one am, said: “Goodnight idiot.”

“Goodnight my bestest most loving friend forever.” We both burst out laughing (even though it was a pretty terrible joke) and fell asleep just like that, heads nearly touching but not. Toes tangled by instinct to keep warm. My heart wouldn’t calm down. I thought I might have a heart attack in my sleep. To anyone else (including me) it would have looked romantic. I secretly hoped Minho thought so too.

My internal clock woke me up at six. I had gotten used to waking up to practice and then going straight to lectures and then going straight back to practice.

I was about to sit up when I noticed it. Minho’s arm slung over my waist and his head ever so slightly snuggled into my side. I got such a shock when I saw it that I jolted. He started to wake up and I started to panic.

Oh we’ve really done it now haven’t we Y/N.

You’re not helping!

Hwta are we going to do about this Y/N.

I don’t know! You’re meant to be the logical one.

I’m just a voice in your head. How am I meant to be logical Y/N?

You’re the one always shouting at me!

No, we’re always the ones shouting at us.

What the hell is that supposed to mean!

To late Y/N

“Mm Y/N?” Oh god.

We spent the day at the beach, eating chips and drinking whatever was cheapest. We messed around in the water and read on the sand, but something was always a bit off.

“I’m sorry about this morning Y/N. I don’t know what happened.” We were walking down to a different beach to go watch the sunset. I had compromised with Minho after this morning’s antics.

“It’s fine Minho, it was cold. Body heat you know?” I let out a nervous laugh and looked over at him. It was fairly light out, as the sun was just starting to disappear under the horizon. I didn’t know if it was a trick of the early morning sun or if that was actually a blush I saw dusted on his cheeks. “Minho seriously, we’re friends it doesn’t matter. Come on stop looking so embarrassed. If anything it should be me blushing I mean I was the one-”

“I am not blushing!” He whipped his head towards me and glared.

“Ok sure mister ladies man.” It was like a whole different person. Minho was never like this. He was always the loud cocky one at the college parties, flirting with all the girls and then passing out on my couch after one to many jager bombs.

Today he was like a teenage boy going through puberty who had a crush on his older sister’s best friend.

He likes us back Y/N

Not with you in my head he doesn’t.

Stop denying that you wouldn’t be a functioning human without me Y/N.

Fuck off I’m trying to enjoy the sunset!

Don’t screw it up Y/N.

We both froze the minute we got out the dune forest and onto the sand.

“Omg Y/N! It’s beautiful.” He was right. The sun was halfway under the horizon and had turned the few clouds in the sky the most breathtaking shade of pink.

“Ok who are you and what have you done with my best friend.” It was both weird and strangely endearing to see Minho so excited about a sunrise.

“What’s so wrong with a guy liking the sky.” I chuckled.

You’re whipped Y/N.

Since when did you use stan language?

Since when did we start using stan language Y/N?

Oh, shut up!

“There’s nothing wrong with a guy liking the sky. I just never pinned you for a sky guy.”

“Y/N I am shocked, I am such a sky guy.”

“Ok, no more sky guying. Come on let’s sit down” We both laughed together and as we sat laughing on the sand I realised that this had been the most constantly happy I had been all year.

Don’t screw it up Y/N

“Oh, would you shut up!” I immediately clasped my hand over my mouth. Minho looked at me with a look that was somewhere between completely shocked and hurt. “Minho I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to say it out loud. Oh, wait no that’s not what I meant. Um… I’m sorry I was just. I um, I-”

I told you not to screw it up Y/N

I could feel tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes. Minho was still looking at me with that face. I couldn’t speak.

Why now! It was going well! You ruin everything.

Not me, us. It’s not my voice Y/N

I broke down. I was so sick of this stupid voice in my head and now look what it had done. Why couldn’t I just turn it off? Why did it have to-

I felt arms wrapping around me and pulling me into someone’s chest.

“Shh, it’s ok Y/N. You’re ok.” I didn’t understand why he was always so selfless. Behind that stupid ego of his, he was just my best friend.

I don’t know how long we sat on the beach like that. The sun ha set and it was dark outside by the time I lifted my head from his chest and tried to speak but he stopped me.

“Before you make some bullshit excuse and say you’re fine, you’re not and you are going to tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours because I am tired of seeing the person I love suffer.”

See look it’s-

“Please just be quiet,” I whispered into Minho’s chest once again.

“Y/N please tell me what’s going on. You’re really starting to scare me.” I looked back up at him and the worry in his eyes had my heart crumbling into dust.

“I just- I don’t know Minho. I just can’t get it to be quiet and it ruins everything.” He looked scared. I hated it, but I didn’t know how to explain it.

“What won’t be quite Y/N?” I pointed to my head. Realization washed over his face, then understanding and lastly sadness.

“What does it say” It was barely a whisper. I shook my head. I didn’t want to say it aloud. It made it seem too real. It already at too much power over me, it didn’t need this.

“Please, can we just go home Minho? I’m fine. I dealt with this since like Grade 8 and I’ll deal with it some more. Just please can we go home.” I hated sounding this needy, but I didn’t want to talk about this now or ever. It was something I dealt with by myself or not at all. Minho did not need to be dragged into this.

“Y/N I can’t just-”

“Yes you can Minho and you will. We’re not talking about this. Not in the dark on a beach. Maybe somewhere else and in the far future but please, please can we just go home.” He slumped and gave in. He stood up and bent is legs and gestured with his head as if to say hurry up and get on. I’d didn’t I just looked at him, confused.

“What? Come on I have to be a good friend in some way tonight. Get on.” And so I did. It was weird but not in a bad way. I felt like a kid. It was…nice?

He somehow carried me all the way home, even up that godforsaken hill. We got inside the house, after fumbling with the keys and giggling for a good five minutes, but he didn’t stop there. He ran through the lounge, me still on his back, and opened the sliding door. He headed towards the pool.

“Minho what are you doing!” He liked back at me and smirked. He put me down and I made to run but he caught the belt loops on my shorts. “Minho seriously what are you- ah!” He had picked me up in his arms and was carrying me towards the pool. “Lee Minho I swear on my flute’s well being if you dare!” He dangled me over the pool.

“Are you going to talk yet?” I didn’t say anything. I just glared at him and in return, he loosened his grip on me.

“Minho stop!” I clung on to him.

“Talk or swim Y/N, the choice is yours.” He shook me as if he was trying to emphasise his point.

“Minho, you can’t be serious!” He didn’t look at me only at the pool which was dangerously close to my legs. I realised how he was holding me and a blush crawled up my cheeks.

Just admit it to him already Y/N.

Not now!

He knows about me now; no point in hiding it Y/N.

Oh, shut up.

“I am being dead serious Y/N. Talk or swim!” I tried to splutter out anything to try to change my mind but all that came out was an incoherent babble.

“You chose…wrong!” And with that, he threw me in the pool. The perfectly heated water enveloped me as I felt all my clothes get wet. Thank God for beach holidays where the taking off your costume isn’t an option. I took off my wet top and pants and threw them on the side of the pool.

I came up to take a breath and saw Minho take off his shirt and bolt towards the pool. He canon-balled into the pool; nearly landing on me in the process. He disappeared in the inky dark of the water, none of the pool lights were on, I mean we didn’t exactly plan on using the pool other than to wash off the sand.

“Minho, where did you go?” I couldn’t tell if my laugh was out of nervousness or joy. It was so weird. Maybe half an hour ago I was sobbing into his chest trying to keep this stupid thing out my head and now here we were, just stupid kids again. The same Minho who would contemplate the art teachers seeming immortality is the same Minho who had gathered me in his arms and just been there. The same Minho who convinced me to flirt with the lunch lady was the same Minho-

“Ahhh!” He had come up underneath me, grabbed my legs and launched me in the air. “What the hell was that for!?” I tried to stare him down but he just laughed.

“Because I think you needed to smile.” He grinned at me, so I splashed him. He splashed back. And so began a five-minute wrestling match. I won, but I think he would have disagreed.

“Ok, ok,” He puffed out, he looked out of breath, “Now tell me what was going on with you back at the beach.” He had swum right up close to me.

“Minho do we have to talk about this right now? Can’t we just be two friends in a pool on a spur of the moment holiday?” His face contorted.

Ughhhhhh, what have I said this time.

“Is that all I am to you Y/N, a friend?” I had no idea what he was asking. Was he implying something? Or was he just being Minho?

“I don’t know what you mean Minho.”

“I mean what I said. Is that all I am to you and am I really that bad at trying to show you that I might want more?” Ok, so he was impling something. Oh my god, he was implying something.

“WH-what?” I spluttered out.

“I like you OK Y/N? And I hate seeing you like this; beating yourself down when you’re the most talented, most amazing, most beautiful human I know!”

“Minho, I, um, I- I just don’t know what. Oh screw it!” It was now or never. I knew I’d never get a chanc like that again so I just, kissed him. And it felt freaking amazing.

Let’s just say Mrs Walsh was very surprised at how well I played at the concert.

#minho #lee minho #skz #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz minho #stray kids minho #stray kids scenarios

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porscheczar110 · 5 years ago

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Best Friends Chapter 10

Title: Challenges

Summary: Rayla and Callum are nearing the end of their journey. With their new found love for one another, they tackle some questions that will follow them wherever they go.

Read on Ao3 here.

---

When Callum woke the next morning, he almost thought the day before had been but a pleasant dream. There was no way that Rayla could love him. Actually love him in the way that he loved her. But when he looked down to find her snuggled against him, hand on his chest and softly snoring, he knew it was true. This girl, this elf, had sacrificed everything to keep him safe and fight for a chance of peace. But she still fell for him, and him for her.

It was a star-crossed match, he knew. Every playwright and romance author would say what they had was destined to fail tragically. But, the words of his father lived on, “your destiny is not yet written, Callum, you alone can choose”. And Callum knew. He knew that he would choose Rayla. Every. Single. Time.

He began pulling his fingers through her silvery white hair, entranced by its softness. With each stroke, he moved closer to the base of her horns until he was gently rubbing them. They were just as he remembered them, impossibly smooth to the touch with intricate patterns that he could make out with his thumb. Before meeting Rayla, Callum had thought horns were strange. Of course, he’d never even seen an elf before her, but his human history teachers had always said that horns were a demonizing feature that made elves the bloodthirsty monsters that they were.

Callum knew this was wrong now. Rayla’s horns were one of the things he found most attractive about her. It was something about how they were so separate, yet so part of her all at the same time.

He brought his free hand from her waist up to the base of her other horn and began rubbing there as well. A soft sigh escaped Rayla’s lips as she nuzzled closer into his chest. Finally, one of her eyes slowly cracked open, revealing the brilliant violet underneath.

“What’cha doin’ dummy?” Rayla’s accent was particularly thick in the mornings. Callum discovered long ago that, while she usually woke up before him, she was decidedly NOT a morning person.

“Oh, I’m just rubbing your horns…I hope that’s…ok?” Callum was a little nervous. They still had not discussed elven dating customs, so he could have been breaking a million rules in this moment.

“Mmmmm, its mor’ than ok. You jus’ keep doin’ that.” She pushed her head a little more deeply into his rubbing. It was obvious that she was enjoying this.

“So this feels good for you, then?” Callum smiled playfully. He was happy that he could make her feel good. Rayla wasn’t the most communicative person when it came to how she felt.

“Aye. It does. It’s something that elven mates do for each other. It’s an extremely intimate gesture. The only people that ever touch an elf's horn is yourself, your parents, and your mate. It’s seen as extremely rude to touch another’s horns, otherwise.” Rayla was more awake now. She was ready to share her culture and worries with Callum.

Callum’s face turned a bright pink as he stopped rubbing her horns.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry. I rubbed and kissed your horns before we had the conversation from last night, didn’t I? I hope I didn’t offend you.”

Rayla closed her eyes and let out a little laugh. She took one of her hands from her lap and reached to her horns. She grabbed Callum’s hand and urged him to start rubbing again. Tentatively, he did.

“It’s not like you knew, Callum. I haven’t been particularly good about telling you how this all works for us. Plus, I’ve loved you for awhile. I just didn’t realize it until yesterday. I’m really sorry about that, by the way, you seem like you’ve been sure for awhile now?”

Callum had resumed the rubbing motion on the base of Rayla’s horns while he pondered the question. Meanwhile, Rayla’s eyes had shut again as she began to hum softly. She could have stayed like this the whole day if they didn’t have a mission they needed to finish.

“I am not sure I consciously realized it until after the village. But, yeah, looking back, it has probably been since the incident with the Dragon. I was so worried you wouldn’t come back that I went after you, against my better judgement. I had never done that for anyone but Ez before.”

Rayla smiled, opening her eyes again. It was a complicated memory, for sure. She still wasn’t pleased that he had used dark magic. But at the same time, she knew she would not have done any better in the same circumstances. She would have done anything to save him.

Rayla sat up and stretched her arms. Then, she took Callum’s hands in hers, “I think we fell for each other at the exact same time. After you wouldn’t wake up from your illness, I thought that I had lost you. I couldn’t stand to think of a world without you.”

“I love you Rayla.” Callum spoke softly.

Rayla’s insides felt like they were melting from the warmth that was building in the pit of her stomach. She hoped the feeling would never go away.

“I love you too, Callum.” She paused a little before continuing, “now, we should probably get going, we still have to return Zym, after all!”

——

They walked that afternoon in mostly silence. Both trying to determine how to bring up the more delicate topics that they wanted to discuss.

It was Rayla who finally broke the silence.

“Callum, how do you think humans and elves will…react to us? I can’t imagine that it will be positive…”

“Probably not. Humans are still bitter, a thousand years later about being kicked out of Xadia. They especially won’t like the thought of one of their princes being with a Moonshadow elf.” It came out a little more matter-of-fact than Callum had intended. But he had determined as soon as he professed his love that he wouldn’t sugar coat the struggles their relationship would endure.

Rayla’s face sagged a little as she replied, “I suppose that makes sense. It won’t be much better on the Xadian side, either. Elves have rather low opinions on the human race in general. You probably noticed that even Lujanne didn’t think that it was possible for you to be anything more than ‘just a human’.” Rayla was a little angry now and her ears were starting to flush.

“It’s so dumb! Of course our people hate each other. The only interaction any of them have ever had with the other has been in the context of war. Look at us, we fell in love in TWO months. Which is crazy considering I was on my way to murder your family in cold blood. UGH, everything we have been taught about each other is just so wrong.”

Callum could tell she was getting worked up now. It didn’t happen often, but angry Rayla was definitely not someone to be trifled with. He reached out and lightly grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him. She tensed at the contact at first, but immediately relaxed into his touch. Rather than just staring at him, she drew him into a hug.

“I’m sorry Callum, it’s just a lot. I’m just...afraid that people will try and drive us apart any chance that they get,” she whimpered out.

“They will, Rayla. At every chance they get. But listen to me, we will be stronger than them, ok? When they come at us with hate, we will come at them ten times stronger with love. That’s the only way we can change the world, right? With love.”

Callum felt a slight jab in his right side and then a voice in his ear. “Callum, you are such a sappy prince.”

“But I’m your sappy prince.” Callum smiled as Rayla released him.

“That you are, dummy.” She grabbed his hand so they could continue walking. “So, we will fight for each other, no matter what?”

“Yes, no matter what. Just like we’ve done from the very beginning.” It was Callum’s turn to be brave. He gently pulled Rayla in for a drawn out kiss. She always tasted of moon berries.

—-

The rest of the day was filled with talk about potential futures and discussions centered around their families and dating customs.

Callum learned that moon shadow elves were a lot more conservative when it came to dating than humans were. Apparently, once a moon elf fell in love, it was almost impossible for them to stop loving that individual, even in the rare case of a divorce. It made sense then, why Rayla was so cautious about being in love. She would never be able to stop. That warmed Callum’s heart almost to the point of tears. He promised himself that he too, would never stop loving her.

Then, Rayla had discussed all the rituals and customs that elves went through to become “united”. She assured Callum that none of them mattered because he was a human. But he had protested, saying that he would go through each and every one of them. That warmed Rayla’s heart because he cared so much about respecting her culture.

It was Rayla’s turn to learn next. Callum told her about “normal” human customs and “royal” customs in regards to dating. When he told her about how humans arranged marriages to consolidate power, she almost lost it. How could they believe that would ever lead to happiness?! Before she could, Callum had rested his hand on her cheek and told her she didn’t have to worry. He would always be hers and hers alone.

By nightfall, both of their worries had melted off them as if they had never existed in the first place. They were laughing and giggling in each other’s arms and oh so in love. So, it made sense that they didn’t notice that they were no longer alone until Zym squawked in alarm. Callum felt a small prick in his side. When he looked down, there was a small glowing bug flying away into the night sky. Moments later, the world went dark.

Rayla, on the other hand, managed to dodge whatever creature that had knocked Callum out. She glanced at her human, lying limp on the ground before her. The warmth in her heart was instantly placed by a red-hot anger. Whoever had done this would pay.

“Show yourself!” Rayla shouted, her eyes stinging with rage.

A sky wing elf flew down and began to speak, “Rayla of the moon shadow, I am….”. Rayla didn’t let him finish. Just as soon as his feet had hit the ground, Rayla had drawn her swords, sprinted over to his landing position, and placed the swords to his neck. The sky elf shuddered.

“What did you do to my Callum? Is he dead? He better not be dead…” Her voice was seething with rage. She had just found Callum. She had just found the person that she wanted to love for the rest of her days. And now, now he could be dead.

“Oh, no no no. He’s not dead. We are not killers like you lot. He is simply asleep, just like you will be in a few moments.” The sky elf was obviously uncomfortable with the swords pressed against his throat. But, Rayla had not noticed the magical bug come back and land on her neck before it was too late. She felt a soft pinch, and before she knew it, the world went black.

#rayllum #callum x rayla #tdp #tdp rayla #rayla #tdp callum #the dragon prince #callum #rayla x callum

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purplesurveys · 6 years ago

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378

For a change. I love Internet people for never running out of survey ideas.

Just say what you think of (doesn't have to be one-word answers) when I mention these. Quick, simple, just for fun. Curtain: I remember a story JM told us of when he nearly burned his house down when he was younger - he was flying paper airplanes but not without lighting the tips on fire. One of the planes landed on the curtain and I think it burned that particular room pretty bad or something. Door: I have a door to my right at the moment. It’s brown and I know my dog is waiting outside because I can hear his paws. Shoe: We went shoe hunting yesterday for Joacky, because he wanted a pair of the Nike Cortez. It’s widely popular in the PH right now so even though we visited like 7 shoe stores yesterday, we weren’t able to find one in the color that he likes. Pants: I finally got a pair of mom jeans yesterday and I can’t wait to wear it for school. I’m tired of wearing the same bottoms. Wig: I attended a workshop a few months ago where the speaker disclosed that she has leukemia, and she took off the wig she had been wearing the whole time to show us her head. I also remember the RuPaul Stans part of Twitter because they say ‘wig’ all the time...

Makeup: Kate made me her subject last Thursday and she played with my face and put makeup on it. Ended up feeling really pretty because she did a pretty awesome job. Instagram: I snubbed Instagram for the longest time but thought that a ‘one-pic-for-every-day-of-the-year’ dump account wouldn’t hurt, so I made one of those for 2019. My photography skills are absolutely nowhere to be found, and my gallery is super haphazard, but I really want to make an effort to store memories this year. YouTube: Hmm first thing I thought of was PewDiePie. I subscribed to the dude when he had like 60,000 subscribers eight years ago and only had a couple of Amnesia montages up. I always feel like a proud momma/early bird whenever I remember how far and how big he’s gotten since. Life: Exhaustion, mainly. It’s gonna start snowballing by next year when I graduate. It’ll be nonstop from there - facing the prospect of coming out to my parents, graduating, getting a job, getting my first credit card, moving out, paying bills...it’s all very exhausting, exhilarating, exciting, and overwhelming to think about. Chili: Gabie and I had Japanese for early dinner last week, and I was a little weirded out by the restaurant because each seat had a red chili pepper on the placemat? I’m talking every damn seat in the place??? Idk if it’s some sort of good luck charm for the owners but it made things very slightly unsettling hahaha. Cherry: There was a WWE Diva named Cherry like ten years ago who had the gimmick of a 50′s chick, I think...I was never quite sure what her character was supposed to be, but she had roller-skates every time she went to the ring and would sometimes wear outfits with polka dots so I thought she was pretty cute. Neil: Armstrong. Haha I was going through Reddit awhile ago when I saw a video of Buzz Aldrin punch a dude who went up to him and said that the moon landing was a hoax. Not exactly Neil Armstrong but still a good story. Drive: I like watching car chases. It’s almost...therapeutic when the suspect crashes or loses control of his car and finally gets caught. Murder: I never got into How To Get Away With Murder. It’s too fast-paced for my life. I feel like I’m the only person who doesn’t understand legal concepts because so many people are able to catch up with this show even if Viola Davis speaks a thousand words a minute and they’re all really deep words??? Idk HAHAHA. I watched like two episodes and felt super dumb after. Ice cream: OMG I hate a la mode desserts. I’d eat anything, but I wouldn’t eat two separate things with different textures. Get your ice cream away from my brownie. Water: I can’t wait to go back to the beach. Hard: Hammer? It was the first image to pop up in my head. Anne: Harry Styles’ mom is named Anne hahaha the Directioner in me jumped out, sorry not sorry. Cow: There’s this video that went viral a few months ago of a girl who was playing the accordion; all of a sudden this adorable herd of like 15 cows come running up to her and just intently watch the kid. Wholesome af. Frog: Frog legs are served in some Philippine provinces. Tastes like chicken. Cheese: My lactose intolerant ass will grate half a block of cheese (exaggeration, but you get the point) for my spaghetti. That’s the only way to enjoy pasta. Bowl: Can’t really think of anything except that bowl cuts look so cute on babies hahaha. Television: Is something I never use nowadays unless I’m staying over at a hotel. Other than that, I cannot tell you the last time I held a TV remote control to change the channel or something. Skull: There’s an episode of Friends where Phoebe brings home a skull and nonchalantly sets it on the table where Monica, Rachel, and Chandler were hanging out. Chandler goes, “Pheebs...skull?” Phoebe says, “Yeah, it’s my mom’s,” and Rachel shrieks until Phoebe clarifies that her mom owned the skull, and that the skull wasn’t of her mom. Underrated segment. Rachel’s mini-meltdown was hilarious. Seasons: I had to watch Rent for film class several months ago. Terrible movie. Cemented my dislike for musicals. This is what I remembered because afaik this is the musical that has the minutes song. Language: I can speak two and can understand some archaic/modern Spanish because they conquered us for 300 years and subsequently ruined my country. Trump: McDonald’s. An international embarrassment. Chocolate: We found this AMAZING Chocnut spread at the mall yesterday. I had my initial doubts - I thought it was gonna taste like a cheap Nutella rip-off. But it tastes exactly like Chocnut, just in the most perfect spread-y form. I plan to finish the entire jar just with a spoon. Stove: I’m terribly afraid of using any and every kitchen equipment because I have a big fear of setting the house on fire. I only ever use the stove when I’m deathly hungry and I have to make something by myself. Toy: My family recently went to a kid’s birthday party that had giveaway bags with toys inside, but seeing as we’re all teenagers now who had no use for it, it was earning dust in the house. Now, the Philippines is abound with street children so when we went out yesterday, my mom gave the bag to a couple of kids who were knocking on our car. I know I’m not supposed to romanticize the situation, but they had the biggest smiles when they realized what they got and I saw them playing merrily at the side of the street and even invited some other kids to join in. Again, not glamorizing it - I’m just happy they were happy. Video: I could never run out of things to watch on YouTube. It’s one of my favorite websites, especially when bouts of depression have to happen. Kiss: It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, IT WAS ONLY A KISS. Glass: The glass section of department stores always creeped me out. One wrong move and you can knock a whole shelf down, and the ‘You break it you pay for it’ signs all over the area don’t help at all. Light: Light and queen come together in this survey and all I remember is Lightning McQueen. Queen: ^ Moon: Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Moon river, wider than a mile, I’m crossing you in style some day. Blue: My organization’s color is blue, so I have a soft spot for blue. Cream: I like soups that are creamy. I say this because my sister had ramen yesterday and it was so oily and salty and fatty and creamy and ugh I loved it. Dead: The Misfits. They’re more horror than death, but still. Purple: My great-grandma loved the color purple and I remember when her house used to be peppered in purple stuff. All her dresses were purple. I’m fairly sure it was the reason why it was my favorite color as a kid. Lace: Underwear, hahaha. Cardboard: Gabie was munching on sunflower seeds when I picked her up last week. I’ve never tried those, so I asked for some and I said it tasted like cardboard. I’ve never eaten cardboard but I would imagine that that’s what it tastes like. Elephant: Majestic. Deserves to be saved and properly cared for. Harry: One of my fave members of the royal family. He’s so precious. Leather: Is bad. Paisley: Isn’t there a country singer with this name? Italy: Pasta and stuff. Joey Tribbiani. Immature: I saw the gun girl Kaitlin-something on Twitter because she got viral again for a dumb-ass tweet she made. She posted pics of herself in the snow and tweeted “Look at all this global warming,” like seriously America??? Wtf do they teach y’all in your schools?????? Crime: Raisins in cookies. Angel: I had a friend named Angel - talked about her a lot in old surveys. She migrated to Canada when we were 12 and I haven’t seen her since. We do follow each other on Twitter but all she tweets about is K-pop so I had to put her on mute. Great memories with her. Boil: When I read this tweet aloud in my head, what I did think of was Charles Boyle from B99. Key: Key lime pie. Never tried it, but I’m always down to try anything. Sacrifice: The Catholic schoolgirl in me remembers the crucifixion because textbooks and teachers would overuse the phrase, “Jesus sacrificed his life for our sins” or “God sacrificed his son to save the world,” and all those cheesy lines. It’s as though the Bible’s favorite word is ‘sacrifice.’ Larry: Punk and AJ’s dog is named Larry Talbot. Dog: ^ Psychology: I took one psych elective last semester, but the prof was average at best so it didn’t really win over the course as a whole to me. Psychology was one of my ‘what-if’ courses so at the start, I was excited about taking it - but the class that I had was just so boring and the prof gave tests that were way too hard for otherwise fairly easy topics, so I quickly ran out of enthusiasm for the class. Rag: I hate touching rags. Especially wet ones UGH. Sun: Hate it, unless I’m at the beach. Lips: My friends dragged me to the makeup section of the department store last week and there were rows upon rows of lipstick testers. As someone who’s never purposely browsed for makeup, I ended up swatching like 20 shades on my wrist and looked like a five year old who doodled all over her whole left arm. Cage: The UFC ring, because it looks like a cage. Alarm: I had/have several alarms set on my phone throughout today to tell me to start working on various deliverables. For example, I had an 8 AM alarm to work on my J 196 paper; then from 8:30 AM I had an alarm to compose letters that I needed to write as my org’s secretary; then at around 10 AM, my alarm was for finishing up my readings for Kas 154 (short for kasaysayan, which means history). Official: I have a batchmate from high school who just got engaged...she was honestly one of the weirder ones back then so as much as I didn’t want to judge, it was hard to take it seriously at first, but it’s whatevs. I have no business in her life and I’m happy she’s happy. King: I finished my history readings this morning and there were so many mentions of kings. Lost: That show. The general consensus is that they ended the show crappily, but other than that I know nothing about it. Dating: There was once a dude who joined a dating show. Ended up being a serial killer. I forgot his name though. Balm: I was at a Korean store yesterday and saw an array of lip balms and glosses. I was never much of a makeup girl but the collection they had was just so cute, it made me think if I should start investing in makeup as well hah. Tomato: Ketchup is my second least favorite condiment after mustard. Game: Hmmm I downloaded a bunch of new game apps on my phone because I recently realized that I’m so boring??? and I only have social media on my phone??? I got ten new apps to make my phone more alive haha. Lotion: Is slimy, but smells nice and makes my skin smooth and look better. I got two hand creams for Christmas last year and it was then that I knew I was getting older because I was genuinely excited to try them both out. Expensive: Everything is. Powder: Reminds me of babies. The smell calms me down so well. Cross: I was shopping for clip-on earrings yesterday and there were several designs with crosses on them, which just reminded me of Christianity and it kinda peeved me for like 3 minutes lol. History: My favorite subject. I’ve never been so excited to be dumped on with such a thick stack of readings until this semester. Sex: Haven’t had it in a bit, too busy. Rainbow: We watched a film called Rainbow’s Sunset, which was really promising because it told a story about two men, both very old, and are lovers. In a traditional, conservative, poisonously Catholic country such as the PH, it’s a very bold move to produce a feature film that tackled such a horrible, taboo, horrifying thing (please note the sarcasm/mockery). We didn’t escape the guffaws and the loud ew’s whenever the two leads would kiss, which was sad.

Anyway that’s not my point and what I really want to say is that the film was ultimately terrible, it was terribly-executed and it portrayed gay men in such a cheesy manner which in the long run, probably contributes to the continuing negative image of LGBT people in the Philippines. Gab, the bigger film buff between the two of us, felt so offended by how bad the movie turned out to be lol. Bay: Bayley, from WWE. She was a huge star like 3 years ago, but I think the bookers ultimately fucked her character up and now she’s stale. I feel so bad. Seth: Seth Rollins, also from WWE. Also very attractive. Pepper: I had okonomiyaki for lunch yesterday and there was like a thicker chunk of pepper that made it to my plate. Didn’t particularly enjoy that bite. Necrophile: Katie Vick. Google it to believe it. Wrestling is fucking dumb. Gravel: Funnily enough I do have a memory for gravel. Akeelah and the Bee was one of my favorite movies growing up; I watched it so many times that I had chunks of dialogue memorized at one point. One of the first scenes had Akeelah joining her school’s spelling bee, and one of the kids spelled grovel as g-r-a-v-e-l. He couldn’t understand why he got it wrong so the judge had to tell him that the word ‘grovel’ actually exists and what it means. Deep: I had a mental picture of the ocean when I read this word, so there’s that. Stephen: Hawking. Bucket: Chum Bucket. Hahaha Spongebob forever. England: Rugby? Grown: I always use the term ‘grown-ass’ haha. Spell: Spelling was one of my favorite activities in grade school and I would always score the highest in spelling exams. Kind of led me to my favorite job of proofreading/copyediting, really. Bark: My dog barked at nothing for five whole minutes a couple of days ago and it was hilarious. I shot two minutes of it. Long: Trees? Fan: Pamaypay, or hand fans in English.

Australia: First things that came to mind were the Sydney Opera House and Vegemite. Iron: Gabie’s nose bled last week. It wouldn’t stop flowing out of her nostrils and it smelled like rust for a good 15 minutes while she was trying to wash all the blood off, so it didn’t exactly help my case as someone who’s squeamish to death at the sight of blood. Melt: Chocolate. Beanie: Too warm for this country’s climate. Wax: Candles. Vigils. Burning your finger. Staying up all night to pray. Catholic school. Disease: Zombies. Resident Evil. Cannibal: The band Cannibal Corpse. Tried to get into them because Punk listened to them but it was too heavy for me. Flight: Airplanes, flights, vacations, away from everyone, nothing to worry about, good food, fighting with my siblings for the window seats. Porn: People be having weird fetishes sometimes. The thumbnails I see on websites...some of y’all crazy. Pot: I thought about how college life is so crazy. People would sell brownies or cookies with weed in them IN SCHOOL, meanwhile I still don’t even know if weed and pot are the same or if they’re two different things ohmygod HAHAHAHA I’m so sheltered wow I’m hopeless?????? Style: Taylor Swift and that subtle shade to Harry. People were shookened five years ago. Floss: Pork floss is really good. Star: There was a local celebrity who recently tweeted a pic, supposedly of a tiny tiny star that was beside the moon at like 5 AM, and she was asking what it was. Someone replied that it was Venus and explained what she just saw for her. Super cool. Nate: I don’t know anyone named Nate. I DID, however, remember the Naked Brothers Band. The older brother is named Nat, so it’s close enough. Soft: Pillows are soft. Orange: Hayley Williams’ hair 11 years ago. Witch: Philippine superstitions and how crazy and obsessive Filipinos can get. My mom, one of the most rational, no-nonsense people I know, scolds me every time I mock witchcraft or what we call ‘kulam’ cos she believes something will happen to me if I do. I’m all for honoring our mythology and traditions but sheesh, not to the obsessive extent. Mound: Ants. Root: Gabie used to watch this show where she shipped two girls named Root and Shaw. Oil: Massages. Hot: Deserts. Disc: Childhood, blowing on it to make it work, double-sided discs for longer movies, if a disc had scratches expect it to die soon. Soil: Plants. Planting trees. Muddy. Ugly: That scene in Spongebo where Patrick tells the story of the ugly barnacle. “Once there was an ugly barnacle. He was so ugly that everyone died. The end,” which didn’t help Spongebob who at the time was feeling super ugly hahahahaha. Sugar: Maroon 5. Also, my grandma used one particular jar for sugar throughout my entire childhood. It’s plastic, it’s clear, and it came with a red-orange lid. I’d often eat sugar on its own so I saw that jar quite a bit and it gives me a sense of nostalgia. I’m not so sure if that’s still the jar being used in the old house. Bone: Ribs :( Been craving for some. Sigh: Air??? I don’t know. Throne: Game of Thrones. I had to watch a 26-minute documentary of a GoT production for my broadcast management class. It’s insanely hard. So much respect to everyone involved in its prod. Calendar: I’m secretary for my org, which means that I always have to update everyone about our calendar of events. Carpet: Fancy. Flesh: The Walking Dead. Cement: Dangerous. Vow: The movie with Rachel McAdams and Channing Tatum. One of my guiltier pleasures. Sweet: Desserts. And now I’m hungry.

#survey #surveys #lengthy but a goodie

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its-love-u-asshole · 6 years ago

Text

Without a Doubt [fic]

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei/Kuroo Tetsurou

Summary: Only they would get lost on the way to their own wedding.

Rating: T

Tags: fluff, established relationship

Note: I managed to finish one more thing for kurotsuki week! I was just in the mood for pointless fluffy love and honestly that's what kurotsuki deserves so I hope you all enjoy this! Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over! I also wanna thank @kirinokisu for always supporting me and encouraging me to finish wips, I wouldn’t get anything done without her ; ;

AO3

Only they would get lost on the way to their own wedding.

It's not something which surprises Tsukishima truthfully. He's less frustrated by it than he would've thought two hours prior, when they were rushing and bickering and fielding calls from annoying relatives. Normally, when on such a big time crunch, Tsukishima would be antsy, distressed, the anxiety bubbling up through his blood and limbs.

But...not today. Not on the most important day.

Tsukishima watches with a calm patience as Kuroo shuts the car door quickly from about ten feet away, the rain pouring down so heavily the droplets look more like sheets. Maybe they are. After all, it is winter, and Tsukishima smiles fondly at the realization. Perhaps this is the universe's revenge for their unconventional ways. 'Should've planned a June wedding,' it probably screams with thunder and the harsh slap of raindrops.

The weather has no mercy on Kuroo's old high school joggers, or that horrible sweater Tsukishima has told him to throw out for years now. He wouldn't go back and change the date though.

Tsukishima hates the summertime, it's too hot and muggy, his skin hates it and his mind hates it even more. He wants to be happy on his wedding day. In fact, he considers it to be essential. When he'd told Kuroo that all those months ago, the raven had been in complete agreement, that dopey smile on his face...

"Whatever you want stardust."

But Kuroo could be such a fool. Recalling the memory, Tsukishima shakes his head. He probably could've asked him to hike up Mount Everest and he would've, or trekked to hell itself. But doesn't Kuroo know that smile of his, all caring and solely for him, made Tsukishima just as weak?

It’s the one he wears even now, when they're an hour away from the venue, stuck with less than a quarter tank of gas in their rental, and standing under an old church awning to shield themselves. The cracks in the stone let some water in, hitting Tsukishima's head.

It should be miserable for both of them.

So why do you look so happy right now?

Even as Tsukishima thinks it, he can't stop smiling as Kuroo approaches him, soaked magazine failing to cover the top of his head. He knows the answer. It's the same for him.

When Kuroo throws the magazine to the ground with a wet slap, Tsukishima snorts, because shit, it's the wedding catalogue Terushima had poured over, circling all kinds of unnecessary decorations and adornments. It ends up being strangely funny, how the thought of them possibly missing said wedding, with all those fancy arrangements and desserts, doesn't make him stressed in the slightest. Their clothes are drenched, it's cold, and they're probably making Terushima and Bokuto (self-proclaimed wedding planners) have strokes, but...

"We're getting married today," Kuroo all but sighs, adoring, despite his messy bangs and wet shoes. The squish of socks is audible regardless of the rumbling in the sky. Kuroo's biggest pet peeve is wet socks, but he looks like he's on cloud nine, and Tsukishima can't blame him.

Yeah. That.

"We're getting married today."

It's a lot of things at once; a fact, a promise, a disbelieving show of excitement. As if even if the rain never let up, or if the world decides today is the day to flood over completely, taking humanity with it, they would still be getting married.

(On a raft, but oh well.)

Basically, it's a 'don't worry,' so Tsukishima doesn't. He trusts Kuroo too much now to doubt him. He laughs, like a teenager, because he simply can't help it, the giddiness he's feeling. This is so dumb, he thinks, so immature. They should be calling people, trying to get a taxi, something.

Instead they're running a good thirty minutes late, standing under an old stone chapel in the dead of winter, and looking at each other as if they were getting married right then and there, in their pre-wedding frumpy clothes with no rings, no music, no cake.

(Yes, the last thing on the list is important.)

It's amazing.

"Mm, we are," Tsukishima says, meeting Kuroo halfway as he leans in for a kiss, and their lips are so chilled but they don't care. Kuroo shivers--yeah that's right, the human heater shivers, so Tsukishima is the one to pull him closer, shielding him from the elements.

"Not sure if it'll be on time," Tsukishima adds as he pulls away, content with the way Kuroo's hands rest on his lower back. His fiancé winces, and Tsukishima laughs again. "But I think early weddings are overrated anyways."

They'll make midnight weddings popular again. They'll all see.

"On a scale of one to ten, how mad do you think Terushima and Bokuto are?" Kuroo asks, bumping his forehead against Tsukishima's.

Oh. Well that's just a scary train of thought.

However, they have time to run through the thousand possible (and all equally believable) scenarios which comes attached to the question, so Tsukishima only smirks. It must be what Kuroo expects of him, because he looks so close to laughing already.

"Well, assuming the place isn't on fire already--"

"And what a bold assumption that is," Kuroo says, voice solemn. He's right though, which again, scary.

"Bokuto is probably worried sick," Tsukishima continues.

"Ah yes, so pure."

"Akaashi is comforting him, because he surely must've known this was gonna happen since he knows everything."

"A god among men that one..."

Tsukishima hasn't broken his neutral face yet but it's a challenge. He almost slaps Kuroo's hands away due to the commentary, but he can't bear to. "Terushima is freaking out and has to be on his third shot by now, and that's being kind. And he’s possibly insulted the two guests who I secretly don't like but had to invite anyways."

"He's a gem."

"He really is."

"Who's next?" Kuroo asks, and it's a ploy all along. As soon as Tsukishima's jaw opens while he debates on it, Kuroo steals a kiss, deep and toe curling.

Tsukishima hates him (but not really).

"Mm," Tsukishima hums against his lips, and he sees the temptation in Kuroo's eyes to take it further. That's the one thing he won’t allow. Not out in public...in the rain anyways. He breaks the kiss, and continues his 95% accurate inferences. "If Terushima’s not drunk enough, he's cursing our names, and Akiteru is probably taking a video so he can show me later. Our parents are obviously at the bar."

"That's not as bad as I pictured it actually," Kuroo says, nodding in appreciation. Tsukishima only sends him a disbelieving look.

"Tetsu."

"Yes?"

"That's only scenario one of many equally possible misfortunes."

Mock fear, which masquerades so perfectly as genuine only because of the man displaying it, covers Kuroo's face enough to make Tsukishima look away. He's going to crack.

"Wait, is the worst scenario that the place burns down?" Kuroo squints, and he must know, as he knows Tsukishima, the fire isn't remotely close to being the worst potential outcome.

Their parents could get in a bar fight over caterers (since they'd both been so insistent on choosing).

A secret madman could hold the whole ceremony hostage.

Kuroo's exes could show up. (Less dire, he knew, but he hated them). Worse, Tsukishima's exes could show up. Ugh.

Tsukishima won't even scratch out the possibility of a zombie apocalypse, but maybe he's been watching too many reruns.

There's all those and about a million more unexpected worst cases, but what Tsukishima ends up saying is the one he truly cares about, the one which matters most.

Kuroo stares at him after the pause carries on too long, concerned and thoughtful in the usual way, and Tsukishima knows what he says truly is the worst of worst cases.

"The worst outcome is...we don't get married today," he whispers, so small and oddly fearful it makes him stumble. It's childish. He knows missing one date doesn't mean the proposal is revoked, but...he likes this day. Not because it means anything or is significant, but he'd spent so many hours planning it with Kuroo in the late hours of the night, folded over brochures and catalogues, tasting cakes and foods, looking at flowers...

Arguing about whether they should put bow ties on their dogs' collars or not...

This day has become quite a big deal, to say the least. Part of Tsukishima's heart is unfairly sentimental about this random day in this random week in this random winter month.

Part of his heart is irrevocably, unfairly sentimental about anything to do with the man in his arms, and it's almost a curse, how much weight it carries. It's good weight though, weight he wanted and weight which felt light in every way.

So even if he has to walk the fifty miles to the venue, he will, as long as he makes it by midnight.

Surely, Kuroo's going to say something equally if not more cheesy, but instead, Tsukishima watches as his fiancé’s brow furrows in confusion before dissolving into amusement.

It's the same look Kuroo gives him when he's about to fight Tsukishima on whether or not a particular flavor ice cream is good, like Tsukishima is oh so misguided. (Yeah, that's what they fight about.)

It makes Tsukishima glare playfully, but Kuroo's next words honor Tsukishima's initial expectations.

"Wait a minute, you said all these scenarios were likely," Kuroo emphasizes, the soft smile already blooming across his face. "That one's impossible."

God.

The words are so unbelievably sappy, the tone drenched in love like the rain seeping through their clothes, and Tsukishima doesn't say anything. Can't. He's so done for.

Why is every response Kuroo has the exact response he needs?

He'll never truly get it, but he'll never take it for granted.

He leans in, and Kuroo meets him like always, connecting their lips as if they'd never get the opportunity to kiss again.The promise sits between them, solid and stable.

Yeah, you're right. We're getting married today.

He'll repeat it as long as he needs to, until the ring is securely on his finger.

And at that moment, a car honks, and they hear tires roll over the gravel of the parking lot. Their reckoning has arrived.

He's not as prepared as he thought.

Terushima leans out of the passenger window, too far out, because as Tsukishima predicted, he's in no state to exist let alone drive. Akaashi looks so smug beside him. "Save it for after the damn vows you hooligans! You're ruining my wedding!"

Tsukishima squints through the violent rain, not moving quite yet from the safety of the awning. "Hooligans? Big insult from the guy I definitely know didn't tie that tie himself. Did my mom help you?"

Beside him, Kuroo finally loses it, and it's possibly more rewarding than the rescue. Also this is Tsukishima's wedding, thanks very much, and he can be a little late if he so chooses.

Terushima stares at him, mouth open and mind torn between venturing out into the rain to personally fight him or ignoring the comment all together. "....Fuck you Kei, you're lucky you're the groom. Can you guys just please get in the car? The clock is ticking!"

Oh, is it now?

With false disappointment, Tsukishima looks to his fiancé and sighs, and Kuroo rolls his eyes along with him. "I mean, I guess."

Yet despite the sass, they do start walking towards the behemoth of a car, the nervous excitement already building in Tsukishima's heart. No matter what he says, all he can think is finally. His steps are hurried, and not even the rain phases him anymore. Soon he'll be in his tux anyways, surrounded by warmth, and he doesn't mean the heated venue.

Kuroo turns to smile at him, and Tsukishima knows it's a mutual feeling.

As they pile in, Terushima has the nerve to sass them once more, but Tsukishima allows it. After all, that's the job of a wedding planner. Or so he's told, and they've probably given Terushima a fair amount of heart attacks already. "You guys do know you're getting married today, right?"

It's like being scolded by his mother. Or Akiteru. It's a toss-up honestly.

The question makes Tsukishima laugh as they pull out of the driveway and onto the main road, the rain heavy against the windshield. Beside him, he feels a hand intertwine with his own, squeezing tight.

He dreads letting go, but knows it'll never be for long.

Kuroo shrugs beside him, but they lean closer, until there's no space left. "Oh, you have no idea."

#kurotsukifestweek #kurotsuki #adri writing #kuroo tetsurou #tsukishima kei

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hockeyfun · 7 years ago

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Auston Matthews #1.2

Request by anon: Can you do a part two of that Auston imagine with that Liam character

Word Count: 1755

Warnings: angst, alcohol, cheating,

Authors note: lol this turned out to be 3000+ words so I’m breaking it up into two posts

Here is part one of it Auston Matthews #1 | #1.2 | #1.3

You looked at the woman in front of you. She was pretty. Dark glamorous makeup with the deep red lipstick was painted on her face. She had a short expensive cocktail dress on that fit her perfectly. She was you. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror but it didn't reach your eyes. On the other side of the bathroom door, Auston Matthews was waiting. His heart was racing. He knew tonight was going to be hard for him. You heard a light tap on your bathroom door. Your roommate and best friend, Auston Matthews, walked in. He was dressed in a burgundy suit perfectly tailored to his body type and his hair slicked back into perfection. Something that took your breath away, even though you knew it shouldn't. Auston, stared at you. He took you in. His mind automatically wished your beauty was for him, but it wasn't. "You ready?" He whispered. You turned to him, nodding your head. "Liam and Jordyn are waiting for us," he told you. "Of course they are," you sighed. Letting your heart drop at the thought of Jordyn. He looked at you sadly, but didn't respond. You followed Auston out of the bathroom and towards the living room. You saw Liam first. He stood up when you walked into the room. His eyes looked you up and down proudly. He was wearing a classic black suit and tie. He looked handsome as could be and given a few months ago the idea of being in this position with him would have gave your stomach butterflies, but at the moment it wasn’t doing that. He walked over to you in just a few strides. He wrapped his arm around your waist and brought his lips to your ear, “you look wonderful,” he whispered and then kissed your temple. You tried to feel the jitters that you knew should come to you when he kissed you. You turned to look up into his blue eyes. You placed your hands on his chest. You knew he’d like this. Liam loved having you close to him and loved making sure Auston knew you were his. This small gesture would surely give Liam something he liked. He pulled you in closer to him. “You look great too,” you spoke with a fake enthusiasm. Auston swallowed hard. He wanted to turn his face away from the events happening in front of him, but he wouldn’t because Jordyn, his girlfriend was watching. “I’m glad we are all going together to this event I’ve been asking Auston for a long time to have a double date with you both,” Jordyn exclaimed. She was gorgeous and it struck you hard every time you looked at her. You smiled and nodded your head, “Yeah, Me too. Auston and I have a very differing schedules so it’s hard to find time that works,” you lied through your teeth. Your eyes locked with Auston’s and felt the truth in each other’s eyes. The truth was you both had agreed not to pursue a relationship. How you came to that agreement you weren't sure. It was the same night you first shared a kiss. You both thought maybe it would work but the conversation got negative quickly. There seemed to be a thousand reasons not to be together which caused you both to agree against being with one another, but it wasn’t really until you came home from a late work night and met Jordyn. She was gorgeous and kissing Auston on the couch. You ran to your room and cried, from that moment on you tried to move on from Auston, with Liam. The irony in the situation was almost comical to you because you realized your feelings for Auston while you were trying to get over Liam. Unfortunately, being with Liam hasn’t helped all that much. That was months ago and since then you have made a conscious effort to spend almost as little time with Auston as possible. It was actually Jordyn who contacted you about going to a one of her friend’s birthday parties tonight. You said no but Liam said yes, hence, why you are here. In some ways you were excited about tonight. You were dressed up and with your boyfriend. Liam wasn’t the best guy but he was fun and hot, a good distraction at times.

You looked at him. Liam with the sand colored hair and blue eyes like the sky. He looked down at you smiling showing off his dimples. You brought your hand up to his cheek. In your head you were saying a soft thank you to him. He gave you that quirky wink you had grown used to. "You guys are really cute," Jordyn gushed. You looked at her then at Auston. He was trying to hide it but you saw it. You always saw it. He was your best friend and hiding things from you was always hard for him. He was hurting because of you. You got angry. It wasn't fair of him to be hurting. He was the one fast to move on. He was the one to agree not to be together.

When you reached the Toronto club, the party just began. The first thing you noticed was the darkness and the number of people there. There was maybe 250 people in all different designer outfits. Everyone looked wonderful. You felt your insecurities making their way to the front of your mind, so did Auston. He knew when your eyes squinted just a little bit, your breathing got a just a bit quicker, and your head tilted up like you were trying to make yourself seem distant, that was when you were beginning to get self-conscious. He also noticed that Liam didn't notice your small panic about to come on. Liam was too busy scanning the woman in the room. Auston scowled at him. "What's wrong babe?" Jordyn asked. Auston turned towards her. She was gorgeous. She fit the stereotypical NHL girlfriend to the T, but she wasn't you. She never let Auston see her without any makeup. She never listened to Auston's problems and helped him. She wasn't anything like you. She didn't know the perfect things to say. She didn't know the way he liked his coffee in the morning. She didn't know that just your smile could brighten his whole mood. "I'm fine," he said hoarsely. You turned at the sound of Auston's raspy voice. Concern written all over your face and your insecurities becoming a minor problem compared to Auston's sad voice. The moment your eyes caught each other's it was like the world was tilting. It was like it was telling you both to be together. Why were you both fighting it so hard? Unfortunately, now the complications were even harder than before. You both were in relationships. The yelling of a drunk Mitch Marner was what broke your gaze from Auston. He had his beautiful girlfriend wrapped under his arms. He yelled Auston's name. He was obviously drunk. He then saw you and his face lit up. He hollered your name, "I can't believe you're here. I haven't seen you in like, in like ten years,” he crinkly slurred. He engulfed you into a massive hug. You hugged him back feeling his friendly warmth. “Where you have you been hiding her, Matthews? He asked in a fake assuming voice. Although you know it didn’t mean anything, your face reddened in embarrassment. As usually Auston looked calm and collected in front of his teammates. “Nope, I think she might just be avoiding you,” he jeered back at Mitch. You knew the truth behind his words though. He has noticed you avoiding him. Liam let out a small cough letting the three of you know that there was more to the world then just you. You looked at him surprised forgetting that you should probably introduce him. “Mitch, this is Liam,” you said as you wrapped your arms around his waist inviting him into the conversation. Liam instinctively wrapped his arm around you and with his other hand shook Mitch’s. “Liam, nice to meet you. And I think I’m the reason you haven’t seen a lot of my girl,” he said while looking down at you with those eyes, those in love eyes. Normally it would be a moment that would make you happy even if you didn’t feel the same way towards Liam, but the problem was it felt forced. Liam never looked at you like that when it was just the two of you. You faked it back. “ugh, they’re just the cutest,” Jordyn gushed. When you returned your focus to the group, Mitch wasn’t looking at you but was looking at Auston. His eyes studied his best friend, reading Auston like a book. Auston was staring at beyond you and Liam. Jordyn was hanging on Auston trying to get his attention. He eventually looked down at her and tried his best to give her a genuine smile but it looked more like a grimace. “Oh, Auston look there is the birthday girl,” Jordyn squealed and dragged Auston off. You looked at Mitch and Steph, two people you feel comfortable with. They looked at you with this awkward ‘wanting to get involved but not knowing if it’s their place’ face. Not wanting to talk about this with anyone, especially when you are with Liam, you dragged yourself and your boyfriend to the bar.

After a few shots, you felt at ease. You loved dancing and feeling good. Liam danced behind you moving his hips in sync with you. He placed his hands on your hips, he kept squeezing them, making you a little uncomfortable. As you tired out your legs, you looked around the room. You saw Auston look at you for a split second, down a shot, and pull out his car keys. your heart lurched at the thought. A crowd of people swarmed in front of you and by the time you peaked through the sea of people Auston was gone. Your heart began to pound and you hear rushing water in your ears. You pulled away from Liam. “I need to find Auston,” you spoke firmly. ‘Auston couldn’t be doing this’ you thought to yourself. He would risk his entire career and life by driving drunk, you assumed. You knew he could possibly be dangerously intoxicated. The fear of him getting in an accident scared you to a point of shacking in your semi-drunken state.

#auston matthews #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl one shot #nhl one shots #nhl imagine #nhl drabble #Toronto Maple Leafs #hockey #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey drabble #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey one shots #hockeyfun

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toast-the-unknowing · 7 years ago

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lydia-st-james tagged me in a writing in review meme, which, man. That takes me back. I haven't done one of these in ages.

Main take-aways: 1. 2017 was the year of the long-ass fic titles, apparently. 2. It only took ten freaking years but I can mostly write romance without dying of embarrassment. Mostly. 3. Ten years has not been long enough to teach me how to start something and just finish it already before starting twenty more things. Seriously, there are so many stories that I started this year that I keep thinking ya'll have read already and then I remember that no one has read those because I haven't finished them yet. Oh well. Maybe 2018 will be a year of extraordinary personal growth and self-discipline. Spoiler alert: it won't be.

Anyway. These are the things that I've published so far this year.

Listed in chronological order of publication, with one exception:

new worlds for the weary, new lands for the living Okay, so, I don't know if anyone else thinks of any of their stories this way, but I have a very small handful of fics that are my heartsong fics. I don't think of them as being stories. I think of them as being thousands of words of meta and criticism and gushing and character love and, just, me, pouring my heart out over some aspect of canon that is important to me, and then maybe if I'm lucky, I trick people into reading it and thinking it's a story.

Yeah. This is one of those. I started this story before I had even finished Blue Lily, Lily Blue, which is not a thing I do. I always finish canon (to whatever extent canon exists at the time of my joining fandom) before I start writing. But I wanted so badly to write about Adam and Ronan and how I felt about their relationship that I couldn't wait.

This was something like a five month writing process all told, and I'm really happy with the end result. The moment where Ronan smears ink on Adam's face, in particular, I'm very proud of. I'm proud of that whole fight scene, really, but that moment is such a strong visual, and I'm not generally great at creating those.

don't think about how much it will hurt God, I still hate this title, but I do love this fic. It exists because I had been toying around with a canon-divergent AU that I quickly realized was going to take a shit-ton of work and not actually be that interesting. I ditched the AU, but there was one scene I liked enough that I didn't want to give up on it (Ronan trying to provoke Adam into punching him and then holding his hand while wondering wtf he's doing), and I realized it could pretty easily be made canon-compliant and given the legs to stand on its own.

I briefly considered tagging this as "preslash if you consider fighting and bad decisions to be flirting, which if you ship pynch, you probably do," and then I considered how poorly that would match the tone of this story. I am very happy with the tone of this story. It was hard to write, and I think it's hard to read, and it's a better story for it.

the more we move ahead the more we're stuck in rewind NO ONE ON EARTH READ THIS FIC BUT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT I LOVE IT. There are so many, many, many things in this fic that make me happy: -Clarke being an unholy mashup of my sister and talldecafcappuccino -"You thought that there was an intersection of sentimentality and camp that Miller wouldn't be interested in?" -Just, Murphy. All of Murphy. -The Inseparable, Indestructible Blake Siblings (which is when the Blake siblings are at their best, fuck you, canon) -"Do you ever worry that we're going to turn out to be warped people with unhealthy relationships/Honestly at this point I'm counting on it." -the whole scene where Raven friend-dumps Clarke -Monty taking "gas grass or ass" too seriously -Nate's stupid "you know what they say about those guys with Bigfoot" t-shirt (I would wear that t-shirt)

Like, I know why this story wasn't successful as an item of fan culture. And I acknowledge that there are weaknesses in the writing. But I still fucking love it.

so familiar, like an old bedtime song Ugh, this was called "came in quiet with the rain" right up until the very second I published it and then I changed my mind and I still regret it. Never second gues yourselves, kids. (Either way: "Raising Cain" is a good Adam/Ronan song.) I wrote about half of this on a whim and then shoved it in a corner waiting for inspiration for the longer story that I thought it was meant to be a part of. Then I was sitting around on Adam's birthday/my birthday weekend, a little tipsy in the middle of the day, and I decided, nah, this can be a standalone. I'm not kidding myself that it's great literature but I think it does what it sets out to do well.

The Fake Geek Boy Job This is a rare example, for me, of coming up with a title first and writing the story around it. So that was fun. I was so, so, so happy with the response to this fic. I've written case fic before, but I'm not good at heists, and I was really worried that the way I handle the heavier plot elements here – basically cutting around them and explaining all of the offstage action through snarky banter – was going to feel like cheating. Like, there's probably a version of this story that's 20k words longer and is twice as good, but it would have taken ten times as much work. It seems like people understood the plot as it stands and didn't feel robbed, and it was such a relief to hear that.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name IT IS THE PROUDEST ACCOMPLISHMENT OF MY ENTIRE LIFE that there are only two fanfics on AO3 tagged with the relationship tag "Quark & Jake Sisko" and I wrote both of them. Though I fully admit that "Everybody Comes to Quark's" is the better story of the two. This one feels like the first half is from one story and the second half is from a different story and neither of those two stories is complete, per se. But love a lot of the individual lines, character moments, etc. Also, just, any times spend with my beloved ridiculous giraffe boy Jake is good time.

faith, hope, all that bullshit This is the best thing that I have ever written that is based on a typo. And...I don't really know how to talk about this fic beyond that. It took something like seven months of on-again-off-again work; I am super grateful to Pynch Week for giving me the kick in the pants to finish it. There were so many things that were challenging about this – I hated everything in life the entire time I was writing Matthew. Plus trying to write all the characters as being a little older and more mature and their relationships as having progressed. But it was worth it because there are so many moments in this fic that just are still living in my head, even though I've put the fic down.

I think my favorite scene of all is the Christmas Eve scene, partly because I love Declan and partly because I love the "fucking Cain ruined it for the rest of us" exchange. But from a craft point of view I'm proud of that scene a lot. The first scene is its own contained story with beginning/middle/end; the Christmas Eve scene is what makes the proposal scene the beginning of a longer story, and it happens without the POV character understanding that it's happening. I'm pretty happy with how that all turned out.

People really liked the wedding scene, which is gratifying and totally baffling. That scene was murder to write. I don't even want to plan my own wedding, now I got to make one up for someone else? Of course, I mean. I cheated, because I didn't actually write the reception. Maybe the lesson here is if I don't even want to write a scene then for sure no one would want to read it?

Word on the Street This is another one, like The Fake Geek Boy Job, where I think there's a version of the story that's twice as good and eight times as long and a hundred times more work to write; I'm satisfied with my version. Also, I think the longer version is much more serious, whereas this is a comedy and I am happy with it as a comedy. Adam maybe comes off a little poorly, in the way that comedy characters sometimes come off dickish/rude/sociopathic. But it makes me laugh and honestly if I make myself laugh I'm happy. (That's not to say I'm never going to write the epic tale of how Ronan becomes Greywaren – I know what the first line of it is – but it's a real low priority).

come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls OKAY I WROTE THIS IN LIKE LITERALLY TWO DAYS AND YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME. Even just writing something of this length usually takes weeks if not months between when I start it and when I finish it. This was like a dirty little fling, and as someone who never has dirty little flings either in life or in writing, that was a fun change of pace.

The Dragon's Nest Avatar: The Last Airbender is, in my eyes, basically a perfect television show, and it's a lot harder to write fic for something that you think is well-written/complete on its own, because where do you and your fanwriting fit in? As such, this was a challenge, but I'm pretty happy with it. Alchemicink, for whom this was written, mentioned being happy just from seeing the "intergenerational friendship" tag, and I gotta say I was happy just from getting to use that tag. And any day you get to write Toph stomping around yelling at people is a good day.

while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now So credit where credit is due: lydia-st-james gave me the prompts here and put up with my intermittent screeching as I was working on it. It took me a while to get it all done, but I wrote literally 13k words of this in the first four days, which is bonkers; I'm usually much more of a percolator in the early stages of writing. As such a lot of the outlining process is lost to the sands of time. I don't remember making an actual decision to set this in LA; I think my subconscious realized before I did that this was going to be a story about loneliness and depression, and, fairly or unfairly, I associate loneliness and depression with the city of Los Angeles. In any case, it gave me lots of opportunities to throw shade at LA and I'm always down for that, and I've loved hearing people respond to the specificity of the location.

It's funny to me that people are responding to this one so strongly because I don't generally groove on fake dating; I’ve never written it as a trope and I always find it hard to swallow as a reader. I wonder if there's something to be said for writing tropes one is somewhat critical of. Though I don't think, generally, it works out when people write a thing they actively hate. It's a theory I'm tinkering with, anyway.

#long-ass post #whoops #sorry?#millenial loves talking about herself: news at 11 #lydia-st-james #gpoy

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thedaycourts · 8 years ago

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(completed) acowar liveblog

ACOWAR LIVE BLOG (SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY)

spoilers will be ahead... you have been warned

feel free to message me to talk about the book!

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5/1/17 11:22pm- someone help me I've literally preordered the ebook and the hardcover (which hasn't even shipped yet ugh) and I'm so prepared

5/1/17 11:31pm- I've read the first 8 sample chapters so. many. times... i'm ready for the real thing now pls thx bye

5/2/17 12:06am- IT TOOK TILL 12:06 FOR THE EBOOK TO RELEASE OMG MIDNIGHT RELEASE MY BUTT SMH

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chapters 1-8: i kinda like jurian actually (maybe ill regret saying that idk), lucien being protective of elain is making my heart warm, tamlin makes me wanna kill someone, feyre shouldve cut ianthe’s throat tbh, the twins give out such weird vibes, AND OMG rhys and feyre sending images of themselves sticking their tongues out is my moodboard i love it so much

chapter 9: “Blood rubies or no, you will always have one friend in the Summer Court.” My throat bobbed. “And you will always have one in mine,” I promised her. She knew which court I meant. And did not look afraid. I LOVE ALIS OK SHE IS ACCEPTING AND PROTECTIVE AND AMAZING

ianthe needs to get her filthy hands off of lucien before i strangle her

LUCIEN AND FEYRE GOING TO THE NIGHT COURT TOGETHER HECK TO THE YES

chapter 12: @luciens brothers can you go die pls ok thx bye

chapter 13: CASSIAN IS OK AND SO IS AZ ADHEIOFHJKFAJ MY LIFE IS SLOWLY PIECING ITSELF BACK TOGETHER

“i am the high lady of the night court” hECK YES YOU ARE

the tender cassian and feyre hug made me sob even more and then the mor hug hauidfghuajkshcdfa the feels

chapter 14: I AM SOBBING I AM S O B B I N G AT THIS FEYSAND REUNION HELP MY POOR BROKEN SOUL

also omg just imagine lucien watching this reunion bc i think his expression would be absolutely priceless

chapter 15: “I was in love with Feyre,” Rhys said quietly, “long before she ever returned the feeling.” whats that noise??? oh yeah its just the sound of my heart breaking no big deal

“I revealed the mating bond months later—and she gave me hell for it, don’t worry.” hA

LUCIEN CALLING AMREN A CRANKY OLD AUNT OMG

chapter 16: poor nesta and elain omg no

i really need to know whats going on between nesta and cassian bc theres def something there hehe

chapter 17: MOR AND CASSIAN AND STICKING THEIR TONGUES OUT TO EACH OTHER TOO NOW OMG FIRST FEYRE AND RHYS AND NOW THEM WHAT IS HAPPENING

chapter 18: “defending the female he loved” PLS JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY @MOR @AZRIEL

“our family” MY HEART IS MELTING HELP I JUST WANT MY BABIES TO BE HAPPY

“It was the first time you had looked … peaceful. Like you were indeed awake, alive again. I was so relieved I thought I’d puke right onto the table.” GUYS RHYS CARES SO MUCH ABOUT FEYRE LIKE PLS REALIZE HE WAS SO ECSTATIC THAT SHE LOOKED ALIVE AGAIN HE WANTED TO PUKE BC HE CARES ABOUT HER SO. FREAKING. MUCH.

“I will fight with everything I have, too, Rhys. Everything.” why do i have the feeling this is foreshadowing something that i am not going to like at all

chapter 19: “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?” this is how true love starts out 400% you go nesta

chapter 21: oh dang it here goes the nightmares starting up again

chapter 22: feyre sees the bone carver as their son omg what can this please happen

chapter 23: “Nothing about Nesta could frighten me.” *cue me audibly going awwwwww*

chapter 24: “She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.” This seems to be a common way of thinking when people look at their mates hehe throwback to acotar

az is such a bean like who else is awesome enough to wait 500 years for the girl he loves

chapter 26: AZRIEL PUTTNG HIS HAND ON TOP OR MOR’S DURING THE MEETING WITH KIER OMG WHY MUST SHE REJECT HIS TENDER HAND TOUCH

chapter 27: mor being depressed bc of what she witnessed at the meeting makes me wanna cry

omg the inner court arguing what is this

chapter 29: tbh az reminds me of myself so much and i think we have the same MBTI personality type((:

chapter 30: the heck is hybern’s little minions doing in velaris nonunion go home you aren't allowed here

chapter 32: NESTA IS A SEER WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

chapter 33: “He did not glance back at Elain. Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs—as if she’d speak to him. Stop him.” elucien for rulers of the autumn court pls

chapter 34: varian warning amren??? they're friends?? so they keep in touch?? hmmmmmmm sounds suspicious(((;

chapter 36: KING OF HYBERN VS RHYS OMG WHAT AM I ABOUT TO WITNESS

oh jk he wasn't really there oops

chapter 38: I think tarquin should forgive them especially since they came to his rescue but hey thats just me

chapter 39: “And it was precisely because of it that I said, “I love you.” His head lifted, eyes churning. “There was a time when I dreamed of hearing that,” he murmured. “When I never thought I’d hear it from you.”

nesta being worried ab cassian ahhhhhh

chapter 42: nesta being named emissary omg i love it

“And to my eternal shock, a smile tugged at Nesta’s mouth.” ahaha

GAMBLING ON THE FIGHTS AT THE MEETING AHAHA WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED AT ALL

chapter 43: this viviane girl seems cool.. i hope she doesn't end up stabbing my babies in the back:)))

ew no i was perfectly fine with having tamlin absent for the remainder of the book

same @feyre who is 500% done with tamlin and his crap

chapter 45: NESTA STANDING UP FOR CASSIAN AND SASSING OUT BERON IS THE REASON IM STILL ALIVE

chapter 47: I'm beginning to really like helion

chapter 48: too bad i already saw spoilers so i knew helion was luciens dad smhhhhhhh

ok but like if nesta thinks something is wrong, shouldn't you have learned by now that something is usually wrong???????

wow would ya look at that...something was wrong *scowls*

chapter 52: where the frick frackle jensen ackle did jurian come from

chapter 53: ok but i totally called jurian being good

....tamlin still being a tool i see

chapter 55: they keep mentioning their dad so i have a feeling he's in trouble/being held captive

chapter 56: nesta helping heal cass omg yes

YES MY GIRL SURI

chapter 58: I've never wanted ianthe dead more,,,,WHO DARES SHOOT MY GIRL SURI HREIAOFHJAKEF FIGHT ME

chapter 60: i literally bawled so much when suri died omg i sounded like a dying horse

chapter 61: this episode of honestly hour features feyre and mor going head-to-head about decisions and relationships... stay tuned for the next episode

chapter 62: amren and varian kissing hm how do i feel ab this

chapter 63: ELAIN IS AN ACTUAL SUNSHINE WHO DARES TAKE HER AWAY (of course its az my little bean who notices she's gone)

also I'm betting ten bucks lucien will find her and save her (prolly not gonna happen but it would be cute if he did)

chapter 64: EW SHE HAS TO BE IANTHE WOW THATS UNFORTUNATE

rhys and feyre’s goodbyes felt more like a pep talk than a sad goodbye but thats just me

ok thanks for saving feyre @tamlin but for the record i still hate you

chapter 65: omg nesta hugging feyre and all the sisters being all nice and cuddly makes me so happy

chapter 66: the moriel shipping part of me is very sad but yunno maybe this means i can keep az for myself (or elain can have him idk which direction sarah will take this) and mor can be eternally happy((:

sooooo does this mean elain x az is now gonna happen bc like az is gonna need someone to help heal the hole in his heart and elain is such a sweetie but what about lucien????

chapter 68: but are we ever gonna know what feyre saw in the mirror?

chapter 69: tender az and elain moment omg that was so cute i love my smol beans

“I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have … The wait was worth it.” AWEEE

rhys and his lil speeches to everyone dang what is this

chapter 70: “And then Nesta began screaming. Not in pain. But a name. Over and over. “CASSIAN.” IM SUCH NESSIAN TRASH IDOFHAJDKFA

chapter 71: “This was it. The last moments … the last time I would see them all.” nothings even happened yet and I'm already crying

“He told me that he’s got three daughters who live here. And that he failed them for many years. But he would not fail them this time.” well shoot i have no words rn and tbh i kinda forgot their dad existed the past few chapters

chapter 72: “She wrapped her arms tightly around Cassian, those gray-blue eyes bright, then they were gone.” THEY GIVE ME LIFEEEE YESSSS

chapter 73: OK AMREN WHAT ARE YA DOIN???

chapter 74: ....welp... bye bye mr archeron thanks for saving my babies and also wHERE THE FRICK DID YOU COME FROM?? nesta and elain and feyre being sad is making me sad

OK WHY IS CASSIANS WINGS GETTING HURT AGAIN??? i feel like this is sarah starting a new thing like “hey! lets just end every book with cassian’s wings getting ripped to shreds!!”

“I have no regrets in my life, but this.” His voice shook with every word. “That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.” FRICK OMG THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE MOMENT I BECAME COMPLETE NESSIAN TRASH. AND THEN THE KISS. OH MY. I CANT. I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

and elain coming to the rescue omg heck to the yes

chapter 75: nesta stabbing the king is tHE BEST. i can't just feel the pure rage and emotion radiating out of her as she twists the blade in his neck. think of the people she's doing it for. her dad, her sisters, her new family, cassian. this scene gives me so many feels

amren saying she's glad she met feyre awe

chapter 76: AHHHH RHYS IM SOBBING NO FEYRE HDAUKHJD AHHHH WHY DID RHYS DIE ON PAGE 666

chapter 77: feyre screaming for rhys nononononono i feel my soul shattering

rhys was DEAD and he comes back making a JOKE....why is this not surprising

chapter 78: lucien is back ahhhh it feels like he was gone for the whole book tbh

yes drakon and miryam hauifheajkdfhajfha

chapter 81: RHYSAND’S POV YESSSS

talking about feyre’s “beautiful laugh” ahhhhhh they're sooooo cuteeee

chapter 82: i LOVE the fact the book ended with them all peaceful. they deserve it. i love everyone. i am happy. goodbye.

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tumblunni · 8 years ago

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One of my other fave cuddles is my gengar named gaspar! I’m really filled with love for him too right now cos I’m learning ev training and apparantly he ended up being perfect for a speedy build, which just seems so cute and fitting for his personality! ^_^ I’m a bit tired so i dunno if I’ll ramble as much about him but here we go!

Gaspar is also a good friend: The Post

He also has a lil story behind how I got him, I think his is the more silly one. See, he’s actually a sinnoh reminder of mine! There’s one ~absolute asshole~ npc in sinnoh who offers you a trade of a haunter for a kadabra, but then when you get it you find out it had an everstone attatched. So she got a trade exclusive evo and left you without yours, and this is friggin AN INGAME NPC! It was so memorable to me because i got trolled by nintendo personally! XD So i wanted to spite that npc by adoring that haunter so much forever. And I kept him for the next decade and loved him a many! I actually kinda got attatched to him being stuck as a haunter forever, cos I didnt have any friends to trade with. Haunter has always been my fave of the evo line, even if i preferred its early design where it was shadowy and had a glowy outline similar to gastly. (I think that stopped in gsc? it was always pure purple in the official art but the spritework looked SO much better...) So I actually ended up irrationally upset when he finally evolved by accident during a trade like six years later. i totally forgot that he even COULD evolve! I feel bad that i was upset at my friend I did the trade with, I knew it was irrational but I still whined like a lil baby. I was all ‘ugh now he’s FAT’ like a stupid hypocrite XD But now that we have mega gengar and i have my own gengar plush at last, ive grown to like it a lot more. And honestly id still be just as attatched to my pokemon even if they completely change appearance, its not like I hated gaspar just because i didnt like the species as much. IM SORRY GASPAR FOR MY DUMB POUTING! You are so cool you changed my mind on gengars!!! Also its a nice excuse to redesign his really old gijinka form I drew once:

Anyway, his personality is a big ol childish goofy lug! He’s kinda similar to the personality i ended up headcanoning for my rotom gizmo all those years later. honestly i always have a sort of perspective on how all ghost pokemon fundementally are, even tho i still try and give them their own personality too. All ghosts are some form of cheerful tricksters, okay! Gaspar in particular is a big snickering lazy loaf of hugs who is absolutely addicted to sugary junk foods. ‘The wonders of the modern world!’ Even though he’s kinda procrastinatey about actually doing what he has to do, he’s very hyper about pulling pranks on everyone and generally being kinda like Loki from norse myth? He’s a bit more morally flexible than the others, or its more like he has trouble remembering what a lot of stuff was like from being human. (I’ll get to his backstory in a bit!) He’s definately a well-intentioned guy but he can be very scary to his enemies, and sometimes accidentally cause problems for the group cos his vices are easily manipulateed. He tends to get stringed along by his ‘ghost instincts’ to pull pranks even when its self destructive, and he always jumps in without thinking. A candy in the middle of a blatantly obvious trap = he registers the candy part and only gets the rest when he’s already captured XD But also he’s probably the member of the older pokemon that’s the most open about his affections. He’s one big ol jolly hug to everyone who asks, and everyone who doesnt! Even though him and Reaper can both be sly together, he doesnt understand this young man’s strange fascination with pretending he doesnt have emotions. Gaspar’s one big driving force behind all his various quirks is that he’s flawlessly honest. He finds it hard to keep quiet when he’s joyous, and everything is made of joy nowadays! He’s just really happy to be alive right now... or, well, “alive”. But also his easily exciteable nature means he blurts out all secrets with no restraint, and has trouble not throwing a childish tantrum whenever the tiniest thing goes wrong. Though, still, he’s very rarely ACTUALLY angry, and will forget about it in like ten seconds. he just kinda enjoys making a fuss XD Then again on the rare occasion he is mad it is because you HURT HIS CHILDREN, and you will really get to see why gengars are known as spirits of vengeance...

So yeah! Backstory! This was actually the first thing I thought up for him, and it shaped his whole character. Again, it all came from that one weird ingame trade! ‘Gaspar’ felt like an odd name to give a random trade, I mean its a cute pun but also its like an olden times name you dont hear often. So I imagined maybe this ghost is the spirit of a human from long ago, and obviously he’d be excited to try modern junk food, etc etc the beginnings of a character! But cos I am blessed with the ability to create sad headcanons out of everything, I... did that! Alas! I somehow got a really sad idea for who this mysterious old human nobleman could have been. I thought maybe he was a guy who was murdered and came back from the grave to take revenge on his killers, but then had to deal with still being stuck here even after his big quest was finished. Making a new life because he cant go back to his old one. Initially the idea was that he was a guy killed on his wedding day, hence the tuxedo in that old design. But he ended up feeling more like an asexual character as I developed him, so thats a bit outdated now. He’s just like the dad of a thousand kids and no wife. Its good that he’s finally happy nowadays with all these new friends! A shame it took that long though, he can barely even remember who he used to be. (A more cynical part of him thinks that maybe going senile is the only reason he’s able to finally let go, and he wonders if he missed many other chances to make a new family cos he was so hung up on mourning a life he couldnt go back to...)

Anyway, even though his powers were born from rage and hatred, he finds that becoming a ghost is the thing that helped him forget all of that. He just has kind of a childlike joy for this stuff. He claims its ‘pokemon instincts’ or whatever and he had no part whatsoever in his own development from a scary anger man into everyone’s dad, but honestly that just seems like he’s making excuses not to give himself credit. there’s nothing here but the fact that his fundemental nature is a kind man who can find wonder in the simplest of things. Yknow, when he isnt being distracted by great tragedy! It was just like ‘wow i’d never thought about it but gaining the ability to fly and walk through walls is pretty kickass’. Think of all the pranking potential! And he proceeded to distract himself from his loneliness by haunting the graveyard and running around wearing bedsheets. But at the same time sneaking around the town and doing good deeds for everyone, even if they were all terrified of him. And no matter how sad he got, he could be cheered up by the tiniest thing like just being able to see the sunset again. He always remembers how scared he was thinking that he was gonna die at such a young age and never get to do so many things... And then his loneliness started easing when he realized he could talk to other pokemon now, and he worked up the courage to leave his grave and travel the world in search of a new place to belong. Then... he ended up with a bunch of shitty trainers!! But at least thankfully he was finally traded to our protagonist and now things are looking up ^_^

Oh and yeah thats why his old design looked so young, even though he was always meant to be the oldest team member. (Not just chronologically I mean, he’s like 300 but he’s like middle age by ghost standards.) Tho really saying he died at a nebulous teen-young adult age was just my excuse because those were the only people I was able to draw at the time. And i was dumb and thought every other sort of more creative design was ‘ugly’ and everyone should be a generic anime bishie :P Honestly redesigning him to look like a cool cuddly butler or a circus ringleader or all the millions of gengar gijinka ideas would be a HUGE improvement for his character! Even if he’s childish he’s still the team dad, yo! Im just worried that I won’t be able to draw a spoopy action pose again, I always felt like that first pic was a huge fluke. It was my best piece of artwork for like four years straight, I barely ever improve :P Also I really liked his hair as a haunter, but funnily enough I designed him like a few months before Charon was revealed, lol. Now it just looks like i tried to copy him! Bishie teen gaspar loses a bit of the appeal when he’s stealing looks from old men XD I’m thinking maybe he could have a cute mustache of some sort now, in the shape of ghosty spikeys? or a top hat that’s spiky on top, or a bunch of other ways to make him resemble gengar’s mohawk without actually having one. Nothing against that hairstyle but it maybe wouldnt work for a middle aged stay at home dad whose greatest form of punk activity is eating frozen poptarts out of the box.

OH WAIT Maybe he could reuse this design I did of myself as a ghost for a meme??

“chubby characters are something I will never draw ever, they can never look cool” said the past bunni, continuing to be incredibly chubb srsly ditching the self hate and doing some stylization lessons is the only place where i can admit my art improved!

#bunni original vintage post

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itsclydebitches · 8 years ago

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Jupiter Ascending Fic: When the Bough Breaks

Summary: Just days after Balem returned to his adult self, Jupiter is thrown head-first into another adventure - one she, frankly, really doesn't have the energy for. But when has the universe ever taken her desires into account? Mysteries, promises, and desperate moves forward; bees, splices, and awkward family dinners. It's enough to make even her seasoned head spin.

...which doesn't even include the chance to play at 'Mother' once more. Only question is: will Jupiter take it?

(Sequel to Rock the Cradle)

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Words: 1,614 (so far)

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse, alcoholism

Pairings: Jupiter/Caine

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting)

When the Bough Breaks: Chapter One

Jupiter sat with her back to most of the crowd, the sun warming her neck and her hands fidgeting endlessly. One traced the condensation on her glass while the other twisted the stud in her ear.

“I spy with my little eye…” she said, turning to scan the patrons. There was certainly a lot to choose from. The day was hot, the shopping good, and everyone seemed to have had the same idea as her: get lunch at the cute little outdoor café. Jupiter saw a young couple playing footsie underneath their table, the one girl’s heels gliding over the other’s sandals. There was another woman whom she presumed was a teacher, hard at work even during the summer months, covering some poor student’s paper using Track Changes. A group of guys shared a large plate of nachos. A father absently pet his daughter’s hair as he scowled at his phone. A mother—

Jupiter whirled back around. She planted her chin in her hand and pursed her lips. Then she smiled at Caine.

“Something yellow,” she finished.

“The confection on those men’s chips,” Caine answered readily. He bit his lip slightly when she huffed.

“How—?”

“Your stared at them a moment longer than the other spots. Did you want some?”

Nachos… food did always make her feel better. She’d already had a chicken and pesto sandwich though. And an iced chai. And half of Caine’s blueberry scone.

Jupiter waved him off. “No, I’m good. You’re cheating though.”

“I am?” Caine blinked. “I thought the purpose of this game was to determine what you’d spotted based on eye-line matches, common facial tells, your individual preferences…” he trailed off when Jupiter’s sulking grew more pronounced.

“You’re supposed to guess,” she moaned.

“That… doesn’t seem to take much skill…”

Jupiter let out a groan and gave up, planting her head on the cool tabletop. Why she’d thought it would be a good idea to teach Caine a kid’s game, she didn’t know. It had started as a stupid distraction, but apparently her subconscious wasn’t willing to let things go just yet. So Jupiter was now perfectly content to glare at the table, thank you very much. It was one of those frosted glass ones and Jupiter took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in watching her blurred feet kick at the slate. She only stopped when her flip-flop bent—betrayal—and she stubbed her toe. Jupiter muttered a few obscenities into the crook of her arm.

A minute passed. Two. Then Jupiter felt the slightest poke on the top of her head. It turned into five fingers gently massaging her scalp and she groaned again, this time in contentment.

“I spy with my little eye… A queen who is rather worried about tonight’s festivities.”

“Festivities.” Jupiter’s head shot back up and she blinked at Caine. “I wouldn’t really call it ‘festivities.’”

“No? You decided to host the event.”

Okay. So Jupiter may or may not have been overly optimistic and grasping at straws the second she walked out of that throne room. Could anyone really blame her? Her life hadn’t exactly been plan-proof lately: abducted by aliens, finding out she was Queen of Far Too Much Shit, landing herself a hunky angel-wolf-boyfriend…

… finding out her would-be murderer had possibly, deliberately de-aged himself.

Balem.

That was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? One moment Jupiter was sort of getting used to her newfound space life, the next a capitalist obsessed mama’s boy was taking up residence in her lap. She wasn’t going to lie, not to herself at least. Balem had drawn forth a whole slew of maternal instincts that, frankly, Jupiter had thought she’d missed out on genetically. Devotion to Dude Bros 1 through 6 of her misspent youth certainly hadn’t inspired a desire for kids. Hell, even Caine hadn’t managed that, not until Jupiter actually saw him shuffling around a cranky six-year-old, trying to figure out how to talk to this girlfriend-stealing creature. Maybe it was a sliver of Seraphi rising up within her… no. Maybe it was the essence of what Seraphi could have been, if she’d bothered to spend a second to get to know the child she’d given life to. Maybe it was just that Jupiter couldn’t stand to see a tiny face crying like that. Whatever it was, Balem had managed to become quite the fixture within her heart—all the sappiness implied. Jupiter loved the brat. Only problem was, that brat was gone.

Sort of. Kind of? One second she’d had what she was coming to think of as a son, the next Jupiter just had an enemy again, breathing insults down the back of her neck… except that Balem had changed deliberately. He had started all this. At least, that was the impression Kalique and Titus held. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Balem was reading Liam and Cryian’s story the day he took a Regene-X bath with a disabled genetic code. Or hell, maybe it was a coincidence. Caine and Stinger certainly weren’t convinced (“You Majesty,” soft eyes, an almost pitying stare. “Balem, the adult Balem, lost the ability to love centuries ago…”). All Jupiter knew for sure was that she’d seen evidence of her own, things that went beyond Kalique’s stupid book or the boys’ cynicism: Balem had worn her earring. He hadn’t tossed the album back in a charred heap. Jupiter knew—could see it in his eyes—that he remembered.

Certainly all the counted for something, right?

Jupiter planted her face into her hands. “Or maybe he just couldn’t be bothered to take the damn earring out,” she muttered.

Caine nodded, understanding, fingers returning to massage Jupiter’s wrist, right where her Entitled tattoo lay. He had callouses all over, the result of handling a ridiculously wide variety of weaponry, and Jupiter found the rough texture soothing. She let out a long, slow breath.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do with all this,” she said, nodding to the bags at their feet. “This was a stupid idea.”

“Stinger will appreciate the food. Even more if you cook it for him.”

“Ha. Yeah. How do you get so good at pancakes and nothing else?”

“It’s a talent.”

Jupiter continued nudging the nearest bag with the front of her flip-flop. As she did, movement caught her eye again: that mother, sitting on the table to their right, spoon feeding her infant something mushy and green. It was easy for that woman, wasn’t it? Nothing was easy for Jupiter as a potentially would-be mother… or as a daughter.

She’d been stupidly optimistic a week ago. Dealing with Balem’s transformation and his quick turn back, Jupiter had admittedly been reeling a bit. She’d thrown out the invitation to dinner with more confidence than she’d felt, especially considering there hadn’t been a dinner scheduled yet. Kalique and Titus had both agreed readily enough—no doubt they wanted to get as much dirt on their brother as possible, though the more she thought about it, the more Jupiter convinced herself that Balem wouldn’t even show. Why would he? Tens of thousands of years weren’t outweighed by a few days in her care. Besides, if Balem was anything, he was stubborn.

Sometime between Friday and Saturday those dinner plans had turned into a “reveal-you’re-a-galactic-queen-to-your-family-omg-it’s-time-Jupiter” party. She had promised her mom two days, after that fiasco of a dinner. She’d intended to call a meeting and explain things on Monday, as calmly and rationally as possible when her life was neither calm nor rational. Jupiter knew there was a hell of a lot to explain. When she’d touched back down on Earth after seeing to Balem, she’d found her family happily back at home, neither Aleksa nor Nino recalling that just hours before Jupiter had disappeared on their client’s lawn, dematerializing in a flash of blue light. Apparently the Keepers stationed on Earth had a damn good response time.

Memory wipes after the refinery… after Balem… how long could this go on? Jupiter didn’t know what the long term effects of something like that was, and frankly, she didn’t want to find out. Just tell them all ready, you dolt.

So… Monday. That had been the plan, anyway. Her mom and the others would have a few days days before Thursday’s dinner to process it all, which was a hell of a lot more than Jupiter had gotten. Imagine, coming to terms with extraterrestrial life without said life pointing a laser gun at your head, and they weren’t the once inheriting a freaking planet. (Unless they were? Who gained her inheritance when she died?? Ugh, legalities…) The only problem with this master plan was that Monday had passed her by, with Jupiter spending it hovering anxiously around her mom—opening and shutting her mouth like a caught, cowardly trout.

…Easy to imagine how well that had gone over.

Tuesday gone, Wednesday too, Thursday morning at 12:00 Jupiter had called a quick goodbye after finishing the Lawrence’s house, met Caine at the store, and proceeded to purchase all the ingredients for a dinner that was only technically still in the works.

Here and now, Jupiter sullenly kicked the bag of groceries. Again.

“You’ll break the eggs,” Caine cautioned. He didn’t sound terribly upset about that though.

“Why did we even get eggs? You don’t need eggs for a steak and baked potato dinner.”

“Stinger wants to broaden his breakfast repertoire.”

Jupiter narrowed her eyes. “Well Stinger can just—”

Bzz, Bzz.

“—call me apparently." Caine shrugged, no more knowledgeable than she was. All Jupiter could do was palm her phone and lean her elbow casually on the table.

"Hey, beekeeper. What's up?”

#Jupiter Ascending #JA #JAfic #Jupiter Jones #Caine Wise #I've wanted to start this sequel for a very long time honestly <3

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boschlingtumbles · 4 years ago

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White Wedding (Ch 37)

Catelyn (Vice and Wish 12 of 12)

Catelyn woke in bed in her family’s summer home in Riverrun, her sister snuggled under the covers inches away. She smiled—hadn’t that always been the way when they were younger? Promising to stay in their own beds and then sneaking out for sleepovers as soon as their mother’s back was turned?

Granted, when they were younger, Lysa typically didn’t fall asleep wearing a very dirty thrift store wedding dress. Was that cheese-whiz down the front?

Catelyn realized she was also still wearing her thrift store wedding dress and that she should probably take a shower and then take Robb off her saint of an uncle’s hands.

Once in the shower, some of the tranquility and coziness of waking up in her old bedroom faded. She recalled her bravado from last night and cringed. Hear me roar indeed.

Since she had left on this thrice-damned family holiday—no earlier than that, since the wedding, no since the PROPOSAL, she had been walking on eggshells around her father. She had always been her father’s favorite, she knew that, and she was so desperately certain that there was a way to make him okay with the man she loved. But at every turn things had gotten worse not better. Had Ned been part of the problem? Well punching her father in the face had certainly not helped, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d more or less made him a stranger from his family all summer and he had been understanding and supportive every step of the way.

In return, trusting what they had built together over the last two years seemed like the very least she could do.

But then she thought of her senior year, at that party Robert had thrown, where Ned had kissed Ashara Dayne during spin the bottle and she’d spent the entire evening crying in the bathroom. And Catelyn felt cold and clammy and like she might want to throw up.

That’s what you get for eating a plate of loaded nachos from a pub called Murfees, Catelyn told herself grimly. Not to mention drinking all that beer. Ugh, not a story to share with her mommy group back in Winterfell. It’d be weeks before she felt safe to breast-feed again.

Did the thought of Ned and Ashara together trigger all sorts of stupid high school anxieties that she’d thought buried and gone forever? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. But that didn’t change the fact that it was Ned and she loved him and trusted him. They’d been together for years before they’d been married, had freely chosen each other above all others, had a foundation of a million shared experiences and laughs and tears. No stupid spiteful rumor was going to change that.

Catelyn stopped scrubbing the shampoo into her scalp and stood up straighter. Like she’d said at the bar, she was done playing the dutiful daughter, done trying to accommodate everyone and done trying to be so fucking deferential to everyone’s feelings but her own.

She found her uncle in the kitchen playing with Robb in the playpen.

“Was that you girls I heard coming home last night so late?” Brynden Tully teased, as Robb saw her and his whole face lit up.

“Mama!!” He fought free of his great-uncle’s grasp to toddle toward her.

“Oof,” Catelyn smiled as he collided with her full speed.

“He reminds me of Edmure at that age. No idea where he’s going but in a hurry to get there,” Brynden shook his head.

“Thank you so much for looking after him,” Catelyn pressed a kiss to the crown of her son’s head. “I thought it was going to be one night and then home early, but things... well escalated.”

She flushed as she again flashed on her and Lysa doing drunken karaoke on a bar top.

“I was happy to do it, Cat. You know I think it’s good for you to get some me time,” Brynden affectionately tugged at his niece’s still damp hair.

“Where is daddy?” Catelyn asked.

“Took off yesterday afternoon to play golf with Jon Arryn in King’s Landing. I guess they went out for drinks after and he was nervous about driving so decided to crash there. Looks like you weren’t the only one who needed some me time,” her uncle rolled his eyes. “You should really know better than to try and keep us under the same roof for extended periods.”

Catelyn let out a small sigh of relief even as she tried to smile at Uncle Brynden’s joke. If Jon Arryn had successfully kept him away from the gossip mill, that was one disaster averted.

“Anything wrong?” Brynden asked, arching an eyebrow at Catelyn knowingly.

“Just the usual drama with Daddy and Ned. Sometimes I get why you ran off,” Catelyn admitted.

“As I recall, I ran off to avoid a wedding, not have one,” Brynden chuckled. “Your father has never met an opinion worth considering over his own.”

“That’s not fair,” Catelyn protested tepidly but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Just because he loves you doesn’t mean he has the faintest idea what’s best for you,” Brynden said firmly. “Now since you’re up, I think this is my cue to leave.”

“You won’t stay for brunch?” Catelyn shot him her best puppy dog expression.

“If I leave now, this will be the first weekend I’ve spent with my brother in ten years that didn’t dissolve into an argument,” Brynden said. “I would do anything for you and Lysa and little Robb here, but there are some things you really shouldn’t ask of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Catelyn said sheepishly. “It’s just going to be dismal.”

“Chin up, Cat. I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge,” Brynden smiled.

Catelyn waved goodbye, and then set about getting herself and Robb dressed and ready. Having accomplished that, she realized her two siblings were still sound asleep with no sign of her father. Rolling her eyes, she went to turn Lysa and Edmure out of bed.

“I thought I’d be sadder about Petyr,” Lysa confided as she stretched her arms. “But I feel like there was a huge weight on my stomach and it’s finally been lifted.”

“Don’t you mean your shoulders,” Catelyn teased, to try and not think about Petyr and his smirking face coming toward her. Gods she missed Ned.

“No I mean my stomach,” Lysa said seriously. “I felt it right in here,” she poked her gut.

“Well just in time to eat brunch then. Now here, take Robb and get him into his car seat. Daddy texted and said he and Jon would meet us at brunch. And Edmure’s still in the shower and we should have left five minutes ago.”

They were fifteen minutes late to the restaurant, but only Rickard and Benjen Stark had gotten there before them.

“Let me see my grandson!” Rickard boomed, and lifted Robb from Catelyn’s arms. Catelyn looked around, but there was nobody else in the private room she’d reserved to eliminate outside stressors like people who objected to high chairs and the occasional temper tantrum.

“Where’s Brandon?” She asked Benjen quietly.

“He called to say he wasn’t coming... He and Barbrey had a HUGE fight last night,” Benjen pulled a face. Catelyn swallowed, thinking of the text Cersei had sent.

“Where is Ned?” She asked hopefully.

“Not here yet—I called him a couple times but his cell doesn’t seem to be working,” Benjen replied. Catelyn twisted her hands uncomfortably. Should she have stoped Cersei from sending that text? She wished Ned were here, she needed to find out what had actually happened with Ashara. He was still coming wasn’t he?

There the squeal of tires and the crunch of gravel from outside and the road of an impossibly loud engine.

“What is that?!” Rickard frowned.

“I’ll check,” Catelyn assured her father in law.

A candy-apple red convertible was parked in front. Ned, wearing an exceptionally wrinkled shirt was clambering out of the front, as Robert Baratheon handed him...

A child.

Catelyn, who had been half way out the door, mid stride to hurl herself into Ned’s arms, stopped short. Ned took the baby, said something to Robert who was grinning, and then turned and saw her silhouetted in the doorframe and froze.

Catelyn swallowed, aware that she was trembling like a leaf.

“Cat!” Ned covered the ground between them in an instant, kissing her temple, the boy in his arms a familiar impediment between them. Familiar and not familiar. Because this was not her boy.

“Is it true?” She blurted.

“True?” Ned gave her a puzzled smile.

She looked down at the baby.

“Oh! Cat, meet our nephew. Jon Snow.”

Her knees buckled and she sat down on the steps.

“Woah! Are you okay, hang on,” Ned carefully put Jon down and sat next to her, pressing his hand to her forehead even as his other hand found her own. “You feel clammy, are you sick?”

Catelyn gave him a tremulous smile. Nephew. Nephew. She could breathe.

“Everyone’s saying that you and Ashara had a baby,” she mumbled, leaning into his hand. “Cersei said it was nonsense, that it had to be Ashara and Brandon, and I believed her of course, but then when I saw you with him—why did you bring a baby to brunch? Why do you even have him??”

“Cat, Jon isn’t Brandon’s,” Ned took a deep breath.

“What?” Catelyn frowned, twisting to face him.

“He’s Lyanna’s.”

“Oh,” Catelyn looked down at the boy who was blinking back at her, with Lyanna’s dark hair and somebody else’s dark eyes.

“And the father?”

“Not in the picture. He was married, and from all accounts, a nasty piece of work.”

Catelyn swallowed.

“So you’re bringing your father a surprise grandchild from the daughter he hasn’t heard from in months to a brunch with my father who hates your guts. And Brandon isn’t here to play peacemaker because Cersei might have told a lot of people that he had a baby with Ashara and it got back to Barbrey...”

“Well when you put it like that,” Ned’s shoulders slumped and they sat side by side on the steps outside the restaurant, the two of them and their surprise nephew.

“Maybe Daddy will be in a good mood from playing golf all day yesterday,” Catelyn offered.

“Robert mooned him on the drive here,” Ned sighed. “He seemed quite peeved.”

There was a pause as Catelyn rested her head on Ned’s shoulder.

“We’ll get through this right?” Ned squeezed her hand.

“We will,” Catelyn said firmly. “Together.”

Hoster Tully entered some ten minutes later in a rare head of steam, towing a tired looking Jon Arryn, and practically spitting nails. If he noticed that Rickon Stark was looking decidedly unwell, he did not say anything.

“What is wrong with this generation?!” Hoster bellowed without preamble.

“Hi Daddy,” Lysa tried to give him a hug only to be brusquely shoved toward Jon Arryn who caught her and gave her a shy kiss on the cheek.

“You will not believe what just happened to me! On the highway, I was mooned!”

“Oh that’s terrible,” Catelyn said soothingly, hurriedly gesturing at the waiter to pour some wine. “It must have been very startling.”

“I knew that ass!” Hoster shouted.

There was a silence as Benjen Stark let out a stifled snort of laughter.

“Hoster thinks it’s the person who mooned him during the club championships ten years ago,” Jon Arryn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I KNOW IT WAS! I would recognize those bare buttocks anywhere!” Hoster snapped, draining the wine in one go.

“Got a good look did you?” Benjen snickered, and Ned shoot him a glare.

“I did!” Hoster said, oblivious to Benjen’s innuendo. “I was teeing off on the eighteenth hole, tied with Jonos Bracken for the lead. And you know how that man cracks under pressure,” he added in an aside to Jon and Rickard. “And then, right as I had taken my practice swing and had set up to the ball, I saw it!”

“He’s referring to the butt,” Jon Arryn, who had clearly heard this story many times, sighed.

“Bare and pale, almost luminous! Shining at me from the crowd! I looked away, I tried to focus on the golf ball, but it was too late! It was in my head!”

“He shanked his drive, had to take a penalty stroke and lost by two,” Jon Arryn rolled his eyes, bringing the story to an abrupt end.

“And then I had to get back surgery that winter! I never got my golf game back! That was my last chance to win the championship!” Hoster harrumphed, clearly displeased at having the punchline spoiled.

“You don’t know that it was the same ass,” Jon Arryn said.

“You were driving! You didn’t see it! I— seven hells, why are there two of them?” Hoster abruptly trailed off, having noticed for the first time that there were now two high chairs at the table, and two black haired little boys blinking at him.

“This is Jon, Daddy,” Catelyn said brightly as if the situation were perfectly normal. “Lyanna’s son.”

“I was not aware that Lyanna was er, married,” Hoster’s brow knitted as he shot a look at Rickard.

“She isn’t,” the Stark patriarch said stiffly, the first words he’d spoken in some time.

“This fucking generation,” Hoster glowered at all of them.

“Do you have something to say about my daughter?” Rickard growled, and Catelyn felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Even Benjen stopped snickering.

“I was thinking of getting the eggs Benedict!” Lysa blurted and Catelyn shot her a grateful look.

“That’s my favorite too!” Jon Arryn beamed at her.

“I’ll get the trout I suppose, although I doubt it’ll be anywhere NEAR as big as the one I caught up river from here...” Edmure launched into one of his fly fishing stories.

Catelyn allowed her shoulders to drop ever so slightly as the conversation merrily spun away from anything remotely resembling controversy.

The food came, and Catelyn busied herself getting the children set up for their own meal. Jon had his cousin’s appetite, she thought ruefully. Thank goodness she’d brought extra formula.

Hoster Tully had even commented approvingly on how well-behaved Robb had been all weekend (as if he hadn’t ditched him with his brother to play golf yesterday) when disaster struck.

There was a chime of a text from a phone. Hoster’s phone.

Her father reached for it.

“There‘s no cell phone usage allowed here,” Jon Arryn tried, but like a slow motion train wreck, Hoster waved him off and touched the screen.

“Why it’s Petyr Baelish,” Hoster frowned. “What on earth is he doing texting me?”

“Don’t Daddy—“ Lysa began as Catelyn stood, wondering frantically if she could get across the room to slap it out of his hand.

“Tell me Eddard,” Hoster said, and his voice matched Rickard’s earlier growl in intensity though it was louder. “Why did I just get a text saying that Jon is your son?”

“Don’t listen to Petyr!” Lysa protested. “He’s just mad because I told him we through yesterday because I’m dating Jon!”

“Excuse me?” Hoster said slowly.

“I was, um, going to mention that at some point,” Jon Arryn scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“You’re dating my daughter?!” Hoster sputtered, turning on him. Jon held his hands up.

“I admit this is poor timing, but that’s why I was going to wait to tell you! I didn’t think you’d be upset, only a month ago you were trying to set me up!”

“With Cat! I was trying to set you up WITH CAT!”

“Are you saying you were trying to undermine my son’s marriage?!” Rickard stood up. “I’ve put up with a lot of shit from you Hoster, but this is one step too far!”

“FIRST,” Hoster wheeled on Rickard, “forgive me for thinking your Cat could do better. Your son is an ambitionless hack who cheats on her! And SECOND,” he turned back to Jon before a Rickard could respond, “I wasn’t trying to set you up Lysa because she has her whole life ahead of her! Cat’s the one with limited options!”

Catelyn stood up, her face burning with something close to fury.

“I believe the phrase you’re looking for is damaged goods, Daddy,” she sneered.

“That—that’s not what I meant at all,” her father backpedaled.

“Isn’t it? Because you’ve taken every opportunity I’ve given you to bury the hatchet and twisted in and tried to undermine my marriage. MY FAMILY. Well I’ve had it. I’m done. This was your last chance. So before you shit on Lysa’s life too, maybe you should consider that you’re down to your last daughter. Ned, call Robert and have him pick us up. We’re leaving.”

“Um I don’t know that—“

“NOW!”

“Right, calling Robert,” Ned blurted, almost dropping his phone when he realized it didn’t work.

“Here,” Jon Arryn sighed and handed him his own.

“And for the fucking record,” Catelyn snarled at her father, “Ned had never cheated on me in his life.”

“Hi Robert, sorry to wake you up,” Ned said on the phone. “Can you pick me and Cat and the kids up? Like right now?”

“Catelyn, this is highly unnecessary,” Hoster blustered. Ned shot a hopeful look at Cat.

“It is in fact necessary. Some might say it is long overdue,” Catelyn said tightly as she loaded up Robb’s things.

“You belong with us! Not with this... this... pack of wolves!”

Hoster Tully might have said more, but that was when Rickard Stark punched him in the face.

When Robert pulled up to meet them some fifteen minutes later, Ned and Catelyn were waiting for him in the driveway to the restaurant, each with a dark haired boy in their arms.

“That was fast,” Ned commented. Robert shrugged.

“I just pulled over down the road to take a nap before I drove back to Oldtown. I take it brunch went... less than swimmingly?”

“Please take us to the airport, Robert,” Catelyn said curtly as she buckled little Jon into his car seat. “I have purchased us tickets on the first flight back to Winterfell.”

“Ouch,” Robert winced.

“Indeed,” Catelyn growled.

“Catelyn, can you hurry up?” Ned asked, already done with Robb. “We need to get out of here before...”

“Cat! WAIT!” A much worse for the wear Hoster staggered out of the restaurant. And then he froze.

“That’s the car!”

“Oh no,” Ned breathed, as Catelyn finished her work and shut the car door after her.

“Shit get in Ned,” Robert slid down in his seat, trying to evade Hoster Tully’s glare.

“THAT’S THE CAR THAT MOONED ME!”

“Gas Robert!” Ned slammed his own door.

Robert frantically slammed his foot down, and the car lurched in reverse across the parking lot.

“IF YOU CRASH THIS CAR WITH THESE CHILDREN IN IT I WILL KILL YOU!” Catelyn threw her arms protectively across both of them.

Across the parking lot, Hoster roared and began to charge.

“HE’S CHASING US!” Ned shouted. “GO GO GO!”

Robert frantically changed gears, and then they surged forward and out toward the exit, missing Hoster Tully’s outstretched arms by inches.

“BLINKER!”

“GO!”

“MIXED MESSAGES!”

The car swung out on to the empty road and then there was a moment of silence as the car sped away and they all simultaneously exhaled.

Catelyn cautiously looked over her shoulder.

“Have we lost him?” Robert asked.

“He’s gone,” Catelyn confirmed, checking that both boys were still buckled in. They were smiling, completely placidly, as if high pressure escapes from her father were all great fun.

“To the airport,” Robert shouted cheerfully and Ned cheered. Catelyn allowed a smile to cross her face.

“It’s over,” she said, feeling as if she’d run a marathon. “Finally, we can go home.”

“Well for two weeks,” Robert added. Catelyn’s eyes opened.

“Two weeks?” She repeated slowly.

“You’re coming back down for the wedding!”

Right. The wedding.

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