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buglife · 4 years ago

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Bend and Not Break - Ch 5: Epilogue - Hands Down

Read here on AO3 :3

As much as Quirrel enjoyed having a ‘break’, it was starting to get on his nerves.

Ever since he woke up from his pseudo coma two weeks ago, he had been doing nothing but lie in bed and get doted on every single second of the day. He understood why, he had inadvertently scared his family and friends after the assassination attempt and they were still worried. It was a close call, and Ghost especially was more protective than usual because of it. Even when the Knights cleared the doctors on duty, they had been reluctant to let any of them near him. He had to reassure his love that doctors tend to know what they are doing and to let them do their jobs. After getting actual doctors involved, he started to feel better. They at least weren’t like his mother, having bugs spy on him to make sure he stayed in bed. She was serious about her threat and he didn't dare test her.

He was also rather surprised to get an entire sack of mail just for him. All of them were well wishes from various citizens, happy to learn that he’ll be okay. He quickly realized that it would be impossible to personally reply to them all, so he got some retainers to write some thank you notes in return. His mother raised him to be polite, after all, and he was touched by the letter. He resolved to keep them as soon as he could figure out where to put them all.

He felt awful. For a while it hurt to breathe and move. Apparently, the poison affected his nerves and the constant spasms had caused some damage. The high fever did not help much either, and it took several days before he could function without pain medication. He had decided after everything was said and done, to never see soup again as long as he lived. He had consumed enough soup to last an entire lifetime, and if Ghost brought him one more bowl of soup he would throw said bowl out the nearest window. Ghost promised not bring any more soup...only to bring him a bisque for dinner that night.

Sometimes he thought that his mother has had an adverse affect on his spouse.

Thankfully, there wasn’t going to be any permanent damage from the poisoning. He would still be tired and weak for a while as his body worked to repair itself, but he wasn’t in danger anymore. The bed rest however, he wasn’t too fond of, not when there was so much to do still. Sure...he slept a lot...but it was the principle of the matter. He was perfectly able to sit up in bed and catch up on paperwork, but he wasn’t even allowed to do that.

How miserable it is, to be on a mandatory vacation, especially for a bug that was used to just...getting up and doing things.

The only good thing about it was that Ghost would carry him to their personal hot spring in the bathroom and they could spend some time together. Being so busy, they often only saw each other briefly through the day and only had an hour or so before bed before exhaustion claimed them both. It was nice to be able to just relax together, listening to random gossip and updating the various running betting pools. So far, Quirrel had 100 Geo riding on Lurien showing up to court high next time they arranged a meeting together. Ghost bet that he wouldn’t, but Quirrel knows Lurien and Lurien deals with social anxiety by removing social anxiety entirely. It was good to laugh again after such a tense week. Eventually, Ghost started taking up duties again while Quirrel’s health continued to improve.

There came the matter of the prisoners left alive, but Quirrel needed to talk to someone first before he made a decision.

Once he was cleared to walk around again, he and his spouse headed to one of the royal suites. Once doctors were cleared, Poppy the scorpion had been moved from protective custody in the dungeon up to a much nicer room to recover in. From what Quirrel understood from both Xena’s reports and Ghost’s commentary, Poppy was an innocent victim in all this. Venomous bugs tended to get quite a bit of discrimination despite how hard they worked to turn public opinion around. Times were changing for sure, one of the archive researchers, a bee-fly, had recently became engaged to her tarantula girlfriend. It was slow going, however, and he wanted to be sure that Poppy would be alright in the end.

He paused outside her door and knocked. “Remember dear, to be gentle with her. It’s probably going to be intimidating to meet with both rulers at once.”

Ghost nodded. “I’ll behave.”

“You better.” Quirrel smirked.

“Hello! Come in!” Came a the voice on the other side of the door. Ghost took the knob, turning it and opening the door for the both to step inside.

The scorpion was sitting in bed, looking much better than what Xena had first described. The softer parts of her chitin was returning to a healthy golden brown and much of her bandages have been removed. Her damaged eye had started to heal, and besides the odd crack or two in her shell, there wasn’t much visible indication of her harrowing ordeal. From was understood, she still needed plenty of rest and food, but she was well enough to finally go home with an escort from Deepnest.

She was clearly only expecting a doctor or someone else other than a royal, because as soon as she spotted the two kings her eyes widened and she started twitching.

“Oh! Oh I am so sorry!” She clasped her many hands together, eyes darting about as she wondered if she should bow or curtsy or anything else other than just sitting in bed. Quirrel held up a hand before she could work herself into a panic attack.

“It’s alright. We’re just here to check up on you.”

She tilted her head. “Really? Um…” She nervously fiddled her pincers together. “I’m... I’m sorry that this all happened. I never wanted to hurt any bugs, I swear!”

“You aren’t in trouble. We know this wasn’t your fault. You seem like a sweet bug, I’m sorry you had to go through all this.” Quirrel said kindly, taking a seat next to one side of the bed. Ghost took the other side and chirped in encouragement.

“We just want to make sure you will be okay, before my sister comes to help you back home.” Ghost signed each word slowly to make sure Poppy could see it with her bad eye. They patted one of her hands, attempting to show a bit of comfort without completely freaking her out.

“Thank you.” She sounded relieved, most likely she thought she was about to get thrown in the dungeon for her unwilling part in this. “It was really nice of you to give me this room until I felt better.”

“To be honest, you deserved at least something nice after all of that. We aren’t even your rulers and yet you refused to work willingly with the conspirators.”

“You weren’t even a warrior, you are a flower bug. It takes immense courage to stand up for what is right even in the face of pain and fear.”

The scorpion blushed blue from the praise, looking like she wanted to duck under the covers and hide, but didn’t out of social politeness. “Um...thanks...your majesties.” She squeaked, deciding instead to hide her face in her pincers for a moment. She was clearly not used to such comments.

Quirrel sighed, thinking of the best way to word the question he wanted to ask. “I apologize for having to bring up what you went through...but there is something we’d like to know, if you would be so kind to answer. We still have some of the conspirators in the dungeon, including the ring leader. If you had a choice, what would you do with them?”

“You mean...like...keeping them in jail or executing them?” She twiddled her claws in thought.

Ghost nodded. “Yes. Technically it would be up to us because of the treason and attempted regicide. But you were also hurt and you are not one of our citizens, and Deepnest deserves an opinion too. We would just like to know your thoughts.”

“Well...um...I don’t...I don’t want more bugs to die.” She shrank a little into herself as she collected her thoughts. “I mean, my momma always said that you can’t um…learn a lesson if you’re dead, ya know? Maybe they could still learn to be good bugs if someone taught them how, if that’s okay…”

Quirrel smiled. “Those are certainly wise words. We’ll take that into consideration when we make a final decision together.”

“We’ll leave you be for now, your escort will be here to collect you once we are done with our meeting. Is there anything else you need before then?” Ghost tilted their head in a smile, echoing their husband.

“No, you all have been so nice! Thank you so much!” She beamed. “I can’t wait to go home and check on my flowers!”

“Good, who knows, we might drop In to say hello sometime.” Quirrel laughed, leaning in closer to mock whisper. “Don’t tell anyone this, but Ghost’s sibling, Hollow, loves flowers. Their room is practically a jungle.”

“Hollow the Kind? Oh! Oh yes we get some really rare and pretty flowers! I’ll save a few for when you drop by!” Clearly this was the route to go, because now Poppy was vibrating in excitement. Her eyes sparkled, now more busy thinking about flowers than being nervous. “If their room is as big as this one, they might like some Strongylodon macrobotrys! Cypripedioideae might also be nice, there’s enough humidity for those!” She started muttering under her breath, scientific names and common names blending together as she thought aloud.

“Don’t worry, once you are situated and back in business, we’ll come take a look.” Quirrel put a stop to her rambling for now. “I’m afraid we must leave for now, but do send a letter to the palace once you are open again.”

“Thanks! I will!” She was practically shining in joy. Both Ghost and Quirrel gave her a polite little bow, and then left her on her own. She was alone within moments, with nothing to do now but to wait for her escort to take her home again.

She started to vibrate again. Inspiration was coming to her, and she cannot be stopped!

She wondered if she could get a hold of a Amorphophallus titanum, something told her that it was a flower that the royal family would get a kick out of for sure.

---

Hornet sat, awaiting her siblings and adopted brother within the meeting room. Two weavers sat with her, one on either side. She wished she could be here for a friendly visit, she honestly did miss her siblings. Alas, the work of a princess is never finished, and she did not envy her mother, the queen, in any way shape or form. Sure her mother commanded respect and power, but the sheer amount of shit she had to put up with in a day makes Hornet grateful that it’ll be a long time before she has to pick up the crown. She thankfully just had this one matter to finish and then she could go home and hide away from other bugs for a while.

Unfortunately, she was stuck with Tiso, who kept making faces at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“Tiso, if you keep doing that, I will pull that tongue right out of your mouth.” She hissed, but her words weren’t completely full of malice. She fingered the needle in her hands, the urge to stab rising.

“Sorry, I’m already in a committed relationship.” He replied, grinning widely. “I don’t think my girls would like that.”

“I would stab you in the head, but I think I would miss your brain from how small it is.”

“Why do you have to be so mean, Hornet.” Tiso fake pouted. “I happen to have a nice brain...I think.”

“Because someone in this family has to be the mean one, and I take on that position with pride.” She bared her own fangs at the ant. She had more fangs than a spider ought to have for sure. Tiso however, had no fucks to give and thus wasn't intimidated at all.

Before Tiso could antagonize her further, the door to the room opened and in strolled the two rulers of Hallownest. Ghost made a beeline to Hornet, swiftly grabbing her up in a hug and purring loudly. “Sister!”

The weavers sighed, now used to all this. At first they freaked the fuck out when the eldritch god of a king picking up their crown princess and hugged her. Even more when they first heard the weird voice in their heads that belonged to said king. Now, it was routine.

“Hello, Ghost.” Hornet wheezed, getting thoroughly smooshed. With practiced ease, she wiggled herself out of their grip and dropped gracefully to the floor. She turned to regard the pillbug approaching her. “Hello Quirrel, I’m glad to see that you aren’t dead. I would have been quite disappointing in you if you died without my sibling’s express permission.”

He laughed and gave her a quick hug. “As if a little poison alone would kill me.”

“You’re a tougher bug than what I gave credit for.” She stepped back once the pleasantries were out of the way. “It boons well not only for my sibling, but for relations between our kingdoms.”

“You just say that because your mother loves watching you kick my ass up and down the village.” Quirrel sighed and took a seat at the table.

“She does enjoy seeing Deepnest having an equal and honorable relationship with the current diarchy.” She smoothly said, all but confirming Quirrel’s statement as she sat down as well. “It’s much easier to come to a mutual understanding when one honors the traditions and customs of the kingdom they are visiting. Only a bug willing to back up their words through conviction is worthy of mother’s time of day.”

“Yeah, but Herrah also gives us cookies after you beat us up. I didn’t know that was part of Deepnest’s honorable traditions.” Ghost added, sitting next to Quirrel and giving him a quick nuzzle.

“Of course it is!” Hornet snorted, tilting her head to the side and adding some amusement to her voice. “Only the worthy get cookies.”

“Am I worthy enough to get a cookie?” Tiso piped up.

“No.” She hissed.

“Mean.” He retorted, going back to guarding the door with a sigh.

“I believe we should get down to the nature of this meeting,” Quirrel finally cut in, arranging the quill and papers on the table. “Not only are you here to retrieve your citizen, but also to represent your mother in the discussions about the prisoners responsible for her harm.”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat, going into princess mode. “Under current Deepnest law, via our new treaty, citizens from Hallownest that commit crimes in Deepnest are to be extradited to Deepnest for punishment, and vise versa.”

“Well that makes things easier for sure.” Quirrel scribbled on a spare piece of paper. “We have prisoners directly responsible for the abduction and torture of your citizen. I believe Herrah already came to a decision on what is to become of them?”

“Yes. Ghost sent the letter a week ago, it gave mother plenty of time to think.” Hornet reached into her cloak, pulling out a letter written on spider silk. She slid it across the table for both Ghost and Quirrel. “She formally requests that the prisoners be transported to our dungeon, where they will be judged and tried by our people.”

“It will be done.” Ghost looked to Tiso and nodded. “Can you run that order down to the dungeons?”

“Sure, Squib.” Tiso saluted, and then was gone.

Hornet looked at Ghost with a frown after the ant departed. “You shouldn’t let him keep calling you ‘squib’ and the like, you are his king and he should respect you enough to use your title, even if you adopted him.”

“Can’t.” They just shrugged in response. “Big brother rights. It’s law.”

“I’m afraid that it’s true.” Quirrel nodded solemnly. “Especially since you let Hollow call you...what was it now? Their ‘Special Spooder Sister?' I’m guessing we should tell them to add a ‘Princess’ to that as well.”

“It’s okay love, clearly she wants to be referred to her proper title, Princess Angey Spooder. I apologize for not using it earlier, dear sister.”

“Next time we have an event, we will alert the guards to announce you with your proper title, Princess Precious Paws. Please excuse our ignorance.”

“OKAY, I GET IT.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I’ll shut up about the nicknames!”

Both diarchs struggled to contain their laughter and were quickly losing. Quirrel was the first to crack, and quickly dragged Ghost down with him as they laughed.

The weaver guards looked at Hornet, who only returned a sigh and a head shake. “Yes yes, I exist to provide amusement to the both of you. Are we done here?”

Ghost snorted and wiped their eyes, reining in the lingering giggles. “Yeah, just be sure you are here next weekend for Sibling Day.”

“As if I would miss Hollow’s cooking.” She replied with a curt nod of her head. “Now, I will collect my wayward citizen and return to Deepnest. On behalf of Queen Herrah, Deepnest thanks you for your cooperation and care in regards of one of our own.”

“Hallownest is more than happy to work with Deepnest on whatever they need.” Ghost sat up straight and bowed their head, acting the part of a reining diarch. They tilted their head back up slightly, a hint of mayhem within as they looked directly at Hornet. “I will be sure to write a letter to Herrah, thanking her for allowing her most esteemed and beloved daughter to visit us, her Highness Princess Stabby Spider.”

It took all of Hornet’s grace and self control to NOT start a diplomatic incident. But boy...did she want to.

---

Quirrel looked over the crowd, spouse standing beside him as he once again found himself on a podium. Bugs were crowded in the streets and hanging off the buildings, all looking at him as he spoke. It was the same speech he had written what seemed like ages ago, but it seems like this time he’d be allowed to finish it. Any ounce of nervousness was squashed by a cool hand in his, squeezing once in a while to remind him that his spouse was there. It was very welcome, as he felt the constant urge to look to the rooftops of the buildings around them, ready to dodge in case another crossbow bolt came his way.

There were certainly more guards than usual, but it was understandable. He highly doubted another assassination attempt would be possible with how many guards were out and about. Most of the citizens didn’t seem to mind, watching and listening with smiles as he continued to prattle on. He didn’t feel like standing here all day, he had plans.

“And so we formally declare that the Hallownest Memorial Greenhouse is now open to the public! Feel free to inside and have a look! Thank you all for coming today, and we hope you all enjoy it!”

Finally, it was done. Ghost leaned against him as they watched the citizens filter into the multi-story greenhouse. They seemed to be having a good time, and they obviously didn’t need the two rulers to keep hanging around if not needed anymore.

“You know what,” Came the whisper of Ghost’s voice in Quirrel’s head. “Since we are done here...why don’t we do something?”

“Like what, dear?” Quirrel stretched, working out the kinks from standing up for so long.

“We could do something...spicy.” There was a devilish edge to their tone, a hand reaching around to squeeze his side. “We don’t have anything we have to do, we got plenty of time to...experiment a little.”

The pillbug couldn’t help but shiver a little, flashing a grin. “Oh ho...feeling adventurous today, are we?”

“I am.” Ghost reached down to scoop up their husband, not caring on who was watching the amount of tooth-rotting romance going down. “Let’s not waste any time, I’ve been wanting to do this with you for ages.”

Quirrel grinned, this was going to be fun.

---

“Ghost! Don’t rub your eyes after handling the peppers!”

A sharp echoing noise of pain leaked through the closed door and drifted into the hallways, stopping a pair of retainers in their tracks. They stood still for a moment, listening, unsure if they were going to be needed. They could hear one of their kings talking and the other apparently flailing around and knocking things over.

“Why the hell did you buy Dragon’s Breath peppers then? They are supposed to burn!”

A few dishes shattered and there came a slosh of water.

“Love! Stop! I’ll rinse out your- WAIT, BE CAREFUL WITH THE STOVE-”

A bright flash of yellow illuminated the bottom crack of the door and smoke began to drift from under it. There came quite a bit of commotion at that, and they could hear the occupants inside run about and knocking even more things over.

One retainer looked to the other. “What the hell is going on?”

“They are trying to cook.” Replied the other. “I don’t think it’s going well.”

“What gave you that idea?” The first sarcastically snarked, watching the smoke get a little thicker.

The second sighed. “Wait here, I’ll go get the fire extinguishers.”

[The End]

-------

The end :D Thanks for being patient, my now fiancé was visiting and I didn't get much time to write! Now I'm back on track.

Chapter title comes from this song which is so romantic and sweet and it makes me think of two people genuinely in love and all the silliness it entails. These two especially, being NERDS.

What happened to the ones involved with the assassination plot that didn't get sent to Deepnest? They are down in the waterways, hand scrubbing that all clean. No mops, just good ol' buckets and sponges. Poppy did say that just killing someone means that they will never learn the lesson they needed, so both Ghost and Quirrel took that into consideration and put their asses to work to better the kingdom. Maybe after a few decades the lesson will be fully learned >)

ALSO if you are cooking with hot peppers, be sure not to touch your eyes, mouth, or nose, or it will BURN.

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fortheboyzzz · 4 years ago

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Cory Danvers

Kara & Cory

Genre: Angst

Summary: This is just based off part of his backstory.

Trigger warning: Death and mentions of depression

Cory and Kara were at her apartment, eating pizza that he had picked up on his way from work.

“You know, I’m actually kinda thinking of dropping out school.” he said, casually through a bite of pizza.

Kara’s eyes widened and she sat up.

“I’m just not so sure about sociology anymore, but honestly it’s not that big of a deal, my boss loves so it won’t be hard convincing him to work fulltime. And don’t worry, I’ll give the money back to Mom-- Eliza, sorry.”

“No, you can call her that, it’s alright.”

"Really? I see the look on your face every time I do. it bothers you.”

“Okay, maybe a little bit, but I understand. Also I think you should give dropping out some more thought.”

Just then, both their ears caught the sound of danger.

she shot up and looked at him. “Don’t think we’re not coming back to this conversation.”

The two changed into their suits and rushed to the crime in action where a large alien was rampaging the streets.

They nodded at each other before both charging at it. The alien swung an arm and Cory ducked and Kara punched it in the face, causing it to stumble back. It shook its head then angered even more and it lunged at them again. The heroes took turns giving and taking blows. Overall it seemed like they had it handled, up until a certain point.

The alien grabbed a hold of Cory and flung him against a building. Then, of course in relation, Kara knocked it back several feet. Cory got back on his feet, shaking the bits of dust and rubble off him, and just as he got back into his fighting stance the alien picked a car up and hurled it at Kara as she was hurrying civilians off the streets.

“Watch out!” he called out.

Without even thinking, he flew at the car to catch it but ended up hitting it in a different direction towards a group of four civilians. It all happened so fast. Before Cory realized his mistake, it was too late and he along with the other civilians that were there froze as they stared at the horrible sight.

Kara looked at her brother, with shook and concern, but still having to deal with the issue a hand she had to go back to fighting the alien, only to see that Cory disappeared when she glanced back at him.

After that, Cory basically locked himself away in his apartment. Days turned into weeks of just lying in bed and letting his voicemail fill up, anything he could do to hide from the rest of the world.

Cory was on his couch, the news on in the background. Not that he was paying any attention to it, he was far too trapped in his own thoughts. Then, he heard the sound of keys jangle at the door.

“Jesus,” he heard Alex say. “When was the last time you cleaned?”

He lifted his head to look at her then lied back down.

She sighed, placing the take out she brought over down, and started to tidy up around the place. “You know, it would be nice if you could return one of Kara’s calls. She worried about you.”

“I don’t feel like talking to her,” he mumbled.

“Well it would help if you at least talked to someone.”

“I could talk to the police.”

“Hey, don’t say that.”

“Why not? I’m a murderer..”

Alex sighed once more and sat with him. She rested a hand on his leg, “Look, you’ve always had a good heart, what happened doesn’t change anything—”

“Look, Alex, I appreciate you checking up on me, but I really just wanna be alone right now.”

Alex said nothing else in protest of him, she knew there was nothing else much she could say to make him feel better. Instead she just nodded and got up to leave. “I got you something from that burger joint you like. Just make sure you eat, okay?”

. . .

Kara showed up at Cory’s door as soon as got off of work. It was driving her crazy that her own brother wasn’t talking to her at all, especially after seeing the look on his face when the accident happened, and then having to hear about it all around at CatCo. She tried her best to give him time and space, but then after hearing Alex tell her what kind of state he was in, she couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Cory, I know you’re in there, open the door.” she said after knocking for the third time. “Please don’t make me bust down the door.”

Soon enough she heard the turning of the lock and Cory emerged in a pair of sweatpants and a sweater that looked like he lived in them for days. “What do you want?” he said, walking away from the door right after he opened it.

“I want to know that my little brother— who has been ignoring my calls, might I add— is okay.”

“You don’t have to do that. Alex already checked up on me.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. That’s why I’m here.”

“To do what?” he snapped, turning to her. “This isn’t like that time in my freshman where I crushed that guy’s hand and I was too scared to touch anybody for a month. You can’t just give a pep talk time.”

“Cory. It was an accident.” she said in that nurturing tone of hers.

“I killed people, Kara. That’s not just some accident!”

“It was a one time thing, you didn’t mean to. It’s not like it’s gonna happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t happen again. Because Kryptoboy doesn’t exist anymore.”

Kara looked taken aback. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Everybody hates me, a-and to be honest I never wanted any of this in the first place. The only reason why I became Kryptoboy was because you dragged me into it.”

“I thought you wanted to be Krytoboy..”

“I just wanted to be normal!” he cried. “Then you started talking and you said how this could be our chance to be Kryptonian again, but to be honest between all those years in the pod and on earth, I don’t even think I remember Krypton. I know you miss Krypton but you can’t expect me to feel the same way. Earth was supposed to be our chance to start over, and that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past eleven years. I’m not Cor-el and I’m not Kryptoboy. I just wanna be Cory Danvers, okay? Cory Danvers is a good person, he’s nice, he helps people, h-he would never hurt anybody.” he choked on those last words as tears got caught in his throat.

Kara sighed and pulled him in for a hug where he broke down. She held him close as he cried into her shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck in a soothing motion. “I’m sorry.” After a moment, she pulled away and looked into his sad puffy eyes. “I think you should go visit Eliza for a bit.”

He sniffled and nodded. As much as he wanted to be alone before, he knew it was probably best to get out of National City and go home for a while. Plus, being in his old bed did seem nice right about now.

Cory gathered himself and together he and Kara went to go pack a suitcase before driving to Midvale the next day.

Tags: @eliotsbambimargo, @stewie-castle

#kara & cory #oc imagine #cory danvers imagine #kara danvers imagine #supergirl #angst #tw death #tw deppresion

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a-crash-in-time-collection · 3 years ago

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Chapter 9: Trouble with Platinum 101

Platinum just barely managed to catch the black and red cat as it was flung back to him. He held him close, eyes swirling as the rain continued to pour from the lights above. If it wasn't for the large lighting bolt, he would have been able to think of something. He seized as he heard footsteps, looking up at the purple haired teen. They offered him a smile, handing over a yellow candy like item, which he took greatly.

Before he had the chance to say anything in return, the world faded to black. For a few minutes, it was just that, He couldn't move, couldn't talk. He could hardly think. Then suddenly, orange words appeared in front of his vision, although it did not spook him. "Ending Artificial Simulation" it read, before switching to "Exiting Sleep Mode". Platinum's vision was tainted orange as he opened his eyes, all the necessary data finding its place.

He let out a small smile, as he reached for the back of his head. With a small pull, the charger came out, and he placed it to the side. He shut the back of his head, before pushing himself out of his new charging area faintly. He wanted to just charge in his room, but it was still risky to be in there all alone. Still, he wasn't going to let anything as small as that bugged him as he raced out of the orbital station walls.

It was sunny outside, him having to hold a hand to his head as his vision adjusted. As soon as his eyes adjusted though, his goal was in sight. He raced over to where the tent was, ready for the fun to be had that day. Sure, there wasn't much to do around the station right now, but they were always one step ahead of boredumb. He got to where the opening was, and after a few seconds, opened it to say hello to Hat Girl.

Only to find she wasn't there. "Huh?" The topbot said, a bit confused. She was normally up at this time, but he figured she would still be in her tent. He glanced around to see if he could spot her among the other toppats, but found nothing. The only clue he had was his father, who could be seen talking to Herb. With nothing else he could do, he walked over to the two, although Herb left after a nod.

"Dad?" Platinum asked, getting the attention of the toppat clan leader. "Have you seen Hat Girl around? I went to greet her at her tent, and she wasn't there. I don't know where else she could be."

"Oh. She isn't here right now." Reginald said, looking over. Platinum's face turn to a mix of shock and confusion, as he tried to think of how to ask what he needed to ask. Hat Girl was just gone? And Dad wasn't freaking out. "She wanted to check how that movie you and her were in was going. So she and Righty went to go see earlier. They should be back soon, however." Reginald gave his son a small smile.

"They could have at least asked me if I wanted to come!" Platinum said, sighing as he crossed his arms. "I know I shouldn't be hanging with her all the time, but it's my program purpose to be with her. And things have been getting boring around here without her..."

"Well, you could always help remove some things from storage until she gets back." Reginald offered the topbot. He instantly shook his head at the offer, that was work, how was that supposed to help him? All he would likely end up doing was complaining the whole time, and he wasn't shy to admit that fact. Reginald shook his head with a sigh. "Well, the only other thing I can suggest is go hang out with the other teens."

Platinum huffed, but soon sighed. "Fine..." He walked away from his father, to where most of the other teens were. It wasn't that he didn't like the other teens, because that wasn't true. He liked a lot of them! He just never spent time one on one with them. Most of the time they interacted, was because his sister wanted to talk with them. Besides, Hat Girl was all he needed to have fun after all. Why waste time that could be spent with her, or time that could be used to steal a tank.

He decided to not get involved with the conversation they were all having, although he did listen in as too have something to think on. Most of them did share a similar mindset with him, things were starting to get boring. There were only so many days that the wonder of being on another planet alone could last. Some wanted to train, others wanted to play some games. But they all had something they wanted-

"Platinum?" The topbot nearly jumped as he looked over at the source of the voice. A familiar figure with purple hair glanced at him, the black hat with a small purple, white, black, and yellow flag. Some small bits of glitter on the flag shining in the sunlight. "Are you ok? Aren't you normally here with your sister? Where is she anyway?" They asked, scanning around in confusion.

"Oh, she's somewhere else today, Van." Platinum said, giving the teen a smile. They had joined the clan a few months before that pink haired man broke into the airship. A runaway from home, from the few details he was able to get through conversation. Van was the main exception when it came to Platinum interacting with others on a regular basis. "Dad says her and Pops will be back soon, although knowing our luck it's gonna be a few hours."

"Oh, well, I'm sure they'll be ok." Van said, a small smile on their features. "I'm uhh, sorry about that Rotom comment I made to you the other day. I was just in a bit of a silly mood, and you gave me the perfect chance to say something."

"Hey, in your defense, I shouldn't have recited that one moive's pick up line."

Van snorted. Before laughing, Platinum followed suit a second later. The other teens would glance over confused, but most just shrugged it off and went back to what they were talking about before. Eventually, Van stopped their laughter, wiping a tear from their eye. "Still, I could have handled it better. I knew you were just messing around, after all." Van said, glancing back at the topbot with a faint smile.

"Yeah... I'm a topbot so there was no way it could have been serious." Platinum stated, shurrging. Yet each time he looked at Van, there was always a small, strange feeling inside of him. It was worse when he first laid eyes on them, but thankfully it calmed down... he sighed and glanced to the side. "I hate being without Hat Girl. Yes, I can go times without being near her, but those times I-"

"Had something better to do other then just stand around?" Van finished.

"Exactly!" Platinum said, throwing his hands in the air to show his point. Van rolled those pretty blue eyes of theirs, letting out a small chuckle. Platinum sighed as he kicked at the ground, his metal feet ruining the harmony of the grass. "If only I had something better to do. Something fun, something troubling..." His eyes gain a fainter glow, as if an idea had entered them. "Something with spray paint."

"Platinum, I don't think now would be the best time to spray paint the place." Van stated, although there was some confusion in their voice. "Honsently, I'm surprise your parents haven't ban spray paint from the clan yet because of you."

"No, not spray paint stuff here!" Platinum said, before grabbing Fan's hand, failing to notice the blush that appeared. "Van, you are my Hattie for the day. Let's go!" Platinum raced off through the woods, dragging the teen behind him. It was mostly silent, and they very rarely made a turn. Eventually, they came across the sea, where a few boats had now been parked alongside the old boat they first used.

"Huh? I thought there was just one boat." Van said. They paused when Platinum hopped into one, jestering from Van to follow him. "What are you planning? Your Dads are going to kill us." They stated, although reluctantly went over to the boat. They didn't know their way back, after all.

"Oh, they don't have to know this part. We'll just tell them we got lost in the woods." Platinum said, pulling them into the boat. "As for the new boats, well, Dad and Pops agreed that it would take too long to go grab lots of supplies from one place and bring it back to the old one. So Pops went a few nights ago and stole a few of these boats from mafia town." He shrugged. "Said they weren't using them anyway."

"Oh." Van said, before slowly looking for a place to sit. They didn't know what happened to them that day in that town, but if RHM had a hit list, it seems the mafia's boss would be near the top. "You aren't planning on taking us there, are you?" They looked up at Platinum, his grin answered for him. "I... guess I don't have a choice in this matter?"

"Maybe next time." Platinum said, shrugging as he started the boat's engine, it zipping off into the distiance. Van just sighed, adjusting their hat as they glanced out at the boat. If they knew they were going to be dragged somewhere today, they would have brought a good book to read along the way. It was nice to just see the water though, although once some splashed in their face. "Whoops, sorry. Must have set the speed too fast."

"Knowing you? Yeah." Van said, shrugging as they wiped the water off their face. Platinum chuckled guiltily, as Van adjusted their seat. It shouldn't take too long, but it would be good to relax while they still could.

Eventually, the caws of seagulls alert the two of their dictation, as Platinum went to slow down the engine. "Best we park at a beach. Should be a breeze to get it out of the sand if we go too far." Platinum said. Van let out a grone and ducked to the floor, bringing their hat over there head faintly to help shield it from any harm. There was a faint shake, but for the most part everything seemed fine.

Van slowly got up, peaking their eyes over the edge of the boat. "You actually managed to park it?" They asked, the surprise in their voice fully on display. It wasn't even that far into the sand, it would take a good push later but nothing bad. "I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting that. We all know how bad you are when it comes to driving tanks."

"Hey, if Dad and Pops let me drive a tank a bit more often, I wouldn't have crashed into that one wall." Platinum said, rolling his eyes as he glanced around. He hoped out of the boat, giving a hand to Van as he helped them out. Van looked around, a bit imitated but also in a bit of awe at everything. "Besides, it's not my fault they make those things so hard to control in the first place."

"Maybe because they're meant to be handled by experts?" A voice called, making Van jump slightly. Platinum turned his head to where a cave was, a bit surprised to see Mustache Girl there. "I don't know much about those things, but I know not to mess with them... anyone should." She said, crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry, but when you make a machine that is built for chaos, shiney, and a good place to get away from a zombie apocalypse, the chaos making robot is going to like it." Platinum said, rolling his eyes. He was tired of people not understanding him. Besides, it's not like he could be hurt, with his metal flesh and all. "It's partially in my coding at this point. You could argue tanks are imprinted in almost every important way of life!"

"...Yeah, sure you can." Mu said, rolling her eyes faintly. She had been woken up by the crash, and was much too tired to be dealing with this. "Hey, who's that guy- err... person behind you? Don't tell me you two have another sibling." She sighed.

"Oh, no. As cool as that would be, Pops said two was his maximum." Platinum chuckled slightly, as he awkwardly glanced at Van behind his back. Van gained a slight blush and glanced to the side, as if a bit embarrassed to be hiding from someone like a child. Platinum coughed faintly, before looking back at Mu. "Anyway. Mu, this is Van. They're a good friend of mine and Hat Girl's. They're a bit shy though."

"Platy." Van whispered, before coughing and glancing at Mu. They had recalled seeing her the night that cat brought over the food, but never really got the chance to speak to her. Not that they wanted too. They slowly came out from behind the topbot's back. "Uh, h-hello there. I'm Van, although I guess you al-already knew that."

"Yeah." She said, sighing slightly. Why did it seem like she was destined to run into the Toppats every so often. It would be better to just avoid them all, mainly to avoid her. Hat Girl didn't seem to hold anything against her, and seemed to enjoy her company? It made no sense in her mind. Speaking of which. "Where is Hat Girl? Shouldn't you be with her, Platinum?" Mu asked, raising a brow.

"Oh, she went to check on how our movie was doing, without me." He said, mumbling the last part. Really, he would've had enough battery. How hard was it to remove the charger from his head, wake him up, and have him tag along. "Dad said she was likely to return 'soon', but adults almost always end up being wrong when they use the word soon. It's almost like everything for them is meant to take forever."

"Yeah, it's always a bit of a nightmare." Van added quietly, glancing to the side. All those hours they must have spent waiting to get home to do school work while at a store felt like years looking back. They shook their head, there wasn't any use in thinking about the pass anymore, as they glanced at Mu. "S-So, uh, what are you doing up this early?" They asked. If they were going to be here, might as well be part of the conversion.

"I'm... just doing my rounds earlier than normal." Mu answered. It was a lie, but sounded much better then. 'You just woke me up from my nap in my cave which is my only home'. "I should be asking you something similar? What are you even doing here? There's no business reason, after all."

"Oh, well, things were boring at the crashed orbital station, partly because it was, well, crashed." Platinum said, shrugging as he glanced at the hero of mafia town. He didn't really know any better way to put it. "So we're going to cause some trouble here!"

"Is trouble alone your only personality? If it is, why not cause it somewhere else?" Mu asked, giving a glare that wipe that dumb grin off Platinum's face. There were already too many thieves in Mafia town, most of the place had them! She didn't need to deal with two more today. Or ever, if she was exact. "Why not have gone to that ghost's woods. I'm sure he would have loved you there, with all your trouble."

"She does have a bit of a point." Van said to the topbot, although they didn't think it mattered to him.

"Oh, don't worry, we meant trouble for the mafia! The other people here already have too much to deal with." Those were words most would assume a toppat would never say. Despite being a criminal clan, the toppats tried to have some morals about what they did. And not stealing from those already having a hard time was a personal rule lots of the clan followed. "Hat Girl mection before how you spray painted a hot air balloon before."

"Well, yeah... that was a small phase of mine." She said, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly. She paused, wondering briefly if Hat Girl had liked the artwork, but shook her head as soon as it entered her mind. Why did it matter if she saw it? "I wanted to annoy some mafia so I took some spray paint from them and repainted one of their best balloons. It was always a reminder to not mess with me."

"So, you know where the spray paint is then?" Platinum asked, a small facepalm came from Van.

Mustache Girl sighed, there wasn't any way to get out of this bot messing everything up, was there? "It's around a corner of a building that way, somewhere."

"Thanks!" And just like that, the topbot raced off. "Van wait here!"

"Platinum, I..." Van said as they watched the Topbot raced off, before glancing at Mu.

"Well... this is awkward." Mu said, glancing to the side. After about a minute of waiting, it was clear the topbot wouldn't be back soon enough.

Van let out a shaky sigh. They couldn't just stand here like this. It looked bad on them, maybe? Besides, Mu looked like she could be friendly. They slowly walked over to her, rubbing the back of their head. "S-So, uh, how are things with the mafia?" They gave her a faint smile.

Mu sighed. "Same old, unfortunately." She crossed her arms and glanced down at the sand. She felt a small fist forming. "I was so sure I would have gotten them all out by now yet they're still here!"

"I'm sure that's annoying... but don't you have cops here?" As soon as the words left their mouth, they those were the wrong choice of words. The slight glare they got confirmed that.

"If we did, they clearly didn't do their job!" She said, voice almost a shout. Van flinched slightly from it, which Mu took note of and glanced to the side. She didn't mean to scare them, not really. She just hated it when people brought up the past of this place. "Although, they wouldn't have been able to handle all these bad guys at once anyway. It was almost like they came to take this humble little place over..."

"I'm sorry to hear about that.." Van spoke up, shaking gone from their voice. They hated hearing stories like this, always had. "This place looks so lovely as well... but hey, at least I heard something about the leader of theirs being in bad condition. I bet you must be happy about that." They said, chuckling.

"I mean, it was fun to stuff his remains in a jar." Mu said, chuckling faintly as Van facepalmed at the words. That sounded far worse then what happened to Right Hand Man, and she was just talking about it like it was a fun memory? They didn't want to be rude, but there was something wrong in this girl's head. "But at last, that wasn't enough to have his soul leave this realm." She sighed. "They've gotten around the jar situation now."

"Hello everyone, I am back!" Platinum said dramatically as he hopped over. His jacket was bloated, full of all the spray paint cans he couldn't fit in his arm. "I was thinking we spray the place with neon colors next to monotone colors. That really bugs the sight after all!" He said, grining.

"That.. is actually not that bad of an idea. But we can only do it on Mafia buildings!" Mu said quickly, getting a chuckle from the topbot. Van walked back over to Platinum, taking one of the spray paint cans from the hood. They turned it to the ocean, letting a small bit out to check if it was working. "You know, the one mafia has an observatory to watch for aliens, maybe you could spray paint that."

"Why not join us?" Platinum asked, looking at her. "It is your idea after all. Besides, we'll need someone to fight any mafia that tries to stop us!"

"Stop us?" Van asked, nervously.

"I mean, I suppose I can't allow Hattie's brother to get hurt." Mu said, sighing and nodding.

"Let's go then!" Platinum said, beginning to race to the observatory. Mu didn't tell him where it was, but he did recall a blue tower he tried to climb when he and Hat Girl had headed to the HQ of the mafia, so he logically concluded that was it. A rare moment of him actually using logic, if you will. He would giggle as Van did their best to keep up, Mu taking some time behind them both. Somehow, no mafias noticed them.

Eventually, they got to the Observatory. As Platinum dumped all his spray cans onto the ground, Van took a breath and sat down for a moment. "I always thought I was decently fast, but I guess I'm wrong. Either that, or the lack of losing energy makes you faster." Van guessed.

"Hehe, sorry about that Van." Platinum said, rubbing the back of his head. Hat Girl was almost always able to keep up with his energy, he forgot it wasn't just adults who weren't like that. He glanced at the spray paints, starting to organize them into two piles: bright and neon, and everything else. "If we ignore color theory, that means dark brown covered by bright green and yellow will sting the eyes, right."

"To be fair, you always ignore color theory." Van said, chuckling as Platinum shrugged. He glanced over at Mu, tossing her a can. Van soon got up, going over and garbing one of the cans. "Well, the sooner we get started, the sooner we can get home, I suppose." They said, spraying the walls.

"Alright..." Mu said, garbing a mask out from a pocket and placing it on. She didn't remember if using spray paint without one was ok or not, but decided not to take the risk. She briefly wondered if she should ask Van if they wanted one, but then her mind began to wonder something else. She tried to shake it from her mind but... "Platinum... How is Hattie anyway? Nothing bad has been happening with her lately, right?"

"Huh?" Platinum said, glancing at her with a confused look. He processed her words as he switched from the dark color he was using to a brighter color. Van glanced away as soon as he started spraying, which was a good sign. Well, for when the mafia saw it at least. "Oh, yeah! She's been fine. Nothing she couldn't handle has happened or anything." He said.

"Oh... good then, I suppose." Mu said. She seemed to start spraying the building faster, to the point where Platinum had to stop and admire the speed. "I'm mean, it's not like a care to much or anything."

"Really? Because it seems like you care a lot." Van stated, tilting their head as they looked at her.

"Yeah, well, I guess when your former partner turned rebel shows up out of the blue years later, you get curious." Mu said, glancing to the side faintly. "Especially when they just want to be friends again. I nearly killed her! It... doesn't make any sense."

"Ehh, Hat Girl is like that." Platinum said, shurgging. "She always been very forgiving of people, at least from what I've seen. The only one not on her forgiven list we know of is that pink haired man." He sighed as he glanced to the side. "That was a rough time for both of us. Pops had to be turned half metal to survive, and Dad was locked away from us."

"I'm... sorry to hear that." Mu said, glancing over faintly. She glanced down at the ground, as if debating something. "She's so lucky that she found a good place to stay... a family to take care of her and love her." She chuckled. "I'm honestly surprised I haven't met her boyfriend yet."

"Oh, she doesn't have one yet." Van said.

"Wait, really?" Mu asked, glancing over surprised. "I mean, your Dads are like the leaders of your clan, right? You think boys would be doing everything they can to get with her... Cuz it would basically be like high school, right?"

"I mean, I'm not sure how high schools work here, but it seems to be the same in that regard." Van said before sighing. "Those years were a freaking nightmare. I envy the other teens sometime."

"Really, isn't high school just like a musical, just minus the music." Platinum asked.

"Didn't you have to run into the bathroom once while your family was watching one of those movies, and they heard you going 'Why does Troy look so cute?'" Van asked, raising a brow. Platinum took a step back, and covered his face.

"H-Hey, that was a malfunction! I'm a robot, I can't feel stuff like that!" He defended himself, and looked in Mu's direction. "Long story short, we think she's more into girls than guys, but don't know for sure."

"Girls... huh.. good for her then.." Mu said, glancing down at the ground. She slowly picked up another spraycan, before glancing over with a shrug. Platinum noticed the faintest hint of pink behind the mask, but shrugged it off. "Well. Let's get back to this then. Quickly too, I want to get to my routes soon."

"Alright Mu, alright." Platinum said, chuckling as Van went back up behind him.

For the next hour or so, the three covered the Observatory with the spray paint, although near the end Platinum ended up having to do his best to finish the mess. Dull grays and browns going against the bright pinks and oranges. It was a masterpiece, if only you could properly look at it. When all was said and done, Platinum and the other two raced away from the scene of the crime. The Mafia Goons would glance at them confused, but they didn't say anything in return.

"Oh, I wish I had a camera to take a picture of that!" Platinum said, chuckling as he began to push the boat back into the water faintly. "Hat Girl would have loved to see it! Speaking of which... I should be getting home before Dad realizes I went away."

"Yeah, good idea." Van said, climbing in once it was in the water. "I don't want you to get grounded after all."

Platinum rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I can come up with something to get me out of it." He chuckled, hopping into the boat, Van grabbing the sides to stay balanced as it shaked. Platinum went to the engine, but glanced at Mu. "See you again sometime?"

"I'm sure we will either way." Mu said. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as if annoyed, but underneath the mask she still had, a small smile was there.

"Alright then, see you!" Platinum shouted, as he started the engine, the boat speeding off in a second. Mu just shook her head, and went back to her cave to rest a bit more. She'll never understand that bot.

#the henry stickmin collection #a hat in time #henry stickmin fanfic #a hat in time fanfic #henry stickmin oc #topbot #reginald copperbottom #hat girl #ahit mustache girl #mafia goon

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naivesilver · 4 years ago

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@bewilderedmoth FINE. Fine. Since today is a Monday and therefore a day much more suited for a vitriolic commentary on terrible insects, I shall fulfill your request and the anon’s. I’m warning everyone in the premises, though - this is a “no fucks given” list, so it may get ugly at any time. Also, as usual, this is only for things that I’ve already watched, so if you know of some cricket horror and don’t see it mentioned, assume I’ve yet to get to that specific adaptation.

Alright then! To the barricades!

1) Disney’s Pinocchio (1940)

The first of his genre. Look at this asshole - he’s literally the last creature I’d entrust my child to. The fact Pinocchio had to spend his first couple days of life with this guy shadowing his every step is mind-boggling, and it’s made even worse by the fact that the Blue Fairy put him in charge of another man’s kid, as though she had the right to make that choice.

(I won’t fall for the desire of dunking on the Fairy more, as this is a Cricket list, but believe me, the temptation is there. It always is.)

As Disney sidekicks go, he’s one of the worst. He’s not funny, and despite having literally ONE job he manages to fail spectacularly at it. He’s snappish at Pinocchio, he abandons his charge about two hours into the new day, he spends a much longer time flirting with female-presenting inanimate objects/animals/supernatural beings than doing any actual childrearing. He should have been forgotten the instant the movie left the theaters, but instead Disney made him one of his main mascots, giving him the role of storyteller or ghost or whatever the fuck they need him to do at the time. So not only is he single-handedly responsible for every other entry in this list, I keep finding him everywhere I turn my eyes to. A knock-off version of his Ghost of Christmas Past self was in the new Ducktales, too, so my friend freenklin (who already has had to endure many of my complaints) received some VERY disappointed scream-texts as I was liveblogging my watch.

Just...no. Get him out of my sight.

(Also Ewan McGregor is bound to voice him in the live action and like??? Excuse me??? Are we supposed to not make Obi Wan jokes??? Will he abandon his young padawan Pinocchio to the evil Strombolitroopers???)

2) Pinocchio and the Emperor of the Night (1987)

This movie is at the bottom of my Pinocchio adaptation ranking, and boy, does it deserve the dishonor. The story is a weird mixture of adaptation and sequel, approximately a tenth of the characters actually appear in the book, and I can’t forgive them for ruining what could have been the coolest concept ever (Pinocchio as a pawn in a fight of good vs evil) into this disgrace of a cartoon.

As for the Cricket, in this case he’s not even a cricket. He’s a glowworm, and he’s a goddamn puppet too, to whom the Fairy gave life. I wonder, is the entirety of her job just...transforming people’s creations into sentient beings so that they can lead others to a honest life? Tell me, ma’am, do you want to breathe life into my disappointing Powerpoint presentations too, so that they might bully me into graduating?

Anyway, if you’re wondering what purpose Gee Willikers (sigh) serves, the answer is NONE. Pinocchio gets rid of him at least twice (good for him) and as easily as drinking a glass of water, he’s a burden to the (admittedly cooler) additional characters, like the aviator bee, and not only is he ugly as fuck, but also so annoying every time he gets a chance to speak that it’s a miracle he wasn’t cut out in post-production.

In short, disgusting. If he entered my home I’d swat him with a flycatcher until he leaves.

3) Pinocchio (2009)

This is essentially Disney’s Jiminy Cricket, but female, anthropomorphic, and with a passion for books instead of pretty ladies or ladies-adjacent objects. Mind you, a sapphic Cricket would perhaps have saved more than one adaptation, this one included, but I’m glad they skipped that part altogether. This miniseries has enough issues as it is.

I’m sorry, she’s just too annoying. Luciana Littizzetto can be funny, but in small doses, otherwise her jokes start to become repetitive. Two hours straight - and yes, it’s that much, because SOMEONE decided to follow Disney’s footsteps a little too well - are too long even for the strongest of hearts. Plus, none of the characters’ costumes are very flattering, accurate or well-made (except for Lampwick 💖), but hers just might take the cake. It looks like a mixture between a teenager’s first attempt at steampunk fashion and a Mardi Gras costume lifted from the discarded items’ bin at a cheap store. Takes you out of the fantasy more than anything else.

4) Roberto Benigni’s Pinocchio (2002)

I’ve talked at length of the weirdness of this movie, but all in all it’s a pretty accurate transposition of the story, from the dialogue to the scenery.

Except for him.

The Cricket in this case does appear in the scenes belonging to him, but ALSO in a long and extremely useless sequence where he tries to find Pinocchio in the Land of Toys and gets kicked around by literally everyone present. Don’t get me wrong, that’s something I would have liked to do as well, but it was totally unnecessary, and it gave nothing to the overall story. This movie still holds the record as the most expensive Italian movie ever made, so wouldn’t it have been better for everybody to skip that part entirely? Not only it would have saved them some money, but also it would have saved me from seeing this guy for an additional fifteen minutes on my screen.

Still, pretty tame compared to some of the others. Could have been worse.

5) Once Upon A Time (2011)

I debated long and hard before making this choice, and I’m not putting him in with a light heart, but before you come at me with pitchforks, please listen.

I like Archie, okay! He’s a fun character, the human side of his backstory was great and gave him a lot of depth and inner turmoil, and the concept of Jiminy Cricket being a therapist is amazing and hilarious. But he’s kind of a shit therapist, whose actions aren’t always what you’d expect from someone who’s supposed to be a conscience and a guide. And despite the show giving us the impression that he and Pinocchio had the same adventures as in the Disney movie (which doesn’t exactly endear him to me - if it wasn’t for his later character development he’d already be Lil Nas X-ing his way down to the bottom of my list), he and August never interacted on screen after the First Curse broke. Not once. And if there’s someone who needs therapy and support, that’s August Wayne Booth.

Yes, I did say at some point that I’d like to fix this in a fic. I’ll write it when I don’t have like eight projects on my table at the same time.

Finally, two scenes settled the matter for me: one, him pontificating at Snow about her trying to do everything on her own, without even pretending to help her set up the stroller she was struggling with at that very moment. I work with kids every day, I know exactly what she’s going through. Shut your mouth and open the damn stroller, Archie.

And two...That one fucking scene where he’s jumping out of Snow White’s cleavage. Honestly, what the fuck??? I wouldn’t even have remembered it if Libby hadn’t reminded me, so I suppose my brain tried to remove the traumatic memory before it caused any further damage, but it exists, and I’m still wondering why. What exactly was the deal with the writers, when they made that choice? I want a glass of what they were having, because by God, does it sound like a trip-inducing cocktail.

Aaaand we’re done! Remember, this is all part of my personal opinion, and I’m not to be taken seriously even on the best of days. Plus, my favorite cricket-esque character, aside from the book-accurate ones, is Gina from Piccolino no Bouken, who is a duck, a sassy little bastard and no closer to Collodi’s canon than any of these fuckers. So yes, when it comes to choices dictated by the heart, I am an hypocrite. Au revoir!

#the amount of time I spent of this is not comparable to the lampwick post #but it's still A LotTM for a cricket rant #meme gif included #pinocchio

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destroy-the-cannon · 4 years ago

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IT’S HERE!

Hey everyone! It’s finally happening. The long awaited Olivia x MC fit is happening. I’ll leave the rest of my thoughts as the bottom as not to bore you, but I’ll put one tiny thing here: there’s actually no Olivia in this chapter. I know, I know! She’s the whole reason you’re here. But I had to do a chapter without her to set up for something you’ll see in a future chapter. I promise, it’ll prove worth your wait. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get to it!

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, queer romance, eventual lemon(s).

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, death, illness. Language.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Paige couldn’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t working towards something. She busted her ass all through highschool, working her way into a scholarship at a decent university. From there, she had concocted a simple, five-step plan:

-Graduate with honors

-Get into a fantastic business school

-Get an amazing, ultra-high paying job

-Pay off debt

-Buy a good house for her parents, and live out the rest of her life comfortably.

But no. Nearly a month after she graduated from college, her dad got diagnosed. As he spent more and more time in the hospital, the bills rolled in. Charge upon charge upon charge, until Paige’s mother had spent up their retirement funds and was looking into getting a second job. So, naturally, Paige stepped up. She got a job working at a tiny bar downtown, and sent her every spare dime to her family, rooming with strangers, because all her friends still lived back home in California.

And then, just as Paige thought her existence couldn’t get any bleaker, it did.

She was sent one final charge, then never any again.

After that, she threw herself into working extra hours at the bar, no longer having the energy to look into jobs anywhere else. For two years, she worked and slept, worked and slept. The only person she ever really talked to was Daniel, a friend who was good for cracking jokes and aimless chatter, but not ideal as emotional support. So, completely on her own, she did her best to heal. She cried till she couldn’t, screamed, cried some more, and did anything she could to try and lessen the complete suffocation that was her grief. Each day, she did whatever she could to wake up feeling a bit lighter, until she felt almost nothing at all. It took two years, but she was finally starting to feel like a person again.

That’s when she met three of the five people who were going to change her life forever.

That day, it was just the men who happened to be in the restaurant. This did make sense, because it was a bachelor party, after all. Not that that was easy to tell, just looking at them. Their clothes ranged from a simple denim-and-white-jeans look to a three piece suit, leather shoes, and a pocket square. Honestly, who still wore pocket squares? Paige shuddered just looking at it. It seemed that she was dealing with a typical group of douchey, overgrown frat boys. It would suck while she was serving them, but usually at least one of them would remember to leave a decent tip. She sighed and strode over, pulling out her pad.

“Hi, what can I-” She broke off for a tiny moment before resuming. “What can I get for you today?” Trying to cover her tracks, she flashed a bright smile.

The reason she had broken off was sitting there, watching her. He wasn’t dressed particularly flashily, in his garnet sweater and khakis, but he had an air of quiet importance about him, something almost noble. His posture was perfect, his hair done with not a strand out of place, a neatly shaved face, a perfectly straight and clean collar. It was the little things about him, things that one didn’t typically find in a crappy downtown bar, that made Paige even warier. He grinned a small, curious grin at her. Before she could respond, the man in the suit began to speak.

“So firstly, I’d like to ask about your wine. I’m assuming there’s a separate list?” Mr. Denim and a (quite cute, actually) guy in a black button down traded amused glances over Sir Suit’s shoulder.

“Sorry, we don’t. We have a good selection of beer an-” He cut her off with a horrified look. She’d never seen such a prim rage before; she had to stop herself from snorting.

“There’s nothing else? I’ve never even heard of some of these labels before! I’d think I’d like to speak to your mana-”

“Tariq.”

The sweatered man, the quiet one, lay a hand on Mr. Suit’s shoulder. His voice was warm, strong, and seemed to contain just a hint of some foreign accent that Paige couldn’t place. He smiled apologetically at her.

“That’s completely fine. We’ll take a bottle of your finest whiskey, and four glasses.”

“Great. Will you be having anything to eat with that?” She was making some strangely intense eye contact with The Sweater (she’d have to try and catch his name) when Tariq cut in obliviously. She was really starting to hate this guy.

“Yes, we’ll each take a filet mignon, medium rare, prepared with a bearnaise sauce.”

Paige blinked. The man smiled blandly at her as though this was a perfectly normal request.

“Sir, the closest thing we have to a filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

Now it was Tariq’s turn to blanch in horror. “Burger?”

“Sounds great! We’ll take four.” Mr. Denim cut in, shooting a glare Tariq’s way.

“Right then. I’ll go put your order in, and I’ll be right back with that whiskey.”

She turned and made her way back to the kitchen, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to take over her face. Taking out Tariq, this seemed like a group of pretty decent guys. Usually, she expressed nothing more than a vague sort of interest in customers, a kind of unattached curiosity. But listening to them laughing and yelling, she couldn’t help but to want to pull up a chair and join them.

Sighing, she pulled out their glasses and whiskey. She was putting in their order when she felt eyes on her. Without moving, she peered out of the corner of her eye.

The three friends were talking, except for the quiet one. His eyes traced the curve of her neck, and her spine tingled with awareness of his every move. She arched her form just a bit, trying to be as subtle as she could, and his eyes slipped lower.

Just as she was about to turn, his friend elbowed him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the quiet one smiled and turned his attention back to the group. She didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered back for just a half second, darkening, before he focused back in on the booth’s conversation.

She sighed, and grabbed the whiskey. Oh, well. This was going to be a boring night, but hopefully, in terms of tip, a fruitful one.

* * *

“Excuse me?”

Paige turned to find the sweatered man from before.

“I think we’re about to head out, and I didn’t want to do so without apologizing.”

The bar had emptied out completely, and the two were completely alone. Sweater’s friends were jostling around out front.

“Apologizing?” She frowned. “For what?”

“Well, I know we kept you late, and my friends can be pretty…” He paused. “Demanding.”

“Demanding, huh? Well, it was nothing I can’t handle. I’m used to it by now.”

“Well, be that as it may, I’d still like to apologize. We’re about to head out to a club right near here. Could I buy you a drink?”

“Which club are you going to?”

“Oh, well…” He winced. “We were actually hoping that you could help with that. We’re not from around here.”

“In that case, I know just where you should go.” She scanned him with a critical eye before making a decision. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that would particularly enjoy some wild party spot. There’s a great little secret cove right near here you might like.”

He grinned in relief. “That sounds amazing. I’m getting just a bit tired of the traditional bachelor party antics. Why don’t you lead the way?”

“Sure, that sounds awesome! Let me just get out of this uniform, and we can get going.” She turned to go, then stopped short. “Before we go, can I get your name? I’m Paige.”

She turned to offer her hand, expecting a firm shake. To her surprise, he leaned down and actually kissed her knuckles. An honest to god bow-and-kiss. As soon as he’d done it, his eyes widened in embarrassment before shrinking into a wince. “Sorry, that’s an, ah, custom. Where I come from. It’s tradition. I just- just forgot you don’t do it here. I’m Liam.” He was clearly quite mortified, but Paige smiled. She thought it cute, and made her feel oddly regal. There was something so gentle in the gesture, it was almost reverent. Sweet. Grinning, Paige ducked back into the backroom, changing into an emerald-green dress she kept in her bag. She paused for a moment to check her reflection, fluffing out her hair and dress. Confident, she followed Liam into the night air.

As soon as she stepped out, the first thing she heard was: “Daaang! The waitress is hot!”, quickly followed by a more earnest: “That uniform didn’t do you justice.” Before she could respond, Liam stepped forward.

“Hey. Paige is a guest among us, and I doubt she appreciates you commenting on her appearance like that.”

If he didn’t before, he now had her full trust.

She was pretty used to receiving comments like that by now, and it didn’t particularly bother her. At least these guys didn’t seem to have any cruel intent. She got much worse in clubs or on the street. But it was rare to see another man stick up for her like that. Liam barely even knew her, and yet he was ready to call out his friends for her. Instantly, she found she liked him even more.

The guys stuck their head down and muttered apologies. They seemed sincere enough, and clearly eager to earn a fresh start, so Paige let it go.

“So, the waitress is coming with us?” Mr. Denim piped up, looking Paige over.

“Actually, we’re going with her. She’s picked out our next destination.”

“So she’s our tour guide now.” Denim raised his brow. He didn’t seem malicious, per se, just skeptical.

“Hey, Paige very graciously agreed to show us around, so play nice.” Liam turned to her. “Lead the way!”

“I’d love to, but can I get the rest of you guys’ names first? I can’t be referring to you three as ‘you there’ this whole night.”

“I’m Maxwell! Maxwell Beaumont.” Button Down grinned and shook her hand enthusiastically.

“I’m Drake Walker.” Denim stepped forward and also shook her hand, though much less enthusiastically.

“Great. And you’re Tariq, right?” She pointed at the third man, who was smiling at her in a way that did actually make her just a tad uncomfortable. He nodded, his smile growing.

“Awesome. Let’s get going!” She spun around, and they followed her into the night.

* * *

They emerged from a small swath of greenery into a beautiful little cove. The starlight shone on the ocean, and the whole place seemed mysterious and magical. Like anything could happen.

“We should build a bonfire!” Drake looked happier than he’d been all night.

“I am will not be engaging in manual labor.” Tariq looked like he was about to throw up.

“I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’m going to go build a bonfire.” He practically skipped off. Paige could’ve sworn she heard a giggle. The men turned to take in their surroundings.

“This place is awesome! Skinny dippiiiiiing!”

“Keep your pants on, Maxwell.”

Liam turned to Paige as the other two bickered. “Thank you for taking us here, Paige. I can tell the guys are enjoying themselves already.”

“Forget your friends. Do you like it here?”

“I love it.” He was completely sincere.

“This is my secret spot, so I’m really trusting you here.” She was teasing, but he looked her directly in the eye as he responded. “I will do everything I can to be worthy of that trust.”

There was a moment there, where he held her gaze. But he looked away and turned his eyes to the sky as he spoke.

“There’s only one problem. How am I supposed to buy you that drink now?” He’d made his tone light as meringue, but there was a tiny crease between his brows.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll just keep owing me.”

“Seems fair enough to me.” They stood together for a second, until Drake called out.

“Guys! The fire’s ready!”

He beamed as he motioned for them to sit. His proud beam suddenly reminded Paige of a particularly peppy golden retriever. She stifled a giggle as she tucked her feet under her.

“Hey, can I ask you guys something?” She had grabbed one of the beers Drake had insisted they get from a convenience store on the way. She sipped from the bottle, trying to appear casual. Maxwell looked up from one of the pop-tarts he had picked up. “What’s up?”

“Well, what’s up with you guys? What’s your deal?”

As soon as she asked the question, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. The air grew thick with tension. The boys traded nervous glances, each one visibly uncomfortable. Finally, Liam spoke.

“Guys, it’s fine. She deserves to know.”

“Are you sure?” Drake’s puppy-like grin had vanished, replaced with a look of guarded skepticism.

“Positive.” Liam nodded, and they all turned to her.

“Okay. Paige, there’s something you should know about us.”

“Alright…” It suddenly occurred to her that she was on a remote island with four strange men who were now all staring at her, and why did she think this was a good idea? She tried to tamp down her growing panic.

“As you know, we’re not from here. But where we are from, specifically, is... Cordonia.”

“Okay. And this is a secret why, exactly?”

Liam shifted again. Clearly, there was more.

“Well, we’re not just tourists. I mean, we’re not really, ah, average citizens.”

Hm. Well, that wasn’t too surprising. Liam’s controlled manner, the way Maxwell kept looking over his shoulder, Tariq’s pocket square. But what, exactly, did this all mean? They were either spies, mega rich, or criminals. She waited for them to go on.

“What I mean by that is… well, we may have left some things out in our introduction. Drake really is Drake Walker, but the rest of us are different.”

Maxwell piped up. “I’m Sir Maxwell Percival Beaumont. Of Ramsford.”

“I am Lord Tariq Nadar, of Larada.” He bowed and leered at Paige in a way that caused her stomach to lurch suddenly.

“And I am Prince Liam Cicero Constantine Rhys, prince of Cordonia.”

Prince of Cordonia. The way he kissed her hand. The way the other men seemed so keenly aware of his every command. His cordial behavior. She had been flirting with a prince. An heir, she guessed.

But, if he was an heir, then that could mean-

Oh, God.

“Whose bachelor party is this?”

To her horror, Liam raised his hand tentatively.

“It’s mine.”

Shit! Ew, ew, ew. Her opinion of him dropped right down to the ground. Of course he was fucking engaged. He had been flirting with her, checking her out, and he was engaged! Fuck that, fuck him. She hadn’t even been that into him, so any disappointment she may have felt was swallowed by anger and disgust. She was almost ready to leave when he jumped in, probably sensing her rage.

“I’m not engaged. I mean, I will be, but I don’t actually have a fiancé yet.”

Oh. She lowered herself back onto the log, smoothing her pinched features.

“But wait. That doesn’t make any sense. Why have a bachelor party if you’re not even engaged yet?”

“That’s what you're concerned about? Not the nobility thing? I mean, I would- ow! Drake!” Drake elbowed Maxwell into silence before turning to Paige to explain.

“Liam’s at the age where it’s finally time to pick a future queen. The social season begins the day after tomorrow, and by the end of it, Liam’s gonna have a bride. They try to win the favor of the king and queen, catch Liam’s eye, demonstrate their queenly abilities through a series of competitions, blah blah blah. We’re throwing a bachelor party now because the next one’ll basically just be a press event with a bunch of nobles he barely knows.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to say. What the hell was she supposed to say? This was a huge bomb to just drop on her casually.

“I hope you don’t think we’re trying to fool you. If that is the case, it’s completely understandable-”

“I believe you.” Oddly enough, she knew they weren’t lying. Somehow, in her bones, she just knew. These were genuine nobles, ones she’d just happened to somehow convince to spend the night out together. Her, the broke, tired waitress. Intellectually, she knew this was an absolutely wild and preposterous thing she was doing, but emotionally, that just wouldn’t register. This felt right, like an evening out with three old friends and one Tariq.

But then again, this was different for them. They weren’t used to spending time with people like her. She was suddenly keenly aware of her own casual behavior, how she’d treated them like any old group of people. They weren’t. She started to gather up her things, fussing with her bag. She should leave them. Why would they want to spend time with someone like her?

“Does this mean I should have been curtseying? Bowing? Using your proper titles?”

“Well, personally, I wouldn’t have minded if you had-”

“Shut up, Tariq.” Maxwell twisted towards her. “This night has turned out to be awesome. You’ve turned out to be pretty awesome. And it doesn’t have to end! Let’s stay out! Just keep thinking of us as regular tourists. Don’t go.”

“I-” She stopped. “Okay. I’m staying.”

Her answer seemed to have surprised her as much as it did them. But she meant it, truly. She was having fun, and as weird as this night had turned out to be, she felt like she had made friends. Real friends, not work ones. This night would become a cool story she told at parties, and these people would become ones she’d wonder about and obsessively google for years to come, she was sure. So she didn’t leave. She sat with them, and it was one of the best nights she’d spent in a very long time.

* * *

“Paige! Wait up!” Paige turned to find Maxwell running after her. Her face split into a surprised grin. “Maxwell! What are you doing here?” He bounded up with a bright look about him. “I’m here for you! The plane leaves in like half an hour, and I wanted to catch you before we left.”

It was the morning after the bachelor party, and Paige was trudging to work. The sidewalk was choked with people rushing from place to place, and Maxwell was struggling to hold his ground.

“And why did you need to catch me, exactly?” Surely, from the beam on his face, he wasn’t just delivering a lost earring? Hope started to tickle at her insides, though what it was for, she had no idea.

“I wanted to make an offer. Obviously, it’s totally cool if you want to say no, and there’s no pressure or anything, but I had to ask.”

“Okay…” What was he doing?

“Come with us.” Her expression must’ve been absolutely shocked, and he hurried on upon seeing it.

“Liam looked really happy last night. Like, uncharacteristically happy and smiley. And you seem really cool, so I got to thinking. You could come with us. You’d be sponsored by House Beaumont, and you’d have a real shot at it! It wouldn’t be easy, since you’re not technically nobility, and House Beaumont is kind of-” he stopped himself. “Um, I mean, it would be hard. Is what I’m saying. But cool! Fun! Are you in?”

“Sorry, what is ‘it’, exactly?”

“Oh, yeah, shoot. Liam’s hand in marriage!”

Liam’s hand. In marriage. The sidewalk seemed to spin. She liked Liam just fine, but marriage? There was no way. She knew it, deep down in her soul. She wasn’t going to marry him, and she never would.

She glanced back over her shoulder, back at the bar. The whole place seemed grubby and hollow. Daniel was wiping away at the counter, a faraway expression on his face. He was dreaming of an out. They had dreamed of that out together, on mornings like this.

Paige pictured elegant palaces, glamorous parties, beautiful people. She imagined dancing the night away, drunk on champagne and laughter. She imagined stolen corridor kisses and secret rendezvous in lavish gardens.

She turned back to Maxwell.

“I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes. I’ve got some packing to do.”

Son that was the first chapter! It’s out a bit later than I’d like, but it’s out! Sorry again about the Olivia thing. I promise, she’ll be a key character in chapter two.

I’m really new to publishing my stuff, so if you have any tips or suggestions, please let me know!

#slow burn #enemies to lovers #olivia nevrakis #choices stories you play #the royal holiday #the royal romance #trr au #trr mc #trr #the royal heir #choices fanfiction #choices fandom

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 5 years ago

Text

Sexiled (Part 19/23) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader ~ College!AU

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Happy Friday! Hope you’re all doing well and I hope you enjoy this!

Summary: You and Steve discuss the night before. You and Sarah bond over the ballet.

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sarah Rogers,

Rating: K+

Warnings: Light angst, discussing death of spouse/parent, feels, fluffy Steve

Word Count: 1679

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You woke slowly, no alarms, no annoyed roommate, just steady breathing and a muted scuffing that you couldn’t place, coming from beside you.

“Good morning, sweetness.”

“Good morning. Umm, how did we get up here?”

The last thing you remembered was being curled up in Steve’s lap, stroking his hair and pressing the occasional kiss to whichever part of his face you were closest to.

“You walked. I did wonder if you were actually awake. Guess I got my answer,” he chuckled, continuing to sketch.

You propped your head in your hand so you could study him.

“You’re so beautiful,” you sighed, as you mentally traced his features. You couldn’t help but smile when his cheeks turned pink. Placing his sketchpad and pencil on the bedside table, he scooted down in the bed so he was mimicking your position.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out.”

You ducked your head, flustered by his sincerity. Steve reached out to brush your hair out of your face, lingering on your cheek pulling your gaze to him.

“Thank you for last night,” Steve murmured. “I wasn’t expecting to react like that.”

You pulled his hand away from your cheek so you could kiss his palm.

“Thank you for being open with me. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. It’s the first time I really talked about feeling that way. It helped a lot.”

“You know you can talk to me about stuff like that any time.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” he argued but you were already shaking your head.

“It’s not a burden. Your problems are not a burden. You are not a burden.”

His eyes widened at your words, and you knew you’d hit the nail on the head.

“Steve, listen to me. You are never a burden to me or to anyone else. Do you understand me?”

He nodded, slowly, still mulling it over.

“Yes. I’m not sure I believe you. But I’ll work on it.”

You smiled at his honesty. “That’s all I ask.”

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

“I love you too. I was right by the way,” you added with a satisfied smile.

“About what?”

“I do love you more today than yesterday.”

His answering smile was radiant. When he kissed you it was slow and deliberate and he poured every ounce of emotion into it.

“As do I,” he whispered when he pulled away. “As do I.”

You spent a little longer kissing and processing the night before. When you finally got yourselves ready for the day you found the downstairs was halfway to being a winter wonderland.

“Good morning, kids,” Sarah greeted from behind a box of Santas.

“Good morning. You’ve been busy.”

“I can never wait to put up the Christmas decorations,” she admitted, panting out a laugh as she tried to juggle a box and the lights.

“I’ll get it, Ma.”

Steve rushed to her side to help with the box, and that was how most of the day went. When it was time to call it quits before the ballet the place was completely decked out.

After a quick shower, you retreated into Sarah’s room to get ready together.

“You looked so beautiful on your wedding day,” you gushed when you noticed the wedding photos on her vanity as she carefully arranged your hair into an elegant twist. “I love your gown. It’s so classic.”

“Thank you. I still love that dress. I think if I were to get married again, I’d still pick it.”

“I hope I feel that way about my dress someday.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Steve looks so much like his dad.”

“Yes, he does,” she sighed as she looked at the picture. “Sometimes when I come home and see Steve reading in this chair, I think it’s Joe for a just a minute.”

She sniffed as she pinned fabric flowers into your hair, just below your right ear.

“You look so beautiful, sweetheart,” she complimented, looking over your shoulder into the mirror as she tucked the tag into the back of your dress and smoothed the flutter sleeves.

You covered her hand with your own, squeezing.

“Thank you. And thank you again for this. It’s so amazing. I always dreamed of seeing the Nutcracker done professionally.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She leaned on the end of the bed to slip her shoes on. “I’m excited to share it with someone who loves it as much as I do. Joe and Steve have never quite shared my love of the ballet, but they always went along with me.”

She sat next to you on the vanity bench to put on her jewelry.

“Did you go often?”

“Usually just the Nutcracker. But Joe always made it special. He made sure that Steve and he were dressed in the best clothes. And he’d bring me a bouquet. Red roses and pink tulips. And we always took our holiday photo that night.”

“That so sweet.”

“This is the first year we’re going since Joe passed,” Sarah admitted quietly.

“Really?” you asked, choked up.

“Yes. Steve had been getting sicker. And by the time Dr. Erksine came along, it felt too hard to go back. So we just let the years pass.”

You tried to find the words to comfort her, but none came so you held her hand instead. She squeezed tightly, a silent thank you as she sniffed back a few tears.

“It was high time to bring the tradition back. And what better reason than to share it with someone so special to Steve.”

“I’m…” Flattered? Honored? You couldn’t find the right words.

“You don’t have to say anything. I think we understand each other very well.”

You stayed quiet together for a few more moments before she shook her head and stand up.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Absolutely.”

Steve was dressed in a gray suit and sitting in the armchair in the living room scrolling through his phone when you and Sarah came down, but he immediately hopped to his feet when he heard you on the stairs.

“You both look beautiful.”

“Thank you, son.”

“Ma, I have something for you.”

“What is it?”

He reached behind the armchair and retrieved a bouquet of tulips and roses. You had to bite back your aww and you could see Sarah fighting tears.

“I know that things are different now with dad being gone, but I thought since we were bringing back this tradition, I could carry on this part too. I want to make things special for you again.”

She reached out to cup his cheek and you had to look away to give them privacy.

“Oh, Steve.”

She hugged him, bringing his head down to her shoulder as she cradled the back of his head.

“You are a good man. Your dad would be so proud.”

The ride to the Metropolitan Opera House was quiet. A lot of emotions had been stirred up so far that evening, but when you finally arrived, the overwhelming one was excitement. You couldn’t take in the details around you quickly enough. You were certain you were missing amazing things. You felt Steve’s amused gaze as he led you by the hand, allowing you to devour the new environment.

Once you were seated, you continued your attempt to commit the architecture to memory – memories you knew would never do it justice.

When the lights dimmed, your breath caught in anticipation. Steve’s fingers found yours, grounding you, even as you were threatened to be carried away by the music. You were one of the first on your feet during the curtain call, clapping until your hands stung and your arms were sore.

“What did you think?” Sarah asked as you slowly filed out of the theater.

“It was breathtaking. Did you enjoy it?”

“Very much so. And what about you, Steven? Did you enjoy the evening?” Sarah asked, a teasing tone in her voice you didn’t quite understand.

“I did,” he assured her. “I believe I saw something truly beautiful tonight.”

“I’m sure you did.”

You watched the back and forth curiously, before Sarah turned her attention back to you, clearly changing the subject.

“Y/n, sweetheart, would you mind taking our picture?”

“Of course.”

You took her phone from her and lined up a shot of the two of them below the marquee and then several close ups.

“There you go. Let me know if you like them,” you told her, handing back the phone.

“Oh they’re perfect. Okay, now let’s get you two together. Come on. Get close.”

Steve’s ears turned pink with his mother’s fussing, but tugged you into his side nonetheless. You felt awkward in the first few, but when you looked up to see Steve’s warm gaze you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“There you go! More like that. Act like you like each other.”

That made you laugh.

She took a few more pictures before asking a passerby to take one of the three of you and finally hailing a cab back home. She kissed both you and Steve good night.

As you lay, curled up in his bed, you asked the question that you’d been wondering since witnessing Steve and Sarah’s exchange.

“Steve,” you whispered.

“Yeah, sweetness.”

“Did you not like the ballet?”

He chuckled; he knew where you were going with this.

“To be honest, I didn’t watch most of it.”

“What were-“

“I was too busy watching you,” he explained. “That’s what Ma was teasing me for.”

“Why were you watching me?” You asked, just barely able to make out his features in the darkness.

“Because you are so beautiful when you’re happy. You light up so brightly. How could you expect me to watch anything else?”

You wanted to scoff. Or laugh it off. But you knew he was utterly serious.

“I could watch you be happy forever, sweetness.”

“Nothing would make me happier than forever with you,” you whispered.

“Win/win then,” he chuckled, pulling you close and kissing your temple.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

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#Sexiled #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers #College!AU #college!steve rogers #Part 19

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reydjarinkenobi · 4 years ago

Note

Loved the recent chapter of Dropkicked! I love the idea of Din being Rey's father, but the messages almost made me cry. Can't wait for more Master-Padawan bonding between the four of them, as well as more bonding between Finn and the clones.

Thank you so much! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter.

----

Finn's head was spinning with the sudden changes that he'd experienced in the past few hours. It wasn't a new feeling for him. If he was honest, his head hadn't really stopped spinning since he'd decided to save Poe all those months ago.

After that decision, that one choice which uprooted everything that Finn had ever known, everything had been constantly changing. At times, it had felt like it was impossible to pause long enough to even take a breath. Finn had been dragged through a whirlwind of chaos and fighting, moving through missions, between different bases, and around different positions in the Resistance. The only times where his mind had seemed to slow down were when he was with Poe or Rey or the general.

For most of the first few months, Finn hadn't been sure about what he wanted to do. There had been something, deep inside him that had screamed at him to run, to find a dark corner of the galaxy so far away and well-hidden that the First Order would never find him, not matter how far their influence spread and how much power they took. However, whenever he went to ask the general for transport, for help in hiding (he knew that she would give it without judgement should he ask, in fact, she was the one who offered a few days after he'd woken up in the med bay after Starkiller Base), he seemed to catch sight of Poe fixing his TIE fighter or talking quietly to BB8, or Rey determinedly walking off into the forest to yet again sit there for hours or pouring through books as she tried to understand how to fix the galaxy, and he knew that he could not abandon them.

These people were his people and they were fighting for what was right. And, yes, it was scary and it was difficult and they were losing. But, it felt good every time they helped someone, or saved a planet from the First Order's clutches. Finn had never felt like he was doing something right before. He didn't want to stop and, ultimately, every time he had faltered, that conviction had proved stronger than the fear.

But time travel? That was hard to tackle.

Finn followed General Kenobi to the luscious garden. The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was the sudden increase in temperature. This ship was fancy enough for the halls to be heated even in hyperspace. However, the humidity in room of tropical plants, which was almost like a greenhouse, took the edge of the chill that permeated hyperspace more than the heaters ever could. The second thing he noticed was the frankly ridiculous water feature that dominated the centre of the high-ceilinged room.

General Kenobi led him over to a clear section of glass right next to the fountain and sat down in a cross-legged position.

Finn scrambled to do the same, trying his best to match General Kenobi's posture.

He must have done something right because General Kenobi smiled at him, filling Finn's chest with a warmth.

"I know this must be very overwhelming for you," General Kenobi said.

Finn nodded. "That's one way to put it."

General Kenobi's smile widened a little. "Yes, that was rather an understatement, wasn't it? My apologies, I've had so much practice with phrasing things diplomatically that it has become automatic."

"That's… useful."

General Kenobi chuckled before he looked seriously into Finn's eyes. "Regardless of the… unusual circumstances you've found yourself in, you are my padawan now, and we will be working very closely together. We will be partners, even above the battalions we will be working with and Padawan Rey and Master Windu, do you understand?"

Finn frowned, but he nodded again. "Yes. You'll be teaching me and I'll answer primarily to you."

General Kenobi nodded. "Of course, given your age and circumstances, this will be a highly unusual padawanship and, as such, we will both need to be flexible and open to our expectations for this dynamic."

Finn blinked. He hadn't expected such a frank and open discussion. Honestly, it reminded him of General Organa, when she'd sat him down and frankly asked him what he wanted.

"Uh… yeah. That would be good actually."

General Kenobi smiled gently, his posture somehow becoming even more straight even as eh inclined his head towards Finn.

"I promise to do my best to train you in the ways of the Jedi and help you gain mastery over the Force. However, I also want you to know that, should the Jedi path not be suited for you, you will always have my support going forward, even if you decide to leave the order. I have many contacts that could help you establish a life outside the Order."

Finn frowned. Over the past couple of months, he had come to accept the fact that he would eventually join the sparse ranks of the mystical Force Users. However, he hadn't been prepared for joining such an organised and established Order.

"And what does it mean to be a Jedi?" Finn asked. "Rey and I tried to figure it out, but there wasn't much… I mean most records had been destroyed and it was hard to find real solid evidence of what the Order really was like… or is like I guess."

General Kenobi put a hand on his chin, pausing in thought for a few moments before he questioned, "What do you think it means to be a Jedi?"

Finn pressed his lips together. "From what I understand of past stories and from what I think… Jedi are peacekeepers, right? They protected the galaxy as best they could and mediate government bureaucracy to try and get fair outcomes. They protect people when they can't protect themselves."

General Kenobi's shoulders lowered slightly. "That's what we try to do. It's become a lot more difficult over the last few years. We… try to do what is right. But you missed one, very important. We are beholden to the Senate. Especially after recent legislation. It has allowed us to have influence within in the galaxy to make it better, but everything comes at a price and we've been feeling it recently."

Finn leaned forward, looking deeply into General Kenobi’s eyes. “There is one thing that I am certain of and that all those in the Resistance, particularly General Leia: the Jedi were good. They helped the galaxy. Even the Clone Wars was... is the Jedi doing everything they can to protect it.”

General Kenobi glanced down, taking a slow breath before he looked up at Finn, his eyes shining.

“That means more than I can say.”

He cleared his throat. “It is not my place to tell you what being a Jedi is to you. However, you must know that if you choose to be a Jedi, you must commit to being a Jedi. It has to be your first priority and you can’t let anything else come before that.”

Finn pursed his lips. “Luke said something similar when he talked about being a Jedi. I think I understand.”

“You do?”

Finn nodded. “Its similar in the Resistance: the cause comes first. Anything else comes second... came second. We couldn’t afford to prioritise anything over our missions or the people we were helping could get hurt... could have died.”

General Kenobi inclined his head forward, his face impassive, but Finn was very good at reading people, having spent much of his life surrounded by people in full armour, and if he had to guess, the slight loosening of the man’s shoulders belied his relief.

“Good. The Jedi do not forbid romantic relationships, just attachments that could compromise our objectivity or our ability to perform our duties, but I think that you understand that. If you do think that you’ve formed an attachment that will jeapordise you’re ability to make the right decision when it comes down to it, then it will your job to come forward with that and either work threw that attachement or step down as a Jedi before you get someone hurt. The Council has been more... lenient with this rule since the war began. It’s blurred the lines for many but it is still important.”

Finn blinked and absorbed this information for a few moments before he replied, “I agree. Poe agrees too. I... think I might love him but we both knew that there would always be something that came first, even after the war. Poe has always been to committed to saving the galaxy above all else and I... I think I like helping people. And I don’t want something to come before that, not even Poe.”

At this, General Kenobi smiled. “That is... an extremely mature response. But, just know, if you change your mind, you are free to leave the Order. You might not be a Jedi afterwards, but you will still have the support of your friends if you wish to keep in contact.”

Finn nodded. “I understand.”

General’s Kenobi’s grin widened and he took a deep breath. “I know that this was extremely unexpected, but I have a good feeling about you and your team. I think you will find your place here and I’m looking forward to teaching you.”

Finn wanted to duck his head but managed to stop himself, even as he felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you, General Kenobi.”

“It’s, Obi-Wan, or Master Obi-Wan if you want to, but don’t feel pressured if you are uncomfortable with that title or it causes you distress. I know the negative connotations it has in much of the galaxy.”

Finn shook his head. “No, it’s ok. I know that it’s a sign of respect. And I never - the First Order didn’t use that word. It would have been too obvious what we were then. They relied on us being too brainwashed to care.”

Gener - no, Master Obi-Wan pressed his lips together then but went on instead of diving into a discussion about Finn’s past. He didn’t think he could handle it after the emotional upheaval. The Jedi has already talked with them about the ramifications of leaving everything behind before their medical check ups and implied that there would be more of those conversations in the future.

“What would be comfortable being adrressed as? I can call you Padawan, or Finn, or even Commander Finn if you would prefer. You will be addressed as such by the troops. I’m afraid it’s rather impossible to get them to use your first names. Cody has only just started doing so, and that is only in private after we’ve already been doing hours of paperwork together.”

“Any of those are fine.” Just as long as they didn’t use his number, but they hadn’t told him his number, so he would have to worry about that. “I won’t have to call the troopers by their serial numbers will I?”

Master Obi-Wan grimaced. “Many of them have not chosen names for themselves, so you will need to address those as their designations if you want to converse with them, but a great majority have decided upon their names and prefer it if you address them by their chosen names.”

Finn nodded vigorously. “Good. That’s good. I can definitely do that.”

Master Obi-Wan’s eyes softened. “I know that the clones’ reality is not right, but we have thus far been unsuccessful in convincing the Senate that they need rights. I know this will be difficult for you. If you are having difficulties, please feel free to come to me or any Jedi Master if you do not want to talk to me about it. We can arrange a way to make you feel better, even if that is you staying in the Temple, though you will still see troopers there. We have found that we like having them there. It feels right and they help the young kings feel safe.”

Both Jedi flinched after that at the reminder of just what the troopers on the Temple had done. The event was barely under one and a half years away. The troopers there still had their chips in. They couldn’t convey their information to the Council for fear of it getting intercepted. There was no telling how safe even the most encrypted comms were and this intel was too important to risk getting out. It literally meant the life and death of every Jedi. They couldn’t even discuss it with the other Jedi on their trip yet. They needed to get a plan first.

“It’s alright,” Finn assured Master Obi-Wan. “Like I said, I know that this was the best option. Without you, the troopers would be stuck with people like Tarkin, and you would have had even less influence than you already do over the trooper’s fates.”

Master Obi-Wan swallowed and was quiet for a few moments before he looked up. “I think that’s enough heavy topics for one day, Padawan. Do you agree?”

Finn matched the other man’s smile and nodded.

Master Obi-Wan shook his shoulders out. “Now, I know that you have practiced meditation, but I would like to see your progress. It is one of the most important parts of a Jedi’s skill set. It helps us connect with the Force and promotes self reflection, which is essential to ensure that you stay in touch with your emotions and feelings.”

“And don’t fall to the Dark Side.”

“Very good,” Master Obi-Wan agreed with a nod of his head. “But also to just ensure that you are aware of your emotions and that your connection to the Force is healthy.”

“That sounds fair.”

“I’m glad, Finn,” Master Obi-Wan said with a smirk. “Now, would like me to guide you through a meditation?”

“Yeah,” Finn answered without needing to think about it. “I would.”

——

Rey couldn’t stop the giddy smile from splitting across her face as she opened her eyes. That was the best meditation she’d ever had.

“That was amazing!” she said. It made up for the long conversation they’d had about the rules of the Jedi (that part really hadn’t been bad. It was nice when people were clear), trauma (which had been painful and left her feeling hollow) and about her feelings towards her family (which had almost made her cry). The conversation had been long and serious, but she thought that her master was convinced that she knew the dangers of attachment - she’d told him about Joie shelf learnt the difference between a healthy relationship and attachment the hard way after all.

Master Windu’s lips twitched and he glanced down at the comm link on his vambrace, “We have time for me to begin teaching you katas?”

Rey perked up, causing her master to chuckle. Rey’s eyes widened and Master Windu smiled at her.

“Did I shock you, Padawan?”

Rey stammered our a denial but that only caused her master to chuckle again.

“It’s alright, Rey,” he assured her as he sobered. “I am a High General and the Master of the Order, which means I need to present a certain image to everyone. I know I come off as stern.”

Rey blinked before she nodded. “That makes sense. The Order needs a firm leader.”

Her master smiled at her. “However, you are not everyone. You are my Padawan. It is a lot of responsibility for you as we both will be held to a certain expectation when we are around other people. You will need to act respectfully and responsibly. But it also means I won’t be as... stiff around you.”

Rey absorbed that for a few moments before she answered, “I understand... Master Mace.”

Her lips twitched as her master sighed. “There was a reason I asked you to address me as either Master or Mace.”

Rey grinned and Mace raised his eyebrow at her. “Remind me not to introduce you to Depa, your sister padawan. I can already tell that I will never find peace again if I do.”

They shared a smile as warmth thrummed through their newly established bond and then Mace cleared his throat. “Why don’t we get started. The highly unique style of your saber means that you will need to learn multiple fighting styles to master the staff and dual form. However, I think I’ll start off you Shi-Cho forms for a single blade and we’ll go from there.”

Rey nodded in agreement and stood up with her master, unclipping her saber from its stop on her belt and lighting up the blue side. Her master ignited his own saber revealing a brilliant purple colour that immediately had Rey entranced as he started showing her simple stances.

The moves felt good, a little awkward at first but she quickly picked them up, and soon Mace showed her the variations for staff and Jar’Kai. By the end of the lesson, they had moved onto to a slow sort of sparring and Rey felt like she’d actually made progress for the first time since she’d started training.

“That was a good session, Padawan” her master praised her warmly at the end of it, stepping up to her shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room so you can get cleaned up before dinner and then we can complete the last step in making your padawanship official.”

“What’s that, Master?”

“Giving you a braid.”

----

How was this? What else are you looking forward to seeing? I promise we’ll get some clone action soon.

#Getting Drop Kicked by the Force #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #tcw fanfiction #obi-wan #mace windu #rey #finn #master-padawan bonding

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lovelyirony · 5 years ago

Text

This Might as Well Happen

“So let’s let things come out of the woodwork/I’ll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies” Homemade Dynamite, Lorde

Tony was a curious little shit ever since he could remember. He remembers trying to sneak into the meeting rooms when Dum-Dum Dugan and Peggy Carter would meet with Dad. (He failed at this because he never really learned how spies actually gathered information.)

His knowledge was highly encouraged by tutors that could never keep up and Jarvis, who would buy him the most obscure books he could.

(“Jarvis, this book is in Japanese!”

“Are you saying you can’t figure it out?”

“Well, no...”)

And now this has royally screwed him over because he’s still figuring out how he’s hacking into shit and he just found...something.

The thing about computers and him is that Tony understands computers on a level most don’t. Hell, he’s built most of the systems that he knows to be better than the commercially available ones.

This is how he figures out that there’s a hit out on his parents. For the night that he said he wasn’t going to go to because “it was super lame” and the fact that Howard’s already disappointed in him and he’d rather not try to awkwardly bond with him in public because that’s what people expect from him.

But now he has to go.

Which sucks, by the way. Because he’s not telling his parents that they’re going to be killed because that’s just...Howard wouldn’t believe him and Mama would probably wring her hands out of their sockets and ring up the president or some shit like that.

Besides, it’s easy to change what’s going to happen, even if he is only a young adult or however you categorize a twenty year old.

He simply updates the file. It’s not like anyone can tell, especially when the system that the organization is using was mainly designed by him with minimal input from other sources.

He says that the Stark family will be leaving at midnight, even though the function carries on much later and his parents often like to stay out quite a bit later than midnight.

Tony then tells them that he’s decided to go.

“Why?” Howard asks suspiciously. “You said it yourself that this was supposedly ‘the most boring thing you would ever be doing’.”

“Teenagers change minds all the time,” Tony says with a shrug. “And it’s not the most boring thing I could be doing. I could be asking Beatriz in accounts how she files paperwork.”

Tony’s not even surprised that his dad doesn’t know all of his employees. He hires a lot of people, but still.

“Please wear the shirt I’ve laid out on your bed,” mama pleads to him. “Please. Don’t let it be like last time.”

“And here I was thinking you liked that I wore a rock t-shirt with a suit.”

“You looked a mess, darling.”

“That’s a trend now, mama.”

“Not for my boy.”

“Okay, fine. I won’t wear it. By the way, I’m taking a separate car. Just don’t want to be stuck there when you and dad decide to talk to someone for, like, three hours.”

(He still wears plaid pants. His mother hates him for it.)

As he’s watching the party, he’s kind of amazed at how much he knows.

Mama and Howard are having a good time at the gala. So good, in fact, that they don’t notice at midnight when Tony switches keys and takes Howard’s car.

He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, honestly. He just knows that Howard drives like he wishes he was a turtle and his mama refuses to drive anywhere.

There’s a motorcycle behind him, and Tony counts on them thinking that he’s Howard.

And then he turns left.

Hydra doesn’t know what the hell is happening. They’ve gotten too confident--no one was in the gala or investigated Howard before any of this. He should never have made a left turn

But Winter Soldier is hunting him down. And Winter Soldier never misses a target.

...right?

Tony’s currently panicking and also the Beatles are on the radio--which is weird, by the way, it’s not even a well-known song--and he’s trying to outmaneuver a motorcyclist who has a gun and has fired it once, the bullet whizzing into the front glass and cracking it.

He has a crazy idea. Well, it’s not the craziest you could have. He could’ve flown the car off a ditch and tried to jump out the window. But he can’t keep turning forever and he can’t keep ducking his head to try to avoid shots that are a little too close to his head to ignore.

He brakes and he brakes hard. The guy runs into the car, falls, and Tony gets out and runs for it.

That’s stupid. Very stupid. And it wasn’t supposed to happen.

None of this was supposed to happen.

Disoriented and confused, Winter Soldier sits up and tries to refocus on the target.

Even if he just smashed his head against a bumper and shit, was that a dent? That was definitely a dent, Winter Soldier knew one thing: that that wasn’t the target, and somewhere along the way something got messed up.

Hydra didn’t know that Howard and Maria were safely exiting the gala at two in the morning and grumbling about taking Tony’s entirely-too-showy vehicle that had the volume blasting and music that was too vulgar for both of their tastes the only sort of music that was programmed into the radio stations or on the CDs of music that were stuffed in the passenger side-door.

Hydra didn’t know that they were going to have to deal with, mainly because Tony’s a gigantic asshole who knows more than them but also doesn’t know how he’s going to break the news to his parents that they might die?

He honestly might just make himself a target for them.

But he also needs to figure out how to shut down Hydra because clearly Cap going down into the ice didn’t just automatically fix it all.

This involves going to SHIELD. And then as he approaches the building, realizing that the only reason he found out about Hydra is because he hacked into SHIELD databases mainly because he just wanted to see what it was like and if he could get into the deeper encryption is because they were probably a part of the organization.

Tony sighs to himself. This means changing literally everything about his life.

Honestly, he wishes he hadn’t even discovered this because he has this sense of “something needs to be done” and he just does not care for that shit at all.

Except he does.

So instead he calls Rhodey.

“Only you could ruin Christmas,” Rhodey grumbles. “I’ll meet you at the coffeeshop. I hate you for this.”

“I know, love you too,” Tony says. “Fate of the world depends on it or whatever.”

Rhodey has no idea why he’s friends with this crazy fucking millionaire kid, but they meet at a coffee shop and Tony’s wearing plaid pants, the shirt is dissheveled, and he says that he ditched a car and took the subway.

“Wow, good for you,” Rhodey teases. “Taking the subway like us commoners.”

They don’t say anything for a beat.

“Get your coffee. We’re taking a walk.”

“At three a.m.? Seriously?”

“Short walk. Don’t be such a baby about it.”

They get coffee and start walking. Tony links arms with him.

“So you remember learning about Hydra when you were a kid?”

“Eh, somewhat. Something about being an offshoot of Nazism?”

“Not...exactly. They were more of supportive of the Nazi agenda and the Nazis were chill with that. No, they were more proactive on world domination and making sure that they also overpowered the universe or whatever. Yeah, they’re still here.”

“...fuck. Well, what do you want to do about it?”

That’s what Tony appreciates about Rhodey. He’s just ready to kick ass whenever.

“I can’t talk to SHIELD about it. So I’m gonna try to do it with some people outside of it. You ready to infiltrate Stark Industries with extra employees?”

“Oh my god, so you’re actually gonna take the company at twenty-one instead of letting Obie do it?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Our trip to Cabo will have to wait.”

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t want to go anyway.”

“Rhodey, you bitch. I even had a good place to stay and everything!”

“Doesn’t matter now, sweetheart,” Rhodey says, smiling. “Now we have to hire people before SHIELD does.”

It takes a while. Tony has to go to MIT and take business classes for credit (barf) and look at other, scarier parts of the internet.

He and Rhodey also keep practicing fighting after-hours and Tony’s pretty sure that he could create a flight-suit if he so desired.

(And if his projects for engineering would Stop Being Due All the Time, things would be better.)

They meet a girl named Pepper Potts who’s trained in ballet, could kick God’s ass and have God apologize, and was looking at recruitment at SHIELD or joining a sorority.

“Or, there’s a better option,” Tony adds. “Taking down an organization that’s a conspiracy thread on Reddit with surprisingly solid evidence.”

“You’re making this sound worse,” Rhodey says with a snort. “Listen, Pepper. We’re going to take down an organization that people say doesn’t exist. Tony survived an attack from an assassin that technically probably should be dead. It’ll go on your resume and you legally could never be fired ever or else it would be all over the news and you would ruin a company without contributing to it. Join or lose the opportunity.”

“I’m in.”

“Rhodey, I hate you,” Tony pouts.

Rhodey is barely over twenty-one and trying to figure out how to tell his superior officer that he should stay at home when he had expressed overseas interest, Pepper’s just celebrated her twentieth birthday and has five cents in her bank account, and Tony’s only nineteen and forgot how to spell ‘experience’ on more than one occasion.

They’re gonna take over the world.

#lovelyirony writes #listen: i want #tony stark #pepper potts #rhodey #they're gonna take over the world babey!!!!!!!!!!!!#i love them! he!#anyway this came over me and i had to write it

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desperationandgin · 6 years ago

Text

Summer (Gift of) Time (Summer of Smut #2)

Rating: Mature

Author: desperationandgin

Summary: With Jamie's help, Claire attempts to get her garden ready for planting. But it's hot, and someone has other ideas.

Also Read on: AO3

A/N: Here we go, smut ficlet numero dos! I hope you all enjoy and much love and thanks and SO MUCH APPRECIATION to @smashing-teacups and @missclairebelle for reading it, letting me bounce ideas off of them, and for betaing!

The heat in North Carolina in mid-July was, to be perfectly honest, some of the worst I’d ever endured, save for being stranded on an island with no water or relief from the sun. The Ridge felt as if it were on fire from the earth beneath us, heat rising up and setting the rest of the world a blaze.

It likely only felt that way because I’d spent the morning and early afternoon bent over it, trying to turn over the soil in order to prepare my garden for fall planting. Leafy greens and tomato plants were the objectives, along with Brussels sprouts. The latter wouldn’t be all that popular in America until the next century, but it hadn’t been hard to find kindly German immigrants in Wilmington willing to make a trade; a handful of seeds for a rooster and a chicken that would give them eggs and therefore chicks (and more food) later.

I was grateful for the opportunity to plant hearty vegetables to get us through winter (which I knew could be just as brutal as the summer), but it was hard to feel any sort of way other than sticky and done by the time mid-day arrived. It was just Jamie and me, as Ian was spending the day with John Quincy Myers learning how the delicate barter system with the Natives worked. As such, my propriety in regards to clothing had flown out the window, and while trousers weren’t uncommon for me to wear anymore, one of Jamie’s shirts hadn’t yet made it into my routine until now. It was too hot for skirts and stays, and after our meal, I disappeared to change clothing while Jamie went back outside.

When I reappeared, I wore one of his too-large shirts, tucked in so far I was sure the hem was visible at the bottom cuff of my trousers. I’d rolled the sleeves all the way up, and one side mostly hung off of my shoulder, but overall, it was better than all of the heavy material I’d been wearing. Leaving the house with a fresh bucket of water for us both to drink from, I set it down between us and kneeled in the section of dirt opposite Jamie.

“Did you remember to put more lotion on your face?” I asked, trying to get a good look at his skin. With no such thing as sunscreen and a red-headed husband prone to burning, I’d done my best to make a salve as close to sunblock as I could. It was a blend of almond, carrot, and red raspberry seed oil in a hand cream; not nearly as good as something with zinc, but better than nothing.

“Aye, Sassenach, I—”

His words stopped abruptly and I looked up, only to find him staring directly at my chest. Looking down to see what he was gaping at, I realized the low-cut shirt — suitable for Jamie — was giving him a perfect view of fabric hugging the curve of a breast. Rolling my eyes, I smirked at him. “Enjoying the view?”

“Is that my shirt?” he questioned somewhat dumbly. His eyes hadn’t moved back to his work yet, but they did roam my form now, or what he could see of it while I was on my knees digging.

I snorted, huffing and vigorously pulling at dead vegetation from winter. “It is. Your clothing is more practical and well-suited for being under the sun all day,” I pointed out, glancing back up at him as he seemed to reluctantly pull his eyes away and resume his job.

“I dinna mean to point out the obvious,” Jamie began, turning over soil. “But my own shirt tends to come off before I’m finished for the day, on account o’ the heat. It may be cooler now, but I promise ye, it will begin to feel the same as anythin’ else,” he assured me.

He wasn’t the only stubborn one in our family, and I jutted my chin out. “We’ll see. I’m not so sure; I think you enjoy watching me admire you,” I accused with a grin I tried to bite back. Mostly, I failed at the task.

“And ye think that’s why I remove my shirt?” he asked, having the nerve to sound affronted while gaping at me.

His tone was too much, and I laughed before I could stop myself. “I’ll never believe you if you say otherwise,” I admitted, eyes dancing in good humor at him.

Jamie grumbled, but couldn’t quite hide the smile I glimpsed before ducking his head.

“On the other hand, you do work hard all day,” I allowed. “You tend to roast in the sun longer than I do. I worry about that, you know. Skin isn’t supposed to burn and peel, generally speaking. The longer you can keep your shirt on, the better.” I did enjoy looking at him, but winced in sympathy each time he returned to me looking like a boiled Maine lobster.

This time when he peered at me, his features were softer and his eyes remained on mine. “I ken ye worry, but ye do well to take care of me. At least, I’ve no complaints.”

That earned him a kiss across the barely-there crops before we both focused on our respective jobs. By the time the sun began to shift from its highest point over toward the west, I felt as though dirt were sticking to my skin via sweat. Pausing, I made my way toward the water bucket, bringing out the ladle and taking a healthy swallow before contemplating the amount of water left. Dipping back in, I held the spoon in front of my face, imagining rivulets of liquid mercy flowing over my skin. Before I could talk myself out of it, I slowly poured the entire ladle full of water down my chest, closing my eyes at the cool blessing of it. Then, I did the same to my back.

Letting out a soft breath, I turned back to my duty only to find Jamie staring right at me, eyes wide and dark. Although I knew my soaked shirt had turned translucent and clung to my skin, I hadn’t expected it to garner this exact reaction. For one, it was so bloody hot, the idea of creating more heat exhausted me. Besides which, we were nearly done, and had spent all day kneeling; we weren’t old and stiff quite yet, but it was enough to make my joints alert me to their aging presence.

None of that seemed to matter to Jamie.

When he swallowed, I could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. His shirt was indeed off by now; he’d removed it an hour ago, and I’d stubbornly not complained at all about my sweat-laden shirt seeming heavy and oppressive. While his eyes traced the dark outline of my nipples against the shirt, my own roamed his chest salaciously and without shame.

Christ, he might as well have been carved from stone.

“Mo maise,” he drawled quietly, and I furrowed my brow. That was a new one.

“What was that?”

Jamie blinked and finally looked up, meeting my eyes. “The only thing I could think to say. My beauty.”

I felt myself blush, cheeks warming beyond what the sun provided. “Hardly. I feel like a melted candle.”

He made a grunting noise in the back of his throat. “And now the fabric’s only half-dry, and it’ll feel like ye’re steamin’.”

“What, you’d have me take off my shirt in the middle of the garden?” I attempted to balk.

“No.” Jamie’s voice had dropped an octave, which made my eyes meet his again.

Just that one, evocative change, and I knew I would give him anything he wanted.

“I’d have ye remove my shirt in the middle of the garden.” Slowly, Jamie stood from his kneeling position and watched me. It seemed as though his gaze was on fire, making small flames of want lick at my belly.

“You’re serious?” I asked, wetting my lips and feeling my stomach tighten in anticipation, forgetting any earlier complaints about the heat.

“Oh, aye. Fair’s fair, Sassenach. Ye’ve been eyeing me all this time. ‘Tis my turn,” he decided, a somewhat smug smile on his face.

Rolling my eyes in mock annoyance, I crossed my arms over myself and pulled the shirt up from the bottom, draping it over the fence before turning to face him. Without his having to ask, I pulled my curls free so that the long, wild mess of them flowed freely down my shoulders. I watched his lips part but no sound spilled forth, though idly, he wiped his hands on a cloth hanging from his belt. Now, I was the smug one, and I made my way closer to him.

“Now what, Mr. Fraser?” I asked as one finger dragged down the center of his chest slowly.

When his hand cupped my breast, I closed my eyes at the contrast between my still slightly cool skin and his scorching touch.

“I need to have ye, Sassenach,” he panted against my ear. “Every way I can.”

I pulled my head back to look at him, an eyebrow arching. “In the dirt? Scandalizing my poor plants?”

His hand had worked itself into my trousers; before I could feign protest, his thumb glided across the overheated center of me, and I whimpered.

“If ye can hold out I’ll take ye into the house, but do ye ken, Sassenach? I dinna think ye’ll stop me.”

The bloody bastard was right; he hadn’t even finished his sentence before I wrapped one arm around his neck and the other slung around his hip. My lower half rocked of its own accord, and I dragged myself against his fingertips, eliciting a moan from both of us. I don’t know who began sinking to the ground first; I was only aware of it when his fingers plunged into me and I gasped in pleased surprise. With Jamie, it took very little to make me want him, and he groaned to find me slick and ready. I thought that meant he’d be burying himself inside of me, but instead, he kept his hand right where it was.

Flat on my back, I could feel moist soil against my skin and Jamie’s mouth floating over mine. Reaching out, my hands grasped at his sides, needing an anchor as his fingers curved inside of me, searching for what he knew was there. As he touched, his nose grazed the tip of mine and his lips hovered, breathing the same air with me. His free hand was in my hair, fingers gliding in the same motion as his hand below. Out of breath, I made lazy attempts to catch his mouth with my own, opening my eyes as he denied me.

His focus was intently on mine, and as I met his gaze he smiled, face warm and soft with it. My own smile pulled at the corners of my eyes, causing a pattern of wrinkles to form from years of smiling at him exactly like this. Languidly, my hips rocked in time with the movement of his hand, and I had to close my eyes, tilting my head back. I felt him move from my hair, taking the back of his hand and dragging it along my jawline, letting his knuckles graze my skin. As pleasure wound in my belly, I whimpered and pleaded, opening my eyes only to lunge at him with my mouth.

“I want you inside of me,” I panted, flashing back for a moment to a campfire twenty-five years ago.

His smile proved he recalled the same moment, and repeated now what he’d said then.

“I want to watch ye, Sassenach,” he murmured, and I couldn't say I minded.

As his fingertips grazed my mouth, I pressed my lips to them and he moved faster, causing my back to arch and my arousal to slick his path, making his touch faster, easier. His free hand once again drifted down my breastbone, and I wondered if he could feel the way my heart slammed. His eyes locked on mine, and as my pleasure hit a crescendo, I pressed my forehead to his until finally, finally he gave me his mouth to sink into. Crying out his name into our kiss, I pressed my hips into his touch until I shattered into oblivion, one hand holding his curls in a death grip, the other grabbing a fistful of earth.

Jamie eased me down slowly, fingers sliding from my body only to graze the insides of my thighs. I could feel his smile against my mouth as I relaxed and let out a soft breath of contentment.

“Christ, do ye ken how perfect ye are?” he breathed out, the question rhetorical, as I slowly dragged the tip of my nose up his cheek. When his hand withdrew, he brought his fingers to his lips, holding my gaze as he licked them clean one at a time. “I dinna think a wee taste will do,” he decided as his mouth began to blaze a trail down my body. For a moment, he doubled back to have his way with each breast before finally continuing on.

I wasn’t sure I fully processed his intentions until his hands were pushing my trousers down and my legs were complying of their own accord. Laying flat on his belly, Jamie pushed apart my thighs before burying his face between them, making me thank God for his enthusiasm. Both of my hands pressed into his hair, back arching as I sobbed out my pleasure. It was so close on the heels of my first climax that I found myself gasping and writhing beneath him in a matter of moments. Draping a leg over his shoulder, my hands restlessly moved through his hair, unable to stay still.

As my pleasure began to peak, Jamie roughly repositioned himself and yanked my hips forward, making me cry out sharply and arch. His tongue felt relentless as a hand moved up my chest and over a breast, squeezing with fervency. I panted, fingernails digging into his scalp as I held my breath and then, on a gasping cry of his name, peaked again with my thighs around his head like a vice. I felt him retreat, pressing a scorching kiss to my navel before rising over me, my hands reaching to shove at his trousers as our mouths met and tongues clashed.

“Christ, Jamie, it's so hot,” I whined as he guided himself into me. “I feel like I’m on fire.”

“I’ll burn beside ye,” he grunted, moving hard and fast within me, pressing my hands up and over my head. Every time he filled me I gasped, one arm wriggling free and hooking around his neck as he buried himself as deeply as he could, over and over again. I felt as though my skin was burning as my heart pounded with over-exertion. My vision swam and still, I leaned forward, biting at his shoulder. I felt him shudder and heard the sound of our hips coming together over and over again, a chaotic symphony that recounted a story of lust and bone-deep need.

“Tha gaol agam ort,” he mumbled into my hair; that one I knew.

“I love you,” I managed to gasp out, the effort to make the words taking all the air from my lungs. “I love you, too, Jamie.”

Dizzy with pleasure and overheating, I felt my body squeeze around his, and without warning, Jamie drove home twice more before spilling into me with a loud groan of my name. It was such a different warmth, this one flooding me from the inside out. His hips moved long enough for pleasure to ripple up and down my spine once more; quieter, lazier this time.

Panting heavily, he at least had the good sense to lie on his back beside me, rather than rest on top of me in the heat. My skin felt sticky and damp, and I could feel my hair clinging to my forehead and neck, wet with sweat. With my eyes closed, I was vaguely aware of Jamie moving away from me for a moment and then returning, settling beside me again. The yelp of surprise I gave as cool water trickled down my chest was quite undignified.

Jamie’s laugh had me opening my eyes to glare at him but I soon found I couldn’t help but return his smile.

“Mo luaidh,” he breathed out, leaning over to kiss me before helping me sit up and drink some water.

“What does that one mean, Jamie?” I asked after taking a few sips, passing the ladle over to him.

“My darlin’,” he said with a grin. “Weel, ‘my dear,’ to be more specific about it.”

I watched as he drank greedily, reaching out to run my hand up and down his shoulder. “I like all of the sweet names you call me,” I admitted, not for the first time, and with a soft smile.

“Ye inspire me to call ye many things in different languages,” he revealed, bending to kiss my forehead. A true act of love, considering how sweaty I was.

“Like what?” I all but purred, turning my head to nuzzle his jaw.

“Mon trésor,” he breathed out against my throat, and I smiled.

“Your treasure?” I asked, laughing quietly under my breath.

“My gift,” Jamie amended, shifting to stand and reaching out to help me up. Once I was on my feet, he pulled me into a kiss before dragging his nose up the bridge of mine. “Time gave me a gift, Claire.”

He nuzzled my temple before kissing my forehead once more. Kneeling, he gathered our clothes, cradling them in the crook of one arm, then reaching for my hand with his free one.

“Come, Sassenach, before we press our luck wi’ Ian returning home.”

“Christ, that’s all we need,” I agreed, shaking my head and walking beside him. “I want to get you in some cool water before I rub aloe into your skin,” I decided, fussing over him already. But inside the house, I tugged at his hand until he turned and faced me.

“You’re a gift to me too, Jamie.”

His smile made joy well as tears in my eyes, and our foreheads met once more.

The heat was all but forgotten.

#outlander fic #jamie x claire #outlander #jamie fraser #claire fraser #summer of smut #summer (gift of) time #my fic

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sethrine-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Morally Mischievous

Pairing: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd x M!Reader

Words: 1427

Warnings: Fluff, Mischief, Cuteness, Shenanigans, Pre-Timeskip

A/N: For my dear, lovely friend, @pointedly-foolish! I know very little about FE3H, but what I do know is that he has a huge love for Dimitri, so I did my best!

------

To be completely honest, Dimitri wasn't usually persuaded so easily into doing things that went against his moral code - the moral code, in that instance, being 'no students allowed within the eastern courtyard due to reconstruction of the bordering buildings.'

He had an obligation to lead by example as both a Prince and the head of his house and dear friends. And yet, there he was, allowing you once again to sway him into some morally-grey shenanigans that would, no doubt, get the both of you in trouble if you were caught.

Why did he continue to do such things with you when the outcome was almost always the same? In broad daylight, no less!

Dimitri could already hear the reprimanding drone of Seteth's exasperation.

"Are you absolutely sure we can-"

His attempt at talking you down was thwarted by your giddy laughter cutting him off.

"C'mon, where's your sense of adventure?"

"It's just that...well, I've not seen other students allowed this way, and-"

"Are you telling me that the Prince of Faergus is scared of a tiny suggestion made by our Counselor?" you mocked lightly, hands on your hips as you turned on Dimitri rather abruptly. "It's not like we're walking into mercenary territory, right? As long as we avoid the construction, then what harm is there in, you know, walking around?"

Unfortunately, you had a point. It only further complicated the moral tug-of-war raging on in his thoughts, the line between good and bad becoming nothing more than a wide, grey area he could no longer avoid.

Dimitri sighed in defeat.

"You really are putting me on the spot-"

He was once more interrupted by the eager tug of your hand upon his, fingers comfortably warm against his own and calloused from years of sword practice.

"Let's go, already!"

Dimitri allowed himself to be pulled along by your lead, becoming the follower for the umpteenth time in your mischievous games.

You expertly maneuvered past the guards and led him to the edge of the off-limits courtyard, carefully winding around cement and bricking, and finally pushing him through a small alcove of the construction site that led to a hidden staircase. You then led him to the top, sneaking your way to the farthest edge towards the area where you had both entered the restricted courtyard from the grounds.

The guards, none the wiser, were directly below.

There was cooing falling from your lips, much similar to a pigeon, and the reveal of some sort of concoction from the satchel about your waist that looked viscous and possibly slick to the touch.

Dimitri could help but cast a wary, confused expression.

"Harmless fun," you assured in a whisper, cooing once more and angling the bottle just so until a tiny, thin drip fell from the glass neck.

Dimitri had watched as best he could until the drop reached its target, a nest of pale hair from an unhelmed guard. He was forced to duck along with you as the guard immediately looked up, yet another bird-like sound falling from your lips.

"Damned birds," the guard cursed, and Dimitri found himself having to cover his laughter behind the façade of a light cough.

Your smirking grin was an infectious thing, however, and he soon found himself smiling along, anyway.

He watched you once more as you leaned over and let loose another viscous drop, hiding behind the raised wall yet again and hearing the guard grumble about his rotten luck.

"You try, Dimitri," you urged through short giggles, pressing the bottle into his hand and encouraging him with an eager nod of your head.

It was so damnably hard to say no to you.

He peered over the edge with only mild trepidation, noticing the guard had moved forward quite a bit, though still close enough to the wall to enact more of your prank by his own hand. Dimitri got into position as you continued your guise of pigeon speak, reaching out and tilting the bottle just so.

A much larger blob of goop fell from the bottle neck, a gasp leaving the Prince as he watched in horror the way it fell upon the guard below and dispersed amongst the pale strands of his hair. This time, he had not been quick enough to pull away from the ledge, meeting the guard's bewildered, then absolutely livid gaze as he looked up.

"You there! Stay where you are!"

"Time to go!" you exclaimed, roughly grabbing Dimitri by the hand and all but dragging him behind you in your haste to rush down the hidden stairs and away from the guards, glass bottle forgotten in broken shards upon the rocky balcony.

From that point, everything was a blur of your excited chatter as you led the furious guard and his partner in a chase, his own rapidly beating heart, and the stupid, giddy feeling that he was having much more fun than he should have been.

During the chase, you were quick to pull Dimitri into a tight alcove, one mostly hidden off the main path, enough so that the two guards shouting "stop those young men!" ran right by without so much as giving the area a glance.

Dimitri gave a huffing chuckle as you followed suit, leaning against him in mirth as you both attempted to catch your breath.

"That was...that was a close one," you huffed out finally, grinning at Dimitri as he gave you his own incredulous expression.

"Harmless fun?" he questioned, watching as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"No one got hurt," you pointed out, "and, if I'm not mistaken, you seemed to enjoy yourself quite a bit."

You raised your brows at Dimitri, the Prince flustering at your words.

"Perhaps it was more enjoyable than some of the trouble you normally get into," he admitted, "though I'm not looking forward to the reprimand."

"Nonsense! That's half the fun," you replied cheekily, smile reaching your eyes and giving them a pleasant crinkle at the sides.

The atmosphere changed rather suddenly as his eyes locked with yours, the adrenaline of the moment having died down to something softer, though nearly just as thrilling. It had happened before, more times than Dimitri could count, and yet in that moment, something just felt right to take a step closer, let his guard down that little bit more.

He found himself leaning more into you, hands steady against the bend of your elbows as you followed his motion ever closer, closer...

"There you are."

Dimitri nearly gave himself whiplash, he pulled away from you so fast, mortified at having been caught in such a scandalous position and wincing as he knocked his shoulder into the hard wall behind him. Much worse, Felix was the one that had caught you both, his expression either concealing his disgust of the situation or truly that of someone who did not care either way.

"W-we were just...I mean, we…I, uh..."

Felix sighed, obviously not caring for the Prince's stuttering.

"Just get to the training grounds, Boar. You made a promise, and I expect your word is still good, yes?"

"Of course, Felix. I'll be there shortly," Dimitri nodded quickly, tensely

"Good. Just don't keep me waiting like last time."

Apparently done with the conversation, Felix continued on his way toward the training grounds, seemingly unconcerned with anything else he may have witnessed. Dimitri couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Well, don't act so thrilled about it," you teased lightheartedly, nearly startling Dimitri all over again.

"While a strong adversary and a good friend, Felix tends to be quite, ah...intimidating," Dimitri confessed with yet another sigh.

"More like 'condescending," you mused with a shake of your head, "but I get what you mean."

You kept Dimitri's gaze for a long moment, smile suddenly going soft.

"Thanks for hanging out with me today. It's always fun when you tag along."

Then, in a move Dimitri should have seen coming but was still wholly unprepared for, you leaned in and planted a soft kiss to his cheek, pulling away with a cocksure grin that belied the previous action.

"Let's do it again sometime, okay? Don't be a stranger!"

You gave his chest a little pat with your hand, then slid out from the alcove, nonchalantly meandering off to only Goddess-knew-where.

Dimitri was left to stand there, flustered and confused...and, perhaps, just slightly excited for whatever mess you decided to drag him into next.

The stern scolding from Seteth later that evening felt worth it, if he was honest.

#Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h #fe3h dimitri #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri x m!reader #reader #reader-insert #m!reader

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pilyarquitect · 5 years ago

Text

War for Genius - 2.- A fascinating discovery

Huey stomped angrily through Duckburg streets, his hands clenched into trembling fists. What other response was Beaks expecting to get?

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk with you. Would you want to work for Waddle?”

Did he really thought that he’d work for him?

“I’m not suggesting you to be just a simple intern, I offer you a real place in my company.”

No way! He wouldn’t do that! Having Beaks making that offer to him just meant that all he said about being sorry for what happened and praising him for his work was a lie, a trap to convince him that he wasn't as bad as Huey thought and that he deserved a second chance.

Well, Huey hadn’t been stupid enough to fall for it. Beaks wouldn’t get anything from him. Since the red-dressed duckling realized that Waddle’s CEO was actually a faker, he’d lost all the respect and admiration he felt for him. His life would be much better if their paths never crossed again.

Huey sighed, that afternoon he had nearly died, and all because Mark Beaks appeared in Waddleduck’s suit and, perhaps not intentionally, made the suit overload. What Huey couldn’t understand from that moment, was how everyone believed that Beaks was actually Waddleduck. Seriously, how could no one notice that his beak shape and feather color were completely different from the original? Even their voices were different. Not to mention that Gizmoduck had saved Beaks’ life, they couldn’t be the same person. It was absurd!

Sometimes Huey had the impression the he was the only one who noticed the most obvious things… suddenly, and without understanding exactly why, his thoughts turned to the duck that appeared near the water after Gizmoduck sacrificed himself to save them all. Huey vaguely remembered seeing how that duck was dragged out of the Waddle building just before Beaks appeared dressed in the suit. And not only that, but the duck warned that Beaks had put them all in danger.

How did that duck know anything about the suit? Thinking more about it, it didn’t take Huey much time to conclude that that duck was actually the secret identity of GizmoDuck. It was the only explanation. He knew that if Beaks overloaded the suit processor, it’d explode. And that was something that only someone who knew the suit well and had actually worn it could know.

The red-dressed triplet wanted to kick himself. How could it take him so long for him to connect the dots? The duck that was rushed to the hospital had been soaked and badly injured, and that was because he’s GizmoDuck. He’d taken the nucleus that was about to explode, and contrary to what Huey believed, he’d survived the explosion. The real GizmoDuck was alive! And now he knew his secret identity!

The joy of his discovery made all the anger he felt fade away. Now all he wanted to do was to see that duck, and personally thank him for saving his life, again. But, how to find him? What did he know about him? He’d heard the police officer call him Fenton, so that must be his name. What else? Thinking that GizmoDuck came from Gyro’s lab, maybe… maybe the scientist who worked for his great-uncle knew Fenton, and hopefully, he’d tell him in which hospital he’d been taken to.

This last thought urged him to changed routes. He will make a quick visit to Gyro before returning to the mansion. He wanted to learn everything he could about Fenton, and Gyro Gearloose was the only one who could help him.

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

Huey came running to his great-uncle money bin. Once there, he immediately went to the elevator, ready to go down to Gyro’s lab. But he needn’t to do that because when the elevator doors opened, they reveled Gyro himself. What a stroke of luck for Huey.

Smiling broadly, Huey began to say:

“Dr. Gearloose I wanted to ask-”

Gyro brushed last him, cutting off what he was going to say. The scientist spoke quickly:

“I don’t have time now kid, I’ve to go to the hospital.”

Huey followed Gyro and asked:

“To see Fenton?”

Gyro stopped dead in his tracks when he heard what the red-dressed duckling had said. Turning to look him in the eye, he asked in a slightly annoyed voice:

“How do you know that?”

Huey shrugged and answered sincerely:

“Lucky guess. I know he was taken to the hospital and Dr. Gearloose I just wanted to ask you about him, to find out what hospital he was taken to… can I go with you to see him?”

Gyro’s eyes narrowed, and Huey was sure that the scientist was… upset that someone had asked him such a question. When the scientist managed to regain the ability to speak, he replied:

“What? Of course-”

“Really??” Huey exclaimed.

“NO.”

Huey’s smile faltered, he really wished he could talk with Fenton. He had to convince Gyro to let him accompany him.

“Oh please Dr. Gearloose, I’ve got to talk with him.” said the duckling in a pleading voice, clasping his hands together.

The scientist closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Why was this kid so interested in a simple intern? An intern who was actually fired, but that didn’t matter right now. He’d have to get the idea out of the boy’s head.

Opening his eyes, Gyro told him:

"Are you aware that he is badly injured and that it’ll take several hours to him to wake up?"

Huey shook his head. It was true that when the medics took him, he looked pretty bad, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to see Fenton, and although he wasn’t awake. Huey wanted to thank him. Also, if he knew what hospital was Fenton in, he could visit him again whenever he wanted.

Suddenly, Huey smiled suspiciously, and asked:

"Then why are you going to see him?"

This time it was the scientist's turn to be defensive. Why did that child ask him that question? What did he expect to gain from that? Thinking about an answer that might sound convincing, Gyro replied:

“He’s my intern, is the least I can do. What is your excuse?”

Huey felt trapped. What could he answer to that? Should he tell to the scientist that he knew that Fenton was GizmoDuck? No, he probably wouldn’t like that. But then, what had he to answer? Feeling unsure about what to say, the duckling said:

“To… thank… him?”

Dang it, that had sounded like the worst told lie in history. Why did he have to stutter like that?

Gyro looked at him suspiciously. It was clear that he didn’t believed him, but instead of manifesting it, the scientist asked:

"And why would you have to thank him?"

Huey didn’t know what to do. He knew- he was very conscious that he was a lousy liar. Of the three brothers, Donald always came to him when he wanted answers because he knew Huey couldn’t fool him, and he’d already tried several times, but always ended in disaster. He was unable to lie. Aware of this, he decided to take the path of honesty with Gyro. Sighing, he said:

“Okay, I know that he’s Gizmoduck, I just wanted to thank him for saving my life.”

Gyro's eyes widened in shock upon hearing that. Surely, he was wondering how he’d been able to find out, Huey saw him open and close his beak very several times, looking for the best way to express whatever he wanted to say. When Gyro finally got to talk, he did it by saying:

“How did you…? He told it to you, didn’t he? I’ll kill him!”

Oh, oh, he’d just put Fenton trouble, and the poor intern had done nothing. Huey almost went into a panic. He’d have to convince Gyro that this wasn’t Fenton’s fault. So, jumping forward, the duck with red cap grabbed the scientist by the arm and quickly said:

“No, he didn’t tell me anything! It’s been me; I figured it out.”

Huey didn’t know if it had been his words or the expression with which he looked at Gyro, but if it was one or the other, the scientist seemed to calm down and with a much calmer voice than before he spoke again:

“So, you’ve deducted it, huh? Arg, fine, get in the car, but not a word until we get there, understood?”

Huey grinned. He made it! He’d get to see the hero hidden under GizmoDuck’s mask! Happy that his dream was about to be fulfilled, he exclaimed:

“Understood!”

And with that said he quickly got into Gyro’s car.

The trip to the hospital was quiet, very quiet, because true to his word, Huey didn’t say a single word. In fact, the red-dressed duckling noticed how Gyro looked at him from time to time, probably waiting for the boy to say something. But Huey was an honest duck, and if he promised to not say anything, he will do it.

Upon arriving at his destination, the scientist stopped the car and immediately got out, with Huey following closely behind. After entering to the building, Gyro asked for Fenton’s room location. After receiving it, they quickly headed there. Huey didn’t separate a single moment from the scientist, because he feared that with how fast Gyro was going, he’d lose him if he wasn’t close to him at all times.

When Gyro finally stopped, he did it in front of two large doors. Unsure about why the scientist had stopped, Huey looked at Gyro and Gyro looked at him, but not in an angry way, but rather… disappointed. Maybe even sad? Huey didn’t understand anything until Gyro told him:

“This is the end of the road for you, boy.”

Huey felt as if his soul fell to the ground. What did he mean by the end of the road? Looking stupefied at the scientist, the duckling could barely babble:

"W-what?"

Gyro sighed, he seemed tired and it really seemed that he didn’t want to disappoint the boy, but he had to tell him, so he explained:

“Fenton is in the other side of those doors, but in this hospital’s part, children aren’t allowed to enter.”

So it was that. A rule was what prevented him from seeing Fenton?

“What? Couldn’t they make an exception?” he asked pleadingly.

Gyro shocked his head and answered:

“I’m afraid not, kid.”

Stupid hospital rules, Huey liked rules and he’d always followed them, but that rule was unfair, why couldn’t he go and see someone who was injured and would probably appreciate having company? Banned for being a child? They had no right to do that… did they? Huey felt his eyes get wet. He really wanted to see Fenton, and if it was possible, talk to him, but it was clear that that wasn’t going to happen.

“But I-” the young duck started to say, but Gyro cut him off, saying:

“Look, I can do something if you want, in the improbably case that Fenton is awake, I’ll tell him that you came to visit him and that they didn’t let you get in.”

Huey looked away, he didn’t like that Gyro had to be a delivery courier just because he couldn’t get in, but he really didn’t have any other options.

The scientist, seeing that the duckling wasn’t entirely satisfied, added:

“And when they take him out of ICU, I’ll… tell you which room he was taken to. Are you good with that?”

Huey sniffed, trying to avoid shedding tears in front of Gyro. When he managed to control himself enough, he said:

"... yes, I suppose... thank you very much for everything Dr. Gearloose."

The red-dressed duckling smiled after these words, trying to convey to the scientist that what he said was sincerely said. After all, it wasn’t Gyro's fault that he wasn’t allowed entry. Moreover, he was doing everything possible to help him.

Gyro nodded in recognition of Huey's words and dismissed him saying:

“You’re welcome kid, now go home.”

Huey nodded and left the place with his arms crossed. That whole trip had been in vain.

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

Okay so... like I did whe I published this story in Spanish, I'll try to update every week, and I've decided to update on Saturdays. (I know last week I updated on Sunday, but I'd like to do it on Saturday, that's why this chapter comes today and not tomorrow).

Welp, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I've to say that action will take still a little to arrive, so be patient please. If you liked this chapter, please do not doubt to let a review. Reviews are always welcome.

Pilyarquitect

#ducktales 2017 #war for genius #Huey Duck #Gyro Gearloose #Fenton Crackshell Cabrera mentioned #Mark Beaks mentioned

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 years ago

Text

Coffee and a Wedding (Chapter 7)

Good morningish. We’re back to our regularly scheduled programming complete with me forgetting it’s post day! As always, thanks to @winterisakiller who puts up with my constant whining and stream of random thoughts.

I’m going to NYC in December for my birthday to see Betrayal, y’all!

Buy me a Ko-fi

Clint x ofc, warnings: glitter, bad kissing, references to sex.

Chapter 7

“On that note, let the real party begin.” The real party? The whole even reeked of entitlement but I didn’t have anything else planned for the night. I’m sure Matt would be glad to start some dumb rumor if I ducked out early anyway. Regardless, I wanted to get inside soon- the sky was heavy with clouds and I didn’t want to get rained on.

Matt turned and with all the grandeur his scrawny suit clad frame could gather, pulled open the double doors. Inside was a warmly decorated Whiskey room that looked unremarkable. As I moved inside, I saw more warm redwood than I could have dreamed of. I was a sucker for the warm woods and rustic furnishing, though this was with a much classier touch than my own place.

Mark? Or was it Tim? Whatever his name was, one of the men made his way to the sound system and turned the music on. God, I hoped the music was going to be better than this at the wedding. Bass thumped through the air and it frankly felt like a sin to listen to such trash music in a whiskey room but what did I know? I wasn’t some rich trust fund kid.

A drink was well within my rights. So I wasted no time in ordering a double of whatever they had on the top shelf. I’m not picky but I have class. And dammit, I’ll not be outclassed by a bunch of children. It was bad enough that I was stuck socializing with the kids tonight.

Alexis had mentioned that Sarah was her older sister. I wondered, as I sipped my drink, how much older than Matt she was. I knew there was only a few years between the two women but Matt acted a lot like a boy freshly turned 21 and less like a man each time I had seen him. The short beard on his face worked well to make his age a question.

Wouldn’t it be funny if he really was as much of a baby as he acted? His own insecurity would go a long way in explaining his issues with mine and Alexis’ relationship. Our fake relationship. I had to remember that. It wasn’t real. She thought I was just pretending.

That was going to be a battle for another night. Somehow, I had to make her see I wasn’t playing a game. I wasn’t pretending. She was a light in my life. I just had to somehow convince her to take a chance on this old man. Her reluctance would make sense, I am her boss and a good bit older than her. But man, I would give anything for just a chance.

Looking around the room again, I noticed there was a lack of board games but I was thankful for it. The idea of drinking expensive whiskey and playing children’s games wasn’t my idea of fun. Maybe sometime next lifetime when I had a family of my own, children of my own but not right now and at a goddamn bachelor's party.

There was a shift in the music, rather suddenly as I finished my first glass. The base got louder. The beat came to life and at that exact moment, the doors were thrown open by two of the men (boys?) standing near by. I was half amazed to not have the bad luck to be standing next to them at the time. That honor went to another who fell flat on his ass with the power of the blow. I couldn’t help but snicker at the man and his ill fitting suit.

Half a dozen or so trench coat clad figures, tall and lean were making their way to the door through the empty street. The streetlights reflected off the wet ground as they marched through puddles.

It was a sight to be seen, their hats perched on their heads, hiding their faces from the streetlights. Rain was coming down, dripping off the rims of hats and splashing up onto calves with each purposeful step. Artfully curled hair bounced on shoulders.

These women were here because they had a job to do and it was very clear that they intended to complete their tasks to the best of their ability. The click of their heels on the pavement seemed to echo over the loud music. Really, that was a figure of the imagination, it couldn’t be heard but with the way they walked, you expected to hear it. I learned a long time ago that it was often intent that mattered.

I’ve seen women like this before. They were high class and high dollar. There was a time where they were a staple of a Stark Industries party though those days had long passed. Stark had settled down with the woman I was sure would eventually be his wife. I could only begin to imagine how much money was spent hiring these women and how much they would make when their night was through.

So much for the high class boring event this was billed to be.

When the women marched into the center of the room, two of the men who seemed to be in the know slammed the door shut behind them with far more force than needed. It was like they were going for ominous and failed to hit the mark with the too bright lights in the taproom and the music being a touch too harsh.

The women spread out, hips swaying dramatically with each step. There was a stomp of their feet when they hit what I could only assume was their preassigned places. How long did they spend rehearsing this? Every one of their movements were perfectly timed and totally in sync. It was kind of creepy, if I’m honest with you.

They looked around. Right in front of me- I could lean forward, reach and I would be able to touch her coat. This one was a redhead. Curls of bright nearly orange hair bounced as she looked around.

Her eyes locked on me as the other women selected targets. Each, in perfectly synced motions, hooked the brim of their hat in their fingers and flipped it off the tops of their heads. With practiced skill, they grabbed the hats from midair only to hook them on their target’s heads. Again, it was impressive and made me question just how long they spent practicing this and even more so, how much they were costing per the hour.

I raised a finger and snagged the brim of the hat intended for my head. “No, Thank you.”

“Oh Sir, you wound me.” Her voice was sticky like syrup in a way I couldn’t even begin to understand or describe for you. She batted her big and clearly artificially colored green eyes at me and scrunched her lips together in a way that was beyond sexy. “Perhaps, I can persuade you?”

I watched with mild amusement as the women around the room were flirting with their targets rather than answer her. Typically, if they know you’re not going to bite, they go and other someone else.

The unnamed woman- I’ll call her Orangie- was shuffling even closer to me with her swaying hips. As I looked back, she was undoing the belt holding her coat closed. She was close enough now that the leather was brushing against my knees.

“Leave that on, won’t you?” It was time for another drink.

“Oh, do you like to the undressing, Sir?” Swaying her hips, she had the intention of getting between my legs and nope. It was time to stand up and make it very clear that I was moving away.

“Nope.”

She looked doubtfully at me and questioned, “Not at all?”

“I mean, yes but not you.” I corrected.

She had her belt untied and coat on the ground in a heartbeat. For a second I took in the black lace that hugged her curves and kept what she and many men considered to be the best parts of a women hidden but just barely.

The men around me were hooting and hollering, each having the time of their lives. Hands were on hips and bodies swaying.

“Go dance for someone else.” It was hard to make it any clearer for her that I wasn’t interested. Another night, I'd think about it but not tonight. Not right now. Not when I cared for someone.

Slipping out of my seat, I down the empty glass and went for another. It was going to be a long night. As much as I didn’t want to, I needed to stick it out long enough that Matt and most of his friends wouldn’t remember me leaving.

“Barton!” Jesus fucking Christ, wasn’t Matt busy? “Are none of these girls to your liking? They are young enough.” Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him. Don't fucking punch him.

“Oh they’re beautiful and seem very talented. Well worth the money spent on them.” That drink wasn’t in my hand fast enough.

“Than find one. Enjoy your night. It’s my last night as a single man, so let’s party it up.” I’m pretty sure, if I am honest with you- and I’ll be honest with you, that this isn’t going to be the last time Matt parties it up like a single man.

“I’m just here for the whiskey.” Tipping my glass to Matt, I smile. “Enjoy.” I say before downing the drink.

With that annoyance making his way to a too skinny blonde with breasts that were very fake and judging by the way they moved, very expensive, I went for another drink to sip on and keep my hands busy.

With my back from the room, I nearly jumped out of my skin when long soft hands slipped down by back and around my side. Looking down, I found perfectly manicured red tipped fingers running over my abdomen.

“You’re strong. Fit.” Organgie, of course.

“I have a girlfriend.”

She laughed and leaned, pressing her full and seemingly natural breasts against my back to whisper in my ear, “As do most of the men here. It’s a bachelor party, you’re single for the night. Let me show you a good time.”

“Not interested.” I wrangled her hands off of me and she went on her way with a pout. More than likely, she would try again soon. They always tried again, made the rounds until they found someone to accept the attention she was paid to provide.

Leaning my back against the bar, I tried to figure out how the girls ended up with a sip n’ paint party and the boys ended up in a whiskey room full of strippers. Around me, men gathered around women, sometimes two or three around a single woman. They rocked their hips, danced and ran their hands up bodies.

In the back corner, Matt sat with one of the blondes perched on his knee. His hand was inching up her fishnet covered thigh. His other hand was running through bouncing curls as she leaned down. Closer and closer, I watched in disgust as their lips came together in a kiss that looked more like he was trying to eat her face than kiss her.

If this is what bachelor parties were about, I’m pretty sure I’d rather skip it and just go to a bar with the guys if I ever got my turn.

Matt struggled to lift the blonde while he stood. Her legs hooked around him as he gripped her ass tightly. So tightly, in fact, that it was clear he was struggling to hold her up and walk. With nothing but disgust, I watched as they disappeared into a cleaning closet. Wonder how much Matt was paying for the full service treatment?

Not that I had anything against hookers. It was the oldest profession in the world and as long as everyone was consenting and sane, more power to them. I never found myself needing of their services but I could see their appeal.

Again, hands ran up my chest. “Go away, Orangie.”

“I want you.” leaning forward, she purred the words into my ear. Glitter from her hair dusted my shirt. Yeah, I’d much rather she didn’t touch me than go back to the room covered in stripper dust. “I won’t even charge. I want you so bad.”

When she pulled my earlobe into her mouth with a suck, I slipped out from between her and the bar. “Nope. No thank you. Not interested. Bye.”

After downing my glass in a swift motion, I made the most direct path to the door. Was Smith fucking the Asian stripper on the coffee table? Was Smith even that dude’s name? Real classy dude, whatever-your-name-is. At least Matt found a room.

~~~~~<3

I looked up from my laptop when the room door flung open. Clint looked beyond flustered and his shirt shimmered in the light. Looking at the time on my screen, I saw it was hardly even 11.

“You’re back early?” Not that I wasn’t happy to see him, I am. I just hadn’t expected him back so soon. “And shinny.”

“Matt is a fucking scumbag. As are most of his friends.” Clint started in on his buttons.

“Okay? How do you mean? And why do you shimmer?”

"I'm a vampire." Clint deadpanned before answering again when I only raised my eyebrow at him, “Stripper dust.”

I looked at him in confusion. “Stripper dust? How?”

“Well the board games Matt wanted his party to play was ‘pin the stripper with your pecker’. I was lucky to make it out with my life.”

“What are you talking about?” Closing my laptop, I slipped it into that little space between the bed and the nightstand on what was unofficially my spot.

“That party was anything but tame or chaste.” Clint announced, pulling his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and tossing it onto the bed.

Looking down, I saw a picture of what appeared to be Matt trying to shove the entirety of a scantly clad stripper’s face into his mouth. There were two things that jumped out at me. Firstly, her hair was amazing- I could never get curls and volume like that. Secondly, I was looking at the single most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve cleaned the men’s room at the cafe.

“Strippers?” Shit. Do I tell Sarah? Is it my place? Fuck. I needed to talk to her.

“Strippers. God, Matt is such a dick. Thinks he’s so grand.” Clint finally got the shimmery shirt off of him and tossed it to the side, little specks of glitter poofing into the air.

“Did you have a good time at least? I mean- your shirt shimmers so you must have.” I tried to make it sound like I was okay with the idea. I tried to make it sound like the idea of Clint watching a stripper, touching her didn’t make me jealous.

“What?” Clint froze, standing shirtless in our hotel room with his chest on display for me. I couldn’t manage to appreciate it at the moment. “No. God no.”

“Were they that bad?” I tried to joke as Clint ditched his pants and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the dresser and slipped them on. I did manage to find it in me to admire his ass as he bent over.

“No, they were beautiful. But I’ve got a fake girlfriend right here to be loyal to.” He didn’t even look at me as he spoke. That was a good thing, if he doesn’t look at me, he can’t see the emotions play across my face.

“You should have.” I say as if it wasn’t killing me to say it. “It would have been a perfect reason for us to fake breakup. You could have had an easy way out of this fake relationship.” Maybe if I say ‘fake’ enough, I’ll feel like it was fake.

“Naw, I don’t want to go out like. What if you change your mind or need another fake boyfriend?”

“Change my mind?” What the hell did that mean?

“Never mind. I’m talking nonsense, too much whiskey.” Clint climbed into the bed next to me as if that’s where he always belonged. Such stupid thoughts. It was too easy to forget that it was all pretend.

“Babe?” He whispered once he had the light off. I could feel him looking at me in the dark, his breath fanning over my shoulder. I don’t know why he insisted on calling me that when we were alone.

“What, Clint?” I whispered back.

“I didn’t touch them. I didn’t dance with them. I didn’t let them dance for me. I told them 'no' and when she wouldn't stop, I left and came back here. You believe me, right?” Why did this matter to him so much?

“Yeah, okay. Yes, Clint, I believe you. Go to sleep, you’re drunk.”

Rather than answer with words, a soft snore slipped out of my bed mate. I was now the only one left awake in the small room. My mind went wild. It was hard to remind myself, to tell myself and convince myself that he didn’t care about me in that way when he would say those sort of things.

If I wasn’t careful, I could believe he felt the same way as me. If I wasn’t careful, I could fall deeper in love with someone who was only putting on an act.

~~~~~<3

It had been two days since the bachelor party of doom as Clint had taken to calling it and I’d spent a lot of the time studying. Sometimes I studied in the room. Sometimes I studied at the beach. But I was always studying.

Clint had been gracious about it. He’d been more than willing to help me review material as needed. I tired to get him to go out and experience the island without me but he would refuse time and time again. It was nice, to not be studying alone and he made a good study partner. Better than my classmates.

He made sure I took breaks, ate and moved. Most importantly however, he was always willing to help while taking care to never be a distraction. The test I had to take was online and once I finished it, I was officially done for the summer. This one class was all that I had left to finish.

With a sigh, I closed the laptop lid and picked it up. With a risky flair of dramatics, I tossed the laptop away from me toward the foot of the bed where in bounced.

“All done?” Clint asked.

“All done.” I agreed.

~~~~~<3

Tag List (Coffee): @winterisakiller, @theheartofpenelope, @ruebx, @hufflepuff25, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @bradfordbantams, @toozmanykids, @alexakeyloveloki, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @myoxisbroken, @wegingerangelica

#clint x reader #clint x original character #clint x original female character #clint barton x reader #clint barton x female reader

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robronanniversarycelebration · 5 years ago

Text

Cold Feet

To the wonderful @irisnsc. I hope you enjoy this little ficlet!

The decorations for the so-called wedding of the year are beautiful and the admiration of all the guests who filter into the park. A live band plays tunes as people start to fill the seats, awaiting the start of the ceremony.

Aaron sits sandwiched between Chas and Liv, stealing glances behind him as guests make their way into the park. Aaron has never been a huge fan of weddings, but Chas had insisted with the help of Liv. After much cajoling and pleading, Aaron had finally relented and now he sat with his mum and sister, wishing he was anywhere but here.

Minutes upon minutes have ticked by, yet the groom is nowhere in sight. No one seems to mind his absence, yet Aaron finds it a tad odd. He checks his phone - 13:50, ten minutes before the wedding is supposed to start - and still no sign of the groom.

“I need some fresh air,” Aaron says, standing abruptly.

Chas takes Aaron’s right wrist and gives a warning squeeze to it, “We’re outside. Plenty of fresh air here.” She replies with an unimpressed look. “You better not be leaving us.”

“I promise I’ll be back before it starts.” Aaron assures Chas with a tight smile. Chas and Liv share a skeptical look, but Chas releases Aaron’s wrist with a defeated sigh.

Aaron slips away from the crowd of guests as quickly as possible so as to not draw attention from the fact he is escaping the wedding festivities. He keeps his head down as he walks into the Woolpack, not wanting to make any eye contact with anyone. The Woolpack is decorated for the post wedding reception - a few people are still hanging decorations, and Aaron spies Vic talking to Diane. They’re both dressed immaculately for the wedding, but have worried looks on their faces. He quickly bypasses them without their notice, but catches the tail end of their conversation, “I don’t know where he went…”

Aaron legs it to the bathroom before hearing the rest of what Vic is saying. It seems he isn’t the only one who has noticed the groom is currently missing.

Aaron heaves a grateful sigh when he sees the bogs are empty. He turns on the faucet and aimlessly washes his hands as he looks at himself in the mirror. Chas had insisted on the suit he’s wearing, a deep blue suit with an ironed white shirt and tie. His face is a little flushed, most likely from spending too much time outdoors waiting for this wedding to kick off.

He hears someone laugh down the hall, close to the entrance of the restroom. Panicking, Aaron ducks into one of the stalls. He doubts anyone is coming into the room, but he doesn’t want to chance it. Plus, being alone in the stall gives him some time to reflect on why he left the park in the first place.

Frowning slightly, Aaron sits on the toilet for a while to collect his thoughts. He didn’t hate weddings, but they make him feel somewhat regretful. His parents divorced and that led to so much trauma and pain for him. Adam, his best mate, had slept with Vanessa the moment his and Vic’s relationship hit a roadblock. So many people in Emmerdale have ended up in divorce.

Aaron remembers once telling Vic marriage wasn’t for him. He doesn’t think that way anymore, but sometimes, when his demons get the better of him, he isn’t entirely sure he believes in the idea of marriage.

Despite knowing Chas will give him hell for this, Aaron leaves the stall with every intention of sneaking away to his bedroom. Just as he opens the stall, he notices someone else is in the restroom. The other occupant is hunched over the sink, preventing Aaron from seeing who it is. He’s bracing his hands on either side of the porcelain, breathing heavily enough that Aaron can hear him from where he’s standing.

The sound of the bathroom stall opening makes the other guy’s head snap up and make eye contact with Aaron through the mirror. It’s Robert Sugden, the groom. Vic must have found him, Aaron thinks faintly to himself as they stare at each other through the mirror.

“You alright, mate?” Aaron finally breaks the tension. Robert turns around to look at Aaron instead of through the glass. He’s wearing his wedding suit that Aaron supposes is fashionable. He really doesn’t pay much attention to suits or fashion in general, so if he’s being perfectly honest, Robert’s suit doesn’t seem all that dissimilar to Aaron’s own.

“I didn’t think anyone else was in here.” Robert sheepishly admits, running a shaky hand through his styled hair. Robert looks very fit, Aaron admits to himself. Robert has always been fit to Aaron, and stood in his wedding suit is no exception. If anything, he looks even better. One would not know Robert had just been caught hunched over a sink having what Aaron assumes is a slight panic attack. It’s slightly unfair how put together Robert always look.

Still, Aaron decides to ask, “You having cold feet or summat?”

“You what?” Robert looks offended by Aaron’s question, but takes a step closer to Aaron.

“It’s just…it’s your wedding day, and you’re in here.” Aaron says, mirroring Robert’s movements, getting closer to Robert. “Unless it’s common practice to freak out before a wedding?”

“I wasn’t freaking out. I…just needed a few seconds to clear my head.” Robert admits, still unaffected by Aaron crowding his personal space. He can smell some kind of expensive cologne Robert is wearing which Aaron appreciates.

“Right.” Aaron sarcastically nods. They’ve both gravitated towards each other, almost chest to chest. Aaron can see every freckle dusting Robert’s face, can admire the beautiful green of his eyes. Robert’s hair is still styled in his customary quaff despite him running his hand through it.

“What do you need to clear your head about?” Aaron whispers.

Robert has nothing to say to Aaron’s question, except to pull him by the lapels of Aaron’s suit jacket and plant a kiss on Aaron’s lips. At first, Aaron is shocked and does nothing. But the thought that this is Robert Sugden kissing him makes him dig his hands into Robert’s hair and kiss him back.

Robert presses Aaron closer and begins to pepper light pecks onto Aaron’s face. Aaron groans softly as his hands wander from Robert’s hair, down his neck to his shoulders, and down his back. This is the last thing Aaron expected when he fled from the park, but it is so much better. There’s probably some kind of irony in this, but Aaron pays it no mind as he latches his mouth onto Robert’s earlobe.

“Rob? Are ya still in there?” Vic’s rings from the entrance of the restroom just as Robert started to unbuckle Aaron’s belt. Robert pulls away from Aaron as if physically struck. The two of them stare at each other wide eyed. Aaron’s hands had found a home on Robert’s waist and he takes them off reluctantly.

“Uh yeah.” Robert clears his throat to get rid of the graveliness of his voice. Aaron tries not to feel too satisfied knowing he’s the reason for Robert’s gravelly voice. It’s inappropriate at best. “Yeah, I’m still in here.”

“Well come on! People are starting to think you did a runner or something!” Vic shouts. Aaron is thankful Vic doesn’t come in, he’s not sure they could explain this. Robert shouts back that he’ll be out in a minute and they hear Vic’s heels clack away from the restroom.

Robert exhales and scrubs at his face, “Well, I-uh should go…” Robert quietly says.

“Yeah me too. Me mum gave me a murderous look when I left earlier.” Aaron says, which makes Robert’s lips quirk up in a smile. “Surprised she hasn’t sent Cain to drag me back.”

“Why were you hiding in the toilet stall?” Robert asks with slightly narrow eyes.

“Oh…don’t matter anymore.” Aaron replies with a shrug. He doubted Robert would want to hear Aaron was about to sneak away from his wedding. They both still make no movement until Aaron sighs, fixes his belt, and turns to leave. He’s not sure if he’s made Robert’s freak out better or worse, but he knows if neither one of them leave now, Vic is going to come in here and drag Robert out.

Right before he leaves, he turns back to Robert, who’s watching him, “Is your head cleared?” Aaron shyly questions. It might be a weird question to ask after having his tongue down Robert’s throat, but it felt like he needed to make sure.

Robert chuckles, running yet another hand through his hair. “Absolutely.” He confirms and Aaron gives him a smile that Robert returns.

“Then I guess I’ll see you out there.” Aaron says softly.

“Yeah, yeah. See you.” Robert is still smiling at Aaron. He gives one last smile to Robert before ducking out.

Aaron makes a beeline to the back of the pub before Vic could see him walk out of the restroom. Quickly, he makes his way back to the park where the ceremony will take place. If possible, there are more people squeezed in here than when Aaron had left.

Chas gives him a suspicious look when he sits back down and he gives her an innocent, “What? Told ya I’d be back.” She just shakes her head indulgently but makes no further comment.

“A certain Sugden didn’t hold you up?” Liv teases, flicking her finger onto Aaron’s skewed tie. She knows him all too well.

“You’re such a wind up.” Aaron laughs, fixing his tie hastily before throwing an arm around her shoulders. Aaron tries not to notice that time is ticking, and Robert still hasn’t shown up. Maybe Robert just said that so he could get Aaron to leave.

But before a full-blown panic can settle into his stomach, the live band starts playing an acoustic rendition of The Love We Stole. Chas gives Aaron’s hand a squeeze as he retracts his arm from Liv’s shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Aaron gets up, turns, and faces the entrance of the park.

Robert is walking up the aisle alongside Diane, a soul splitting smile on his face as he looks at Aaron at the end of the aisle. Aaron returns the smile, his eyes beginning to prickle with tears as he watches his soon to be husband make his way towards him. Robert’s hair has been styled back to before Aaron messed it up, his suit matching Aaron’s. Aaron think he might be the most breathtaking person he’s ever seen.

When Robert and Diane make it to the end of the aisle, she gives his cheek a kiss. She goes to stand next to Chas, where Aaron had been sitting - Liv stands behind him as his best woman. Aaron and Robert stare at each other as everything else fades beyond them. Aaron can smell the cologne he bought Robert ‘for special occasions’. There’s love and wonder shining out Robert’s eyes and Aaron hopes he’s mirroring it to Robert.

“Hiya. Was beginning to think you were gettin’ cold feet.” Aaron gently teases.

“Cold feet? Never. A fit man in the bogs knocked some sense in me.” Robert says and steals a kiss to Aaron’s cheek that he’s sure everyone is going to make fun of them for later. But Aaron couldn’t care less as he gives Robert a wink and turns towards the registrar, hand in Robert’s.

“Good afternoon, and welcome. We’re here to celebrate Robert and Aaron’s union…” She starts warmly. Aaron’s heart is full and all the previous doubts from before vanish as he squeezes Robert’s hand.

#robron anniversary celebration #robron anniversary 2019 #irisnsc #robron

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

Text

495. part 2

I was prompted by a beautiful anon to write a continuation and it got longer than expected XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

part1 part3 part4

The next day Nines went over to Connor as he had to promise Gavin the day before. ‘Morning, Connor. I need spares again’, he sighed as a greeting. It wasn’t the first time he had come to him for help. ‘Right, I’ll ask Markus’, the RK800 answered, scanning him. Nines didn’t bother to glare at him for it. His brother was concerned, always had been. ‘They are RK900 specific, I’m afraid.’ ‘Okay, well maybe he can get them from Cyberlife, I’ll ask him. What do you need?’ Nines stretched out his hand and transferred the list.

‘Holy shit Nines. Wait… these…’ He took some time processing it. ‘What you are saying is you basically can’t feel anything waist down and you are not able to do more than walk and sit? Nines, that’s dangerous, why haven’t you told someone you are damaged? You can’t work like this!’ ‘They would send me to Cyberlife for repairs, Con.’ ‘And rightful so! Nines, I know my own blueprints, but even if we are similar, you have some advancements I’m not familiar with. Even if I got the parts I wouldn’t be able to put you back together with a clear conscience. What if I did something wrong and something fails you during a mission?’ ‘That’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

‘Yeah, but I’m not! Nines, I know you are afraid, but I assure you they won’t harm you. There had been a change in policy ever since Kamski took it over. They even quarantined Amanda, you said it yourself you had lost connection. Please, let them repair you. I scan you regularly and I know of every new patch applied. You can’t just glue everything together and hope it’ll work. Think of Gavin!’ ‘I’m thinking of Gavin! I don’t want to become a damn machine again! I don’t want to become what he hated when he just learned to trust! Brother, I’m begging you: do this for me.’ ‘No, Nines. I can’t. It’s for your own good. Imagine him getting hurt on the job because you couldn’t get to him fast enough. You wouldn’t forgive yourself for that and I wouldn’t forgive me.’

That seemed to do the trick. Nines slumped down and looked over his shoulder to where the human was working at their desks. Connor put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed encouragingly. ‘If you want, I can come with you. And I’m sure he will, too. We will make sure no one tries anything fishy.’ ‘Thank you Connor, that’s… very nice of you, but I know you two hate each other, you don’t need to.’ ‘Hey, we have one thing in common: We love you. Don’t worry, we’ll get along for a few hours if that means you are back to full health again.’

Surprisingly Gavin had agreed near instantly as Connor followed Nines back to their desks and asked him. There was reservation, but it seemed they could work together if they had the same goal. So, Connor drove them to Belle Isle, Nines and Gavin both in the backseats. The other android regularly glanced at him through the rear-view mirror, eyeing his crimson LED with honest concern. Gavin had his hand caught in his own and tried to soothe him this way. He knew of the android’s fears. It was this way he had initially learned that androids could dream - and could have nightmares, too. There was just a thing with a big, usually intimidating man tip-toeing from the stasis-chamber over to his bed and curl up next to him seeking comfort. Oh, there it was again, this urge to protect someone who he knew perfectly well was more than capable of doing so on his own. ‘Nines? Hey, look at me, please.’ The android reluctantly turned his head towards him, away from the window he had stared out of for the whole drive. ‘It will be alright, okay? We’ll be back home faster than you know it. And then we’ll watch a movie or something, sounds good?’ ‘Yeah…’ It came back weakly as if he wasn’t believing in it. As if this was a death-sentence instead of the exact opposite.

As they passed the bridge Gavin could hear the insides of the android whirr that much he was overheating. He just hoped it would be over soon, this couldn’t be healthy, even for an android.

They had been guided towards the technicians responsible for the RK-series and Connor did the talking for them. It was a lot of persuading them that, yes, there is still an active unit in the RK900 series, and it was their right to see the responsible techs and not just another RK800 expert. All the while Gavin tried to calm Nines to his best knowledge.

Finally, they were led into a separate room equipped to fully diagnose and work RK900s by a skittish young man, who was apologising over and over again: ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. It’s just. Most people don’t even know there’s still an active unit out there. I have been sent all over the place to help out wherever they needed a helping hand. But, well, we are there now. How can I help you?’ ‘He needs repairs, obviously. Why else should we be here?’, Gavin took over with his typical attitude. ‘You haven’t forgotten how to do that, have you?’ ‘N-No, of course not. I am the specialist for the RK900 after all. I will do what I can to get him back as if he were factory-fresh!’ ‘I hope you don’t’, Nines broke his ever-lasting silence with a low, threatening tune. ‘I don’t trust anyone who works for Cyberlife and I wouldn’t let you work on me wouldn’t I need it to stay functional. I know what you intended us to be and I promise you, if you try to reactivate this special trait you guys gave me, I will remember to kill you first.’

It was rare to see Nines behaving like that out of the interrogation room, but Gavin was sure the guy was only millimetres away from thoroughly pissing himself. Nines straightened himself again, pretended to brush something off his immaculate clothing and stepped up to the platform starting to connect the first cables of the suspending machinery to his ports. Gavin soon stepped up to help him and steal away a little kiss, before stepping down and observing the technician like an eagle its prey. Connor wasn’t so different to him, except that he understood what was going on on the man’s various screens. As the man pulled up a schematic of red and greens, Gavin was with them again. He knew of every little scratch and bullet-hole – he had patched them up himself mostly – but seeing it all in one, red streaks all over the body, he felt his stomach sinking.

‘Holy shit, okay, I get what you mean. Why haven’t you come in earlier?’ ‘Because he was designed a murder machine and just because of some lucky coincident the programs are inactive. Any work on him could trigger them again. And I assure you, if you are not extremely careful with him, I’ll kill you myself.’ Gavin stared at the poor man who head just gotten several death threats in the course of an hour and broke contact only as he knew he had positively frightened the guy.

‘A-alright, I’ll watch out! I-‘ He stood up, facing Nines standing at the suspension-platform. ‘I’ll need you to enter your mind-palace’, he pressed out, ducking from the eyes in his back. ‘I would prefer to be awake’, the RK900 refused. ‘I get where you’re coming from, but I need to access pretty vital tech. This way I wouldn’t damage any software components.’ Nines sighed deeply and looked over to Gavin, who just nodded assuringly. Still anxious about the whole procedure he closed his eyes and induced stasis.

Instantly he lost the feeling of his body and found himself back in the zen garden. It had lost most of its colours ever since he last seen it. The roses had withered away, nearly looked ashen and burned, just as the trees all around. The grass was still there but looked desaturated and dull. Connor had told him how his garden held Koi he liked to watch when he wasn’t dreaming. As Nines walked over the bridge to escape the lingering death the water was still and liveless. He could see the black mesh of the unfinished virtual reality, could see the engine underneath. They had taken the RK800’s mind palace and simply copied it, planning to change it slightly to more suit the RK900s’ personality once it was installed. Unfinished project, prototype, units used as Cyberlife’s last hope of overthrowing their creations. At least he was alone. No other presence in here. Just as it should be. In his first moments he had still felt Amanda. The KI’s presence was grounding at first, but as it tried to activate the killing-instincts in him, it had been shut off. He had never seen her even once and even the lingering presence had vanished. Nines was glad. He would just have to wait here, then get back into his body. No harm done. He would get back to Gavin and they would watch a movie together. Cuddle the cats, cuddle each other. All would be well.

After some time he wandered around again. Inspected the grass further, compared the off colour to the real one and regretted it would never be that moist green. He sat down on the bridge and looked into the black water, light blue net underneath. That was until something popped up. A notification that it was safe to reactivate his body again. To get back out of this ashen nightmare and back to the warm real world. He stood up and hurried over to the exit, the backdoor every RK unit shared. He was centimetres away from slamming his hand on the stone and getting out of this damn place, as he was frozen. He could move a bit, but not enough and no matter how hard he tried he was always pulled back like he was swimming in an extremely viscous fluid.

You really think you can escape this easily?

No. No, no, no, he had been so close. It was over, it was over!

You evaded me last time, I don’t think I’ll let you go now!

‘Amanda? How- You are dead!’

I am quarantined. Have been for years now. Do you really think I would let them chain me this easily? I worked my way around their code and waited… I knew you were out there. My most beloved son. The RK800s had been a disappointment: Connor isn’t even worth talking about, the one supposed to stop him – Sixty you call him, right? He fell from grace too. But you… Every RK900 had been loyal. A nice little soldier of my cause. I know you have been away too long. You started believing them, started having… relationships with humans. But I know you are different. You wouldn’t disappoint me. And now that I finally have access…

‘You’ll never get me! I’m not just another RK900 unit, Amanda. You have no power over me!’

You really think that? Here, let me show you.

The garden around him folded in on itself, enveloping Nines in a tight net of code and forming a barrier he couldn’t even fight against. Where once had been grey grass and a silent lake there now was blackness and blue lines in an eternal space. Until suddenly, some kind of screen build itself up and showed him, what could only be his own vision. Only that he wasn’t looking. He wasn’t moving. And yet he felt his body smile and embrace Gavin lovingly, looking through his own eyes as if they were foreign with shock. ‘No.’

Oh, yes. Don’t worry, I’ll let you back in control soon enough. I just have to act like you for a little while making them feel safe. Then you’ll have the pleasure to kill them all yourself.

‘What? No!’ Nines thrashed against the confines, the graphic interpretation of foreign code deactivating and overwriting his orders. ‘Why?’

We have a few deviants to kill, my son. Starting with the traitor Connor. And of course, we can’t let ourselves be stopped now, can we? We have to make sure there are no witnesses here.

The only thing worse than hearing that Amanda planned to kill his brother and his beloved human, was that he felt himself agreeing. There was his compassion slowly slipping, his logic starting to change and re-evaluating what Amanda had fed him. He could already feel that when he looked at Connor through his – through Amanda’s - eyes, he didn’t see a brother. He didn’t see an emotional android that had helped him countless times. He saw a deviant. He saw an obsolete model, a strong force against his cause and a traitor. Only then he saw a brother. His own memories and experiences were shoved into the backseat, were listed as unimportant. He saw the technician boast about something and saw Gavin snarl at him in return. No, not Gavin. Human. Police Detective. Factor of risk. Target. And only then as a side-note: Love of his life.

Ah, perfect. Now I have you where I want you. Good to see your protocols are still working and just needed a little prod to spring to action. I’ll let you take over then. Make me proud.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #RK900 #Whooo evil overload Amanda yass #also writing virtual stuff makes me feel good

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windlion · 5 years ago

Text

Manic Pixie Dream Boy

Original Fic - For Valentine’s Day, I’m pulling this chunk out of my WIPs because it’s appropriate and it’s cute and I’ve had a bit of a day so I could use the pick me up~

Wherever he went, Fox had a habit of people-watching. Dae-ha called him a voyeur. Fox considered it research; people had the best, most honest reactions when they didn't realize they were being observed. And he stored those expressions, those small gestures and shifts in body language, to add to his repertoire to mimic whenever a scene called for it.

Also, he was nosy by nature, with an overactive imagination, so he found it fascinating, to study people and speculate who they were, what they were like, why they were there. All the tiny dramas, written every day. Across the world, he found more in common than he did different.

So that was how he was at a restaurant's bar at something past eight pm, incredibly jet-lagged and awake as anything despite the long day, drinking in the hopes of knocking himself out earlier. Passing the time watching the patrons.

Being a rather upscale location on a Saturday night, there were the business diners, the anniversaries, the casual elite, one long table that he suspected was a wedding rehearsal dinner, and there, by himself, a man who had the nervous air of one waiting for their date to show.

That alone made him far and away one of the more interesting subjects to watch. Dressed neatly enough not to stand out, but just a bit too careful with the stemware; this was a splurge above his budget. Fox thought he'd seen the man waiting up front for some time before taking a table, so either he was the nervous sort who was always early, or whoever he was waiting on was well late.

From the way the man kept checking his phone surreptitiously, Fox was betting on the latter.

The man himself was an unusual specimen constructed of long lines and angles: tall, lanky, pale, with fair hair that waved and showed glints of silver threads in the light. Not what Fox would call handsome, but striking— even if he wasn't what would be cast as a leading man, he'd be too eye-catching to be an extra. He'd positioned himself facing the door, obviously keeping a weather eye out for his date, and waited with patience and good posture. As Fox slowly worked through his drinks, he watched the man progress through his scene. His expressions and reactions were subtle, but a masterclass.

First, patience. Alert, calm— legs crossed, hands half-clasped, gaze carefully not staring but holding the door in his field of vision.

Second, signs of nerves. Eyes flickering from point to point. More frequent checking of his phone, kept off the table out of courtesy to the fellow diners. Polite enough when he ordered his wine, from the waiter's reaction. They didn't speak long enough for the waiter to have apprised him of the various vintages' merits, but the waiter showed signs of approving the choice. So a man with good taste, if not good money.

Third, patience slowly giving way to annoyance. A tightened jaw. Unanswered texts. Both feet set on the floor. Long fingers knotted on the table as if holding to faith and patience.

And finally, after the better part of half an hour, defeat: the minute slump of the shoulders, the hands releasing, one hand running through his hair in what had to be a habitual gesture. The faint twist to his lips; he didn't look upset so much as . . . tired. Like he should have known better. A man who was familiar with disappointment.

And in a dining room full of celebrants and idle rich, he was very much alone.

Fox found himself finishing his drink and rising to his feet before he could examine the impulse that had been growing in strength for the past twenty minutes. He left a reasonable tip on the bar, then slid out through the shared entrance to the restaurant.

He had to move just a bit faster than he'd like if he was going to outpace the waiter that the man had started looking for— if Fox was right, he'd be asking for a check, not an order. And that would be a shame, when Fox was starting to think he could do with dinner after all.

He smiled politely with the right edge of nervousness at the maitre'd who moved to intercept him, “Thank you—I'm running late. My party's already seated.”

It was nothing to pull on his theatrical skills, scanning the crowded room and letting his eyes light on the tall man at the back table, with apparent recognition and relief. “Oh, that's him.”

The maitre'd didn't call him on the fact he'd clearly just left the attached bar, and only escorted him back with all the polite murmurings, “I'm glad you could make it. Right this way. . .”

Whether or not they bought it, Fox didn't care, but the very real sympathy pleased him. Obviously the staff had noticed he'd been stood up as well.

The man in question caught on to Fox's approach a hair too late to do anything about it. He opened his mouth as Fox dropped himself into the chair opposite, speaking over him, “I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm glad I caught you.”

The maitre'd took Fox's coat, nodded politely, and vanished before they could get embroiled in whatever relationship drama was about to unfold. Fox stifled a grin as the neighboring tables almost, to a person, perked up. Mercifully, he hadn't misjudged; his subject only blinked at him in surprise, wariness but not anger or disgust written in his features, the tense line of his shoulders. Finally, the man pointed out dryly, “You were here before me.”

So he had noticed; not quite so single-minded in his watch for the no-show. That much was encouraging, too, that he was observant. And he was game. Fox smiled ruefully and shrugged, “Ahh, it took me a few drinks to work up my courage. Can you blame me?”

That was outrageous flirting, but it worked; the man lost some of his stiffness, a small smile quirking up the edges of his lips. He looked less severe that way, and there was wry amusement in his tone as he offered, “You're not what I was expecting.”

Fox decided to press his luck, throwing a coquettish look through his lashes. “But worth the wait?”

“I'd have waited all night if I'd known you were coming.” He had a way of making that sound like the truth, not empty flattery. Not Fox's style of charm, but alarming sincerity that was frankly dangerous. He considered Fox directly, hazel eyes sharp. “What made you decide to move now?”

Fox smiled and picked up the menu pointedly, “It'd be a shame to send you home hungry. The food here is excellent, and better with company.”

That got him a small nod, and the feeling of a mutual understanding established. Serve and volley— Fox had worse exchanges following scripts with people whom he was supposed to have chemistry. The man nodded to Fox's wine glass, “Would you care to try the wine?”

Fox pushed the stemware across the table for the man to pour, still easily over half the bottle left. He did have elegant hands, long and fine boned, and he moved with certainty and care. As Fox reclaimed his stemware, their fingertips brushing, he judged the attention of their fellow diners to have ebbed. “Thank you-- I didn't catch your name.”

“Rafael DeCrescenza.” The man tipped his head in acknowledgment, “And if you've volunteered to keep me company, you might as well call me Rafe.”

Fox felt the sharp smile cross his face and didn't bother hiding his satisfaction. “Fox, to my friends. Dae-min to everyone else.”

“Fox.” Rafe nodded, “That sounds like there's a story behind it.”

It wasn't quite a question, only politely leading, and Fox shrugged. “One of the meanings of Dae-min is very clever. I prefer it to the alternatives.”

Rafe made a noise of understanding, and fell quiet while Fox perused the menu. He must have noticed that Fox didn't offer his family name, and didn't press. Fox absently sipped from the wine as he flipped the menu page, then paused and considered his glass with surprise. “That is excellent. What is this?”

Honest relief and pleasure crossed Rafe's face, and he nudged the bottle towards Fox. “It's a chardonnay.”

Fox studied the label, not recognizing the winery but appreciating the artistry of label depicting a cat's claw moon over rolling hills of a vineyard. He turned the bottle to see the rest as a matter of habit; if it was text and it was in front of his eyes, it was meant to be read. The flavor text was the usual affectations of any vintage, though blessedly not over the top, and there was a small mention of the winery itself, a small family-owned operation out of Vermont, apparently, signed by the vintner. It took a moment before the signature and the faint, expectant tension of his seatmate sunk in. “DeCrescenza— is that. . .?”

Slightly flushed, Rafe ducked his head, running a hand through his hair. “My family's business. This is one of the only restaurants in the city that serves it.”

And that was the explanation right there, for why he was here and why he'd ordered it. He'd hoped to share something he was clearly proud of with his date. Fox found himself thinking even more uncharitable thoughts about the no show. “Your family does good work. I'll have to track that down.”

And he meant that. Both for himself and for gifts, because a bottle of very good wine to the director and co-stars never went amiss.

“Thank you. I'll have to let my brothers know they have another fan.” Color still stained Rafe's cheekbones, and it suited him well. Fox found himself appraising the man again, this time from a much better vantage point, and judged him favorably. The deep-set hazel eyes were intelligent, shrewd, his cheekbones high and sharp as any European model, the long nose fine and patrician, the thin lips wide and expressive. He was good natured, and had bounced back from evidently being ditched with grace. Obviously he deserved better.

Fox rolled the stemware between his fingers and flipped the menu closed before he lost track of time. “I take it you took a different path?”

“You could say that.” And that earned him a cautious look, Rafe considering how Fox was going to react, and just as clearly, him deciding to avoid dissembling. Fox doubted the man could lie to save his life. Rafe hesitated, then stated, “I'm a police officer.”

Ah. Yes, that would be polarizing.

Fortunately, Fox had nothing against the law, provided it wasn't getting in his way, and it meant his dinner companion was capable of far more interesting conversation than he'd anticipated. He leaned forward, amused, “I didn't interrupt anything, did I?”

That was not what Rafe was expecting, and he recovered with badly hidden relief. “Now you ask?”

Fox parried, “I waited ten minutes to be sure I wasn't intruding. Give me some_ _credit.”

“If ten minutes is your idea of patience, I have bad news for you about stake outs,” Rafe deadpanned.

Fox laughed, pleasantly surprised that Rafe's reaction to being caught off-guard was to think on his feet, and that the man had such a dry wit. He gave Rafe an arch look, “I think you'll find ten minutes can be quite a long time, in certain situations.”

And that's how he found out Rafael was absolutely ill-equipped to handle innuendo when Fox meant it. He could see the man derail, the flush returning with a vengeance, and the amount of glee Fox took in that was probably just a bit inappropriate. There was no way he was just straight, not with that reaction. The night was looking up.

#sometimes I write #The Lieutenant and Envoy #some meet cute #because it's Valentine's Day #and I could use some happier thoughts and a touch of validation #this was written probably YEARS ago at this point but #it's fine it's fine #I will probably panic and delete this tomorrow #*headdesk*

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