#But yeah it was that and also the constant 'boy with the bread' screamed yeah

[tiffany-smith]

Is it just me or does Katniss always saying she can't do without the "boy with the bread" just... a trauma response?

Like I totally agree that she also loves him, that it's thematically relevant to the message Suzanne Collins was trying to convey, and so on... it's a good match...

But I definitely read there being at least a little trauma response in her NEEDING him like that.

She almost starved to death and he rescued her. She even has a permanent connection between him and the idea to go hunting to sustain her family.

In her psyche, Peeta is her savior. Of course she needs him. Of course she clings to him in life-and-death situations, when she's afraid, etc. Of course "it was always going to happen."

Gale said once, "the only thing I had going for me was that'd I could protect your family." (Paraphrased)

But Peeta, indirectly, at least in Katniss's view, has done all that and more. Katniss would never even have MET Gale if it wasn't for Peeta.

Perhaps it's just the canon explanation for an IRL predetermined outcome, but the role of trauma in Katniss' psyche deserves to be talked about.

[ray935sworld]

VR's academy of supernatural riders (Part 6: Lego, unwanted apologies and a phone call)

Mention of religious belief. They don't allign 100% with the taught practice as this is from my own believes that I decided to copy. I do not intend to disrespect someone or a religion.

Mention of injuries

Alex was raised Christian. He always followed their believes, at least those that went along with his morally views. Still he couldn’t help himself but believe in past lives. The thought that a soul would just disappear to heaven didn’t sit right him. Thinking that there was something like a past life in between or before going to heaven gave him chill he couldn’t describe.

He sat in his corner, his head on Luca’s shoulder, trying to sleep. No, he didn’t really try to sleep. He knew he wouldn’t fall asleep when he didn’t knew what was going on with his brother. There was no reason to lie about that.

Maybe Marc was paying off a debt of his past life. That would explain the accident. Afterall there was no rational explanation for it. It would also explain his constant injuries. It would explain why the arm was still a pain to him.

The irony was clear. What used to be his worst injury was now actually the least of his worries. Not to mention the eye. It was nothing compared to that. Back then, they had worried if he could ever use it. No he worried he might never be able to use his brain again.

Looking back, Alex realized that Marc must have been a terrible asshole if his theory was true. He already suffered a lot. How much debt did he had to pay?

“Do you think Marc was an asshole in his past lives?” Luca didn’t believe in past lives, Alex knew that. He chose to ignore it. “No. Not if he was anything like this Marc” “He is an asshole in this life.” He reflected. “He always destroyed my Lego-houses because he wanted the stones. Just because he didn’t like mine. Mine were beautiful. I used all the colours. His were organized. Who built organized Legos?” They haven’t played in years. Why did he think about it now?

He remembered how they played together. They even had small bikes and tried to rebuild tracks. They raced against each other which mainly meant waiting for the point they just put them at the finish line screaming they’d won.

“Yeah? What a mean kid” “And on track- he always told me I couldn’t take the corners like that. But he did it the same way! He is such a hypocrite. Have you seen his riding style? That’s fucking dangerous! Look at his scars.” “If you now tell me about his track war crimes in italian, I’ll drag you to the ranch. As if I haven’t heard enough about that already” Alex couldn’t help but giggle about it. “Maybe I didn’t had to worry about you and Vale getting along all the time. Maybe you’ve got more in common than I thought” His voice was playful. He didn’t mean it of course.

He didn’t know how long they sat there. Alex was a mess of memories. The older man that was sitting in the waiting room with them had already left. His wife had surgery for ovary cancer. Everything went well. She just needed radio therapy and she’d live to see her grandchildren graduate.

The kid and the mother were gone as well. Her other child, an even younger boy had ear surgery to fix a small problem that had grown wrong.

After that he went back to counting the minutes and thinking about everything and nothing. At some point he realized something else. “I haven’t called our parents yet” he admitted. A mix of guilt and relieve made itself known in his chest. Yes, his parents didn’t know that Marc was hurt but that also meant they didn’t had to worry like he did right now.

Now it was only Luca and himself. And the stars. It was already dark outside. A young nurse had come to them at around 7pm and offered them something to eat. Alex denied it immediately. He felt like throwing up. The thought of having to swallow something made him want to throw up. Especially bread.

Luca had given him a worried glance and paid for a big bottle of water, two apples and two packs of nuts. As soon as they were alone he made a point of asking (forcing) the older one to at least eat a little bit and drink something. If it wasn’t for Luca, he wouldn’t have listened.

“That’s okay” It wasn’t, Alex reminded himself, but Luca wouldn’t risk making him feel worst than he already did. “No it isn’t… If Marc gets worst… They have a right to… You know” “Yeah, so… What are we going to do?” “I… I don’t want to tell them when we know nothing but it’s been so long and I’m not sure if that’s good or not.” “We could wait until we have at least a vague certainty.” “But if it’s a bad certainty? Shouldn’t they know immediately? I know I wasted that chance but still.” “Maybe. I think at the moment it’s the most important is to do what helps you the most. What feels right to you, Alex?” “Not telling them” he admitted. “Okay, then we’ll wait” Luca agreed.

It was like a bed time story. He almost fell asleep when it was past 1am. It had been a long day after all. The mess of emotions tired him. So he asked his boyfriend to grab him a red bull. He couldn’t fall asleep yet. Luca bought two. One Acai, Alex favourite flavour and a tropical-yellow one, the one Luca preferred. Both knew it’d be a long night and both being sponsored by energy drinks, the needed level of caffein was higher than normally. It probably wouldn’t even affect them as much.

Luca sometimes texted his friends. They didn’t tell them what happened obviously. Alex read the texts as well. He understood written Italian very well, but Luca had to explain some inside jokes.

It was a good distraction. It helped him focused on different things other than the obvious. They later went through the Italians gallery. He told him the stories behind his favourite pictures. Alex knew most of them already. Not that that mattered.

He loved to hear how Migno had once accidently sat Bez hair on fire. Or how Cele had once gotten a speaking-stop after asking to many ‘why?’ questions and Franky had used the opportunity to put some kind of thick mechanical tape over his mouth. He screamed like a baby when the pulled it off and with it came the first hairs of the beard of the youngest off. Or what unhinged spooky stories Pecco had told them when none of the academy boys were adults yet and they had decided to camp in the garden of the ranch.

The hours passed and it felt like days.

With every hour he wasn’t sure if he it was good or bad. The only updates they got were “We don’t know yet” “We can’t say anything certain at this point” “Please have some patients. His injuries are really severe” It was never good when someone was in a long surgery. But if he needed it? It was good if they didn’t hurry and took their time to do it right, wasn’t it?

It was in the middle of the night when an exhausted looking doctor opened the door. He didn’t care about the time. He didn’t want to look at a watch right now either. He knew he’d just be terrified if he knew that his brother was in surgery for well over 12 hours. The head of surgery was exactly like he imagined her earlier. Old but not senior. Around 50, maybe early 60 if she has a good skin cream. Her eyes were tired. He didn’t had the energy to notice the sad look in her eyes as she approached him.

“So, how is my brother?”

“You must be Alex Marquez?” she asked looking at the Spaniard who had hurried to stand up and get to her. Another, way younger doctor was there. He was probably around 30. He gave them a neutral look with a kind nod.

“Yes I am.” Luca seemed a little bit lost like he wasn’t sure if he should leave them alone or listen. Alex answered the unspoken question by taking his hand, their fingers intervened, pulling him closer. “That’s Luca, my boyfriend. Is it okay if he listens too?” “Yes, of course it is, as long as you agree.” She gave them a small smile.

It was the one question he had to ask but was too afraid to actually get an answer to. His shoulders were tensed. He felt his muscles close around his bones. It almost hurt. His pulse was shot. He felt his hands shaking. The tiredness he felt was away, just like his exhaustion. The only thing that mattered was whatever he would now hear.

“Please understand, before I say anything else, that your brother is severely injured. We are talking about bad injuries even in your career field. There are wounds no medicine can fully cure. And in your brother cases, he sadly is one of those examples. He-“ “What is that supposed to mean? Is he… gone? He’s dead?”

Saying it out loud broke a part of him he already thought was broken. He felt Luca holding his hand tighter. But it didn’t make sense. She would have say it right away, not talk like that.

“He isn’t pass the dangerous time. He is still at a very critical point. His body is weak. Exhausted from the injury and we can’t know… How long he can survive in that state. There is nothing we can do for him at this point. He- His injuries were deep and very, very bad. His body kind of hit the emergency button. He is in a coma and we can’t do anything about it. You can imagine it like… Like a computer, you close everything you don’t need to focus the energy on that one part that needs it.”

Focus Alex. Focus.

He didn’t know what to say to that. It felt like a thousand punches right in the stomach. It was like someone put their hand through his chest and pulled out his chest just so he could see his heart beating.

The doctor continued her explanation. She saw her lips move. Word after word. Marc. She was talking about Marc. He should listen.

Only some fragments made it to his brain. He could hear the blood running in his ears. It was loud. Why was it so loud? He needed to listen.

No. Doctors weren’t supposed to apologize. She wasn’t meant to say sorry. ‘Sorry I cant save your brother. Sorry you have a dead brother. Sorry I have to tell you that you are going to watch your brother slowly died’

“… has internal bleedings… a lot of blood has collected in his pelvis… broken bones… spine…” No. Panic rise in him.

Not focus. Don’t focus. He had changed his mind. He didn’t want to hear it anymore. Scary. It was too scary. Marc would be okay. He’d be okay. Luca had promised it. “…brain injury we can’t locate fully when he is that weak.”

He wanted to return to his delusional thoughts that allowed him to believe the injuries weren’t major.

He felt his legs gave in. He felt like falling but he didn’t. Then he heard the sentence that gave him the rest. “It is unlikely he is physically able to overcome his injury. I am so sorry.”

No. No, Marc wasn’t a helpless case. He wasn’t doomed to spend the rest of his life fighting for a chance of survival that was impossible to catch. He had to see him. He needed to see that what his heart was telling him – that Marc would be okay and fine and that everything was a lie – was true.

He knew she was still speaking when he heard himself asking “Can I see him? Now. Please?” He didn’t care that he had interrupted him. She looked at him sad. Like she felt sorry for him. He didn’t need her pity. He needed her to save his brother.

She agreed and showed him the room. They walked through the corridors. It was early morning so only a few staff member were around. Still it was too much, even though Alex didn’t realized that they were there. His mind screamed for his brother.

“That won’t be a problem” she confirmed. “But… are you absolutely sure? He… His injuries took a tool on him and he needs, like I mentioned, he is depending on machines. He doesn’t quite look like he normally does” She spoke to him like someone would speak to a child.

Under different circumstances Alex would probably be angry at her for it, but now it was what he needed. Easy explanations. Saying the obvious. Telling him what to expect. He just nodded.

He felt his body physically hurting and the thought of seeing Marc as weak and exhausted as predicted took a tool on him.

He felt his muscles move without his agreement.

With every step he moved closer to his boyfriend. His shoulder now pressed against his side. Luca had already pulled him in, under his arm and tried to stabilized him. He refused to let go of Luca as they got closer.

They went inside and he wished he didn’t. He suddenly realized deep down he wouldn’t leave this hospital soon.

“You don’t have to” the younger man told him. His voice was warm. He meant it. He would go with him or sat in a dark corner trying to find the courage to face his brother. But that wasn’t an option for the Marquez.

“I do” he answered. “I don’t want him to be alone right now” “Okay, we’ll go to him but if it’s too much, we can leave anytime or just you if you want me to stay with him.” “Thanks” he whispered.

If he didn’t know that the body in the bed in front of him, he wouldn’t even be sure if the mess of scars, red skin, machines and bandages stiffed with tubes, was even human.

He sat down and stared at the body trying to see his brother under the white cover of the hospital bed. But he couldn’t see his face. The muslin covering his cheeks. And his head. His hair was shaved. He couldn’t even see his eyes. They were closed. The material was sticky. Maybe sweat or tears or blood. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

He sat down next to him. He moved the chair closer. Wanting to talk to his brother, asking him to wake up. He failed. He knew his voice wouldn’t be able to admit that the abused skin was the man he knew since birth. It didn’t make sense that the boy who learned about the world with him was now not moving. He failed to understand that the kid that taught him how to laugh and be happy, taught him everything he knew was not responding to his presence.

He sat there just looking.

He sat there for minutes and more minutes. He let time passed.

Then he looked up. Luca was standing a little bit away. They looked at each other, both wanting the other to say something and decide where the moment would go. Neither of them did. Luca wanted to but he needed to know what Alex needed.

“Luca” His name still sounded right in his mouth. It was time. That was the only thing he knew “Can you call our parents?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to recreate the events without breaking down. He’d just cry until his voice went dead. “They need to know about this” Luca understood. “Of course” It was out of the question that he’d do it.

Luca turned around to leave. In his mind he had already pulled out his phone when Alex stopped him. “Luca, wait!” He sounded so desperate it worried the Italian. “Yeah?” “You’ll be back, right?” His hands had started fidgeting with Marc’s sheet. A habit he had whenever he was nervous. “I will always come back to you” he promised and crossed the room with fast steep.

Carefully he put his hands on his cheeks. He turned his face towards him and gave him a soft kiss. “Marc hates it when we kiss in front of him” “No he doesn’t. He just likes to make fun of us” “Maybe” He kissed him again just to prove his point.

Then he left promising he’d just be in a quiet corner in the hallway not to disturb other people.

He thought about what he was supposed. He thought about his possibilities. He went through them in his head, weighting what was better and what would just make everything worst. A plan was forming in his head. He sighed, feeling unsure about leaving Alex alone for too long.

Luca had pulled out his phone. He was leaning against a wall, knowing no one would hear what he was about to say. He went through his contacts. He looked at the different names. Roser Marquez. He looked at the contacted and closed it again.

Next one. Julia Marquez. He stared at the picture of Alex and his dad that he had sat for him during a vacation once.

Roser had insisted he had their numbers. “In case my idiots are giving you trouble, querido, vale?” “Vale” he had agreed. It still felt weird to answer with his brother nick name, as if he would ever agree to something.

He swallowed, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to say.

He chose the contact he needed and pressed call. He put it against his ear and leaned against the wall. He waited a few seconds. He probably wouldn’t answer. It was unlikely. Maybe he should see it as a sign. Throw away the plan and –

“Who the fuck calls at this time?” Maybe that was his actual sign. Maybe he was supposed to go through with his plan. Maybe he had to.

“Asshole, do you know what time it is? Who is that even?” “It’s me. Luca.” There was a break at the end of the line, like he was thinking. “What happened?” His voice had lost the morning angriness he always had when he was woken up too early.

He knew he meant what he would say. It was cruel. He didn’t want to ask him but he had to. “I am so sorry for what I am about to ask you. I wouldn’t if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Please believe me that, Franky.”

[britcision]

Listen. Could Dead and Loving It be a fraction of the length and maybe finished by now if I only focused on Danny and Jason?

Possibly

Would it be a better story?

Probably, from several perspectives

But it absolutely would not be the same story, and nor would it be the story I want to tell

Because I am hopelessly addicted to ensemble casts, and I don’t want the boys to exist in a vacuum. I want Jason to run off with his siblings and with Danny’s friends, and I want Danny to fuck with the bats

I want them to touch all the parts of each others lives that existed before they met, and will still continue to exist after even if things change forever between them

I want all the background characters to interact with each other, have their own inner worlds and their own motivations, and yeah, this absolutely means this is not an efficient telling of a slow burn romance

Because the story isn’t the slow burn romance

The story is these two people, and the world they live in, the story is the way Duke and Cass both see Jason differently than Dick and Tim ever could and that matters, and that none of them are wrong

The story is Danny finally telling people who will listen about the Anti-Ecto Acts, and all the fucked up things the GIW do, and being able to ask for help and have that be okay

The story is messy and complicated and will have so many rises and falls, so many pivotal moments that are drama and combat and so many that are just two people talking to each other and finally seeing eye to eye

The story is the way that Jason’s relationships with his family can finally mend, now that he has someone who can get him the help he’s needed

The story is the way that Danny can come to terms with the responsibilities of being a king, the constant question of agency and power and what he’s worth if he’s only Danny and not the Ghost King

The story is Clockwork fucking with the pair of them because he specifically thinks it’s funny (he’s right)

And yeah, there’s a slow burn romance in there. There’s also a coming of age tale, and a story about healing and reconciling and moving forward knowing you cannot change the past, but you can do better

Unless fucking Clockwork decides you can change the past because yeah then it’s fine to just go do that I guess

I was kinda considering breaking the story out into multiple chunks because holy fuck is 100k an intimidating chunk of words, but I’m not gonna

It’s all one story, and you will be my hapless victims as we get to fucking 300k or wherever this beast ends because we are not here for efficient story telling and motion of the plot

We’re here for the connections, the characters, the meaningless bullshit that would absolutely be cut in anything anyone ever wanted to sell, cuz I am not selling this

Imma write every fucking scene I wish I got from books, TV, movies, podcasts, actual plays, every fucking time I scream at the characters to just fucking talk to each other because messy is good too

Messy is okay

Stories don’t need to be marketable to be worth telling, and this one’s gonna be too long and intimidating for some people and that’s okay

But I fuckin’ rolled in from Critical Role which averages around 500 hours of content per campaign and a cast of 7 plus Matt’s NPCs

And I STILL want more goddamn character moments from all of them so I haven’t found a size yet that I can’t manage

I love reading focused stories that I can get through fast, and fuck, look at the rest of my AO3; I will fucking never diss a one shot, or a short story, or a piece that really focuses in on one or two characters

Delicious, I love them, my bread and butter

It’s just not what this mess is gonna be, and that’s okay too

Gods be fucking willing we will not have another six chapters that take place over the course of three hours, but we’ll just have to see how that shakes out cuz I’m being possessed by a seemingly infinite number of plot bunnies and my own tendency for “hey it’d be funny if”

And oh boy has it been funny every time

[waitimcomingtoo]

Mackie

Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader

Synopsis: any chance he gets, Anthony teases you and Tom about your relationship

Masterlist

Anthony Mackie was onto you.

It all started when he realized you and Tom weren’t actually dating, like he thought you were.

“Which Avenger would you sleep with if given the chance?” The journalist asked you, Brie, and Scarlett during a junket.

“Tom Holland.” You answered immediately. “Oh, did you mean the character?”

The girls laughed at your answer as you shrunk down in your seat. Everyone else answered with Thor, making your answer stick out even more.

“Wait, did they ask the guys this?” You wondered. “And follow up, did Tom say me?”

“I can ask.” The journalist chuckled and pulled out her phone. “My friend Jack is interviewing them in the other room.”

“Oh My God.” Brie groaned. “Now I want to know.”

You held your breath in anticipation as you waited for Jack to text back. Finally, the journalist felt a buzz and checked her phone.

“Tom did in fact say your character.” She laughed as she showed you the text.

“He did?” Your eyes widened. “Oh my God. That’s it. We’re having sex tonight. I’m telling him right now.”

The cast laughed at your antics as you sent Tom and quick text and shut off your phone to pay attention to the rest of the interview. You knew it was a joke, but you forgot that Tom didn’t know the context of your text. So when he checked in phone in the room where the boys were being interviewed, he was quite confused.

“I just got a text from Y/n saying “we’re having sex tonight” in all caps.” He laughed in shock. “What is going on?”

“Damn.” Anthony stated. “She texts you in advance?”

“No.” Tom blushed. “We’re not even together.”

“What are you talking about?” Anthony asked. “I thought you were?”

“We’re not.” Tom insisted. He always hated when he was reminded of the fact that you and him were just friends and he didn’t want to stay on the topic.

Anthony, on the other hand, wasn’t as inclined to let it go. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Tom, always looking for new ways to bother his younger cast mate.

“Hm.” Anthony drawled. “Interesting.”

A few months later, Tom, Anthony, and Sebastian were invited to a comic con in Chicago. They were known as one of the more chaotic pairings of cast members, so the interview consisted of constant digs at one another. And of course, Anthony took any chance he got to tease you and Tom.

“You must spend a lot of time together when filming these movies.” The journalist said to the couch. “Do you guys hang out off set too? Are there any Avenger pool parties we don’t know about?”

“Look, Toms a little asshole.” Anthony began. “Him and his little girlfriend are absolute children on set. We can’t take them anywhere.”

“His girlfriend?” The journalist asked.

“I mean Y/n.” He corrected, making the audience cheer. “They say they’re not dating but we all know.”

“We’re not.” Tom whined into his mic. “Stop saying that. People are gonna start believing you.”

“Because it’s true!” Anthony insisted. “You should see the two of them on set. They’re always touching and hugging. And I’m pretty sure I caught them in the dressing room one time. I won’t say what they were doing, but I could hear the bed creaking.”

Tom turned bright red and covered his face. He knew Anthony was just teasing, but it still embarrassed him. He collected himself and held his microphone up again, ready to dish it back to Anthony.

“You’re just mad because she likes me more.” Tom said, eliciting cheers from the audience.

“Uh uh.” Anthony shook his head. “Shes loves me. All the ladies love me.”

“Not Y/n.” Tom shook his head. “She loves me.”

“I think we can all agree Y/n loves me the best.” Sebastian cut in smugly. “It’s fairly obvious.”

“Did someone say my name?” Your voice sounded from a microphone, making everyone scream. Tom, Anthony, and Sebastian looked at each other in confusion upon hearing your voice.

“Wait, what?” Anthony laughed into his microphone as he looked around. Suddenly, your characters theme song came on the speakers as you came out from backstage.

“Hi!” You came out onto the stage waving. The crowd stood up upon your arrival and became deafening. Tom turned around, caught sight of you, and bolted out of his seat.

“Y/n?” He asked as he ran towards you. He immediately scooped you up in a hug, lifting you off the ground to spin you around.

“Hi Tommy.” You mumbled in his ear as you squeezed him back. Tom set you down but continued hugging you, kissing the side of your face multiple times. The audience went wild at this display of affection, prompting you to kiss his cheek back. You walked back to the couch hand in hand, taking a seat next to each other.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Tom said into his mic as he picked it back up.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You laughed, earning more cheers. “I’m filming something in Toronto but I wouldn’t miss a convention for the world. And I wanted to see you.”

Tom pouted and pulled you into another long hug. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen him, so you pressed a long kiss to his cheek.

“Do we all get kisses or just Tom?” Anthony asked, interrupting the moment.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Sebastian spoke up.

“Seb can have one but I’m not coming near you.” You teased as you walked over to Sebastian. You bent down to kiss his cheek before sticking your tongue out at Anthony.

“You look so pretty, darling.” Tom said once you sat back down.

“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m so jet lagged.”

“I don’t look nearly this beautiful when I’m jet lagged.” Tom complimented you.

“Oh, I beg to differ.” You complimented back.

“Kiss kiss kiss kiss.” Anthony chanted into his mic while pumping his fist. The crowd roared as you and Tom rolled your eyes.

“Don’t start, Anthony.” You told him. “He does this all the time.”

“So I’ve heard.” The journalist laughed. “How was your flight, Y/n?”

You settled into Tom’s side as you talked about your flight and other random things. When the attention was off you, Tom slipped his arm around you and let it rest on the back of the couch. He felt you shiver at one point and realized you were sitting right under the air conditioning.

“Are you cold?” He asked you, making the audience laugh.

“A little.” You said sheepishly. He immediately took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, making the crowd go wild.

“Thanks, Tommy.” You chuckled as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. They were warm from his body heat and his cologne was lingering on the collar.

“Wow.” Anthony started up again. “You guys look like a couple.”

“A couple of besties.” You said quickly, making Tom shake his head.

“Uh huh.” Anthony said sarcastically. “If you guys aren’t dating, then why are you two always touching?”

“Because we love each other.” Tom snapped playfully. “You just don’t understand because girls don’t want to touch you.”

“Damn.” Anthony laughed. “Y/n, are you gonna let your boyfriend talk to me like that?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You replied. “We would make a terrible couple. I still haven’t forgiven him for the stamp act and I don’t see us getting past that.”

“Baby, it wasn’t me.” Tom played along. “It was my ancestors. I’d never tax your stamps.”

“Uh Uh.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s what they all say.”

“I’m gonna move on before I break you guys up.” The journalist teased, making you and Tom roll your eyes. “You guys have been playing these characters for a while so you must know them pretty well. What is something you have in common with your character?”

“That’s easy.” Anthony answered. “We’re both a cool black dude.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” Tom joked, earning some laughs.

“Easy there, wonder bread.” Anthony laughed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“What about you, Y/n?” The journalist asked. “What do you have in common with your character?”

“Something my character and I have in common is that we both fuck this man.” You smiled as you clapped Tom on the back. Everyone on the couch’s jaw dropped as the crowd became deafening. Tom looked at you incredulously as you laughed.

“I’m just kidding.” You laughed into your microphone. “Um, I don’t know. We’re both pretty passionate about what we believe in. And we both wear a lot of black.”

“What?” Sebastian laughed. “You can’t just say that. That was a total 180.”

“I’m sorry.” You whined playfully. “It was a perfect opportunity and I had to take it.”

“I am literally speechless.” Tom said into his mic before breaking down into laughter. You leaned into each other as you laughed, not caring if no one else found it funny.

“I’m sorry.” You giggled. “Can we move on? Next question, please.”

“All right. Let’s talk about this kiss between your character and Loki.” The journalist began.

“Uh oh.” Anthony stirred the pot again. “Toms not gonna like this.”

“I don’t care.” Tom shrugged, but it was obvious that he was lying. You rested your hand on his shoulder to reassure him as you turned to answer the question.

“I actually had a lot of qualms before filming that scene.” You replied.

“Qualms?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’m good friends with Taylor Swift so the first time I met Hiddleston, it was as her boyfriend. So the whole thing gave me serious qualms. I felt like I was breaking girl code.”

“That’s surprising since you improvised one of the kisses.” Sebastian, also looking for drama, cut in. “I remember you were only supposed to kiss once and you went in for second.”

“Well that was after a few takes and my qualms had dispersed.” You shot back.

“You hear that?” Anthony smirked. “She had no qualms.”

“I still felt so bad but those thoughts were soon replaced by “oh my God, I’m kissing Tom Hiddleston.” My qualms didn’t stand a chance to him in that wig.” You chuckled. You felt Tom tense up under your hand so you squeezed his shoulder.

“I know.” The journalist agreed. “He’s very dreamy.”

“Exactly. We were three takes in and my pussy starts screaming, “get help! Get help!”” ,You mimicked Thor’s voice, “so I knew my qualms were gone.”

You once again had all the jaws dropped with your words. Tom buried his face in your neck as he laughed, his whole body shaking.

“That’s one way to put it.” The journalist said as he wiped tears. “I have to ask. Which Tom did you like kissing more?”

“I liked kissing Tom H the best.” You said cheekily.

“Ooo.” Anthony started again. “Are we about to witness a couples quarrel?”

“I think so.” Tom played along. He pretended to look annoyed with you so you cupped his face.

“I’m kidding.” You assured him. “It was so you.”

“It better be.” He insisted. “Remember you kissed me after we shot the swinging scene and we weren’t even filming?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “I was in love with you that day.”

“What happened?” The journalist wondered.

“Well, I grew up loving Spiderman.” You explained. “So spending the day swinging around in Toms arms while he was in the suit meant so much to me. The second Tom took his mask off, I just kissed him.”

“Is that when you started dating?” Sebastian asked.

“No. It is not.” Tom shoved him playfully.

The rest of the convention went by in a similar fashion, with Anthony taking every opportunity to tease you. Once you said your goodbyes to the crowd, you and Tom walked back to your dressing room with your arms around each other.

“I can’t believe Mackie still thinks we’re dating.” Tom sighed as he shut the door behind him.

“I know.” You chuckled before an idea came to you. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we actually started dating and didn’t tell him? Like, as a joke?”

“That would be hilarious.” Tom nodded too many times. “Like, I could ask you out right now and he’d have no idea. We could go on dates and make out and stuff and just not tell him. That’ll show him.”

“We should totally do that. As a joke.” You quickly followed.

“We should.” Tom nodded. “Imagine his face when he finds out we started dating and didn’t tell him? It’ll be priceless.”

“Ugh, I can’t wait.” You sighed happily. “He would lose his mind if he found out we finally started dating.”

“Did you say finally?” Tom asked with a coy smile. Your face fell when you realized you had said a little too much.

“I did.” You said softly. “Because it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”

“So have I. In that case,” Tom smiled shyly, “Y/n would you like to go on a d-“

“Yes.” You cut him off before he could even finish. “I would.”

2 years later

On a rare day off, you and Tom attended a barbecue in Anthony’s backyard with a few of the other cast members. You were sat on Tom’s lap, full off food and contently listening to the ongoing conversation.

“These burgers are great.” Chris said as he patted Anthony’s back. “Thanks for barbecuing.”

“I got you, man.” Anthony nodded. “I actually got the recipe for the blend from one of the caterers on set. Remember that place that catered lunch with the really good cornbread and burgers?”

“I do remember.” Scarlett smiled to herself. “The filming schedule worked out so all got to eat together that day. That was so nice.”

“It was nice.” Anthony agreed. “Just sitting in the sun in our costumes and bibs. We had some fun conversations going on. I’m pretty sure that was the day Tom and Y/n started dating.”

“No.” Tom rolled his eyes. “We started dating after that one convention. Remember the one where Y/n surprised us on stage? We started dating that night.”

“Wait, you guys are actually dating?” Anthony sat up in his seat. “I was just playing with you.”

“We know. So we played with you right back.” You shrugged smugly. “We started dating to get back at you for all the jokes.”

The rest of the cast exchanged confused looks as you and Tom relished in your victory.

“But....” Anthony blinked in confusion, “you didn’t tell me until two years later.”

“Yeah. Because we were committed to the joke.” Tom said like it was obvious.

“Duh.” You added.

“Let me get this straight.” Antony rubbed his temples. “You started dating as a way to get back at me for teasing you?”

“Yep.”

“But you didn’t tell him you started dating.” Scarlett continued.

“Nope.”

“So you’ve been dating in secret for two years without him knowing.” Don went on.

“Yep.

“But....you see this as revenge on me?” Anthony asked with a tilted head.

“Yep.” You laughed. “In your face.”

“In my face?” Anthony raised his eyebrows. “How so?”

“Because we totally got you.” You bragged. “Look at your face right now. You had no idea we were actually together.”

“What an idiot.” Tom shook his head. “This guy, am I right?”

The cast exchanged another look as you and Tom continued not to understand why dating in private didn’t exactly count as revenge against Anthony.

“Okay.” Anthony said skeptically. “So let me ask you this. Now that I know about the joke, will you stop dating?”

You and Tom quieted down as Anthony brought up something you hadn’t thought of.

“Well, no.” Tom began as he looked at you. “We like dating each other.”

“So essentially, this had nothing to do with me.” Anthony concluded. “You two just wanted to date each other but used me as an excuse.”

You and Tom opened your mouths to defend yourselves, but shut them when you realized he was right. You looked at each other sheepishly before shrinking down in your seats from embarrassment.

Anthony Mackie may have gotten the better of you.

Tag List 🏷

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[butterfliesluke]

Ex trouble:

Request: Y/n and Luke are married. Luke's ex Sierra keeps bothering them tho even tho Y/n is pregnant. It goes as far as that they have to call the police.

Requested by: emmyb.allen1 (this is for a request no hate towards Sierra)

A/N: Sure thing! Enjoy!

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Y/n's POV:

The light breeze of summer air was hitting my face. My body sprawled out on the bed.

My back against Luke's warm chest as my eyes fluttered open. A smile on my lips as I felt warmth curled up against my belly.

Little paws pushed against it. Petunia has been always attached to me since the day I moved in with my at the time boyfriend.

Now Husband. But since I got pregnant she was practically guard dog.

I scratched her head smiling before turning around slightly. Luke's eyes shut closed.

His eyelashes laying against his cheeks. His hair messy against the pillows.

My finger went up to poke his cheek with a cheeky smile.

A groan leaving his lips as he opened his ocean blue eyes with a glare.

,,Just cause you are carrying my child doesn't mean you can be cheeky darling." He mumbled making me giggle.

A sudden ping interrupting my planned sassy remark.

His phone lighting up on his nightstand. I huffed annoyed.

Since Luke's ex found out about my pregnancy she apparently noticed how much she still loves him.

Don't understand me wrong. I always had respect for Sierra. But this is going to far.

,,If it's her again I will actually give birth and then jump out if the window." I laughed making Lu chuckle.

,,Don't stress about it love. It's bad for our little bean." He whispered against my lips before pressing a kiss against them.

He sat up grabbing his phone. Before slandering into the bathroom.

I sighed before turning to piggy who was now sitting up next to me.

,,Goodmorning pup!" I whispered smiling.

After we got ready for the day Luke and I decided to go out for lunch with the boys.

We all sat in the back of the little diner.

,,I'll have..the chicken Alfredo with garlic bread..but could I get the garlic bread on a different plate? I don't like my food touching." Michael murmured.

The waited giving him a side eye meaning he will definitely spit in our food after that.

Crystal shaking her head with a smile.

,,Ofcourse..I'll be back with your drinks." She sighed and turned around.

,,Why is she making such a fuss? It's literally her job!" I laughed as Luke wrapped his hand around my shoulder.

,,I don't know! Don't worry Mike." Ashton smiled patting his frowning friends back.

Whose eyes then went wide while looking behind me matching everyone's who was sitting opposite us.

,,Yall look like you saw a ghost!" Luke exclaimed turning around to.

A small curse leaving his lips making me and Calum turn around too.

,,Oh fuck no.." I spat as I watched the one person I least wanted to see walk in the diner.

Sierra. Today is not my day.

,,What the fuck is she doing here?" Kay asked confused as she walked up to our table with an annoying grin.

Luke grabbing my thighs and whispering calm words in my ear.

That didn't help my boiling self tho.

,,What a pleasant surprise! 5sos and their girls! And the one night stand that got pregnant." She teased with an smug pout.

A gasp leaving Crystal's lips.

,,Oh fuck no girl. You are not ruining our day." Luke laughed standing up.

,,Oh Luke..don't get so worked up! We both know she's just a phase." She scoffed.

What the hell. Everyone is looking at us.

,,Sierra I am literally married to him you you blind chicken." I giggled shaking my head.

,,Deaton. Leave before I fucking call the police." Calum threatened also standing up.

Suddenly a glas off tap water being placed infront of me making me realize the waiter is back.

Sierra eyeing the orange juice infront of Luke and the sprite infront of Kay.

Her grabbing them both and with a swing I felt it splash against my shirt and pants and a slap against my cheek.

A yell leaving my body as I looked at her with stunned eyes.

,,Babe! Omg was it something hot? Did it hit your stomach!? Someone call the police right now! " Luke ranted before cupping my face.

His eyes filled with worry and pain.

,,I'm alright lu. It's okay.." I reassured standing up.

,, You guys take a taxi home. We'll handle this from here." Michael spat looking at Sierra.

I nodded standing up with Luke guiding me outside.

I guess this is what it's like being married to a celebrity.

Ex trouble part 2:

Request: Can I Have a Part two where Sierra feels so Guilty

Requested by: emmyb.allen1

A/N:Ofcourse! I tried my best! Hope yall like it was very requested by all of you♥️

THIS IS JUST AN IMAGINE. THE MENTIONED TOPIC DOES NOT APPLY TO SIERRA IN REAL LIFE. WE LOVE HER (no really. I am practically obsessed with her.)

Luke's POV:

It's been a week since the drama all happened.

And I'm still worked up about it. What is the liquid would have been hot? It would have burned her skin.

No matter how much I used to love Sierra. This has gone too far.

The constant stalking, messages, drama.

I'm married for God sakes. The moment she got physical the line got overstepped.

,,What are you still fuming about?" A sweet voice asked making me turn around.

Y/n waddled into the kitchen. Her belly looked like it could explode any second.

Her signature dimply smile flashing across her face.

,,The Sierra thing..." I murmured as she sat down next to me.

Her head falling on my shoulder as her perfume went up my nostrils.

My heart beating faster by the second.

,,Oh Lu. Stop stressing. It turned out fine. She won't bother is anymore." She whispered as I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Management has finally decided to do something about this mess allowing me to be able to never let Sierra near us again.

,,I know...but-"

My sentence got interrupted by the door bell.

Y/n furrowing her eyebrows. ,,Are the boys coming over?" She asked making me shake my head.

,,Mhm maybe it's Crys." She shrugged pressing a kiss to my cheek and standing up.

Running to the door as best she could. A grin on my face. I'm so madly in love.

My day dreaming cut off once I heard a loud ,,LUKE!!" from the hallway.

The Luke that mostly comes when either she is upset with me or she needs me instantly.

My mind running a mile per hour. Did I order something stupid again?

Oh God what did I do?

Jumping up I quickly ran to the door.

My eyes widening as I saw who stood infront of the door.

,,Yeah no. What are you doing here?" I asked crossing my arms, standing next to the shocked Y/n.

Sierras guilty face dropping some more.

I know that face. She really felt bad for something.

,,Luke.. Y/n..I don't know what got into me to be honest. I was hoping I could apologize and maybe explain myself." She muttered.

Her gaze fixed to the ground.

,,There's nothing to ex-" ,,Hush! Sierra this is the last chance. If you try to pull a thing like that again I don't wanna see you again." Y/n, miss sometimes too kind hearted, said.

Sierra had a small smile on her lips before nodding. Us stepping aside and walking into the living room.

,,She better have a good reason." I grumbled making Y/n push me slightly.

,,Negative Nelly.." she spat shaking her allowing me to roll my eyes.

We sat down on the couch. Si taking a huge breath before starting to speak.

,,Firstly..I wanted to say how truly sorry I am. I should not have lashed out on you especially since you are carrying a Child." She said.

Her eyes screaming -I really mean it this time-

A small nod coming from Y/n.

,,And Luke. I really do care about you. I'm sorry for hanging on you even tho you are married." She explained.

My dark eyes turning a shade lighter as I nodded too.

,,The thing is..when I found out your pregnant...my heart shattered." She admitted.

Unexpectedly her eyes filling with fresh tears.

Y/n's face dropping as if she knew something.

,,I-I can't have kids. I found out two months ago." She cried out.

Y/n's eyes filling with tears aswell as I gasped. Even tho she practically turned my life upside down..I was still in love with her a while ago.

,,Oh my..Sierra I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed as Y/n put her hand on hers.

,,I got so jealous and I'm sorry!" She sobbed making our heart shatter.

,,oh shh it's okay..I can't imagine how you feel." Y/n cooed rubbing her shoulder.

My arm coming around Y/n's shoulder as I placed my hand on Sierra's thigh.

Y/n was my everything. My whole world. And her allowing me to have a child is the best gift in the world.

But I can tell the excitement on her face when we talk about welcoming our baby into the world.

She will be an amazing mother and her love for our child is already so huge.

So passionate.

I can't imagine how it is for a woman to find out that she will never be able to have children.

Pulling her into a hug we all stayed close to her.

And in the end...our little girl and Sierra got along so well.

[kyleys-empty-mind-shit]

confessions

hol’ up . . . this is our vv first fic together. bye-

inspo: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you?”

genre(s): angst; fluff

fandom: the hunger games

rating: g・t・r

rated t for swearing

word count: 2.6k

warning(s): two oblivious dumbasses in love; probably unedited 

things to know: y/n (your name) ⟢ e/c (your eye colour) ⟢ y/l/n (your last name)

Peeta Mellark.

He was your constant; your rock. You could rely on him for anything and everything.

He was the steadiest thing you’d had in your life for a long time now, but as he took your wrist and led you upstairs away from the party, you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble up in your chest.

“Peeta, what—”

“Why?” he nearly shouts. Peeta is mild mannered. He’s many things, actually; polite, charming, and personable, but angry was not one of them. It didn’t scare you like you’d always expected it to, but rather frustrated you.

“Why what, Peeta?” you hiss back.

He looks at you as if you had just grown two heads, his brows knit together in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” he breathes. You shake your head, not understanding what he is trying to get at. You defensively cross your arms, knowing the juvenile element would annoy him, but having nothing to do with your hands increases your already anxious state.

“That guy,”

“That guy?”

“Yes, y/n, yes. That guy that was just a little too friendly with you? So close to you that he was practically crawling under your goddamn skin? What were you thinking?”

You laugh at him, unable to contain it. “I can handle myself perfectly fine. Why are you being such an ass?” you all but shout at him. “It’s none of your business anyway?”

“Hm, let’s see y/n, he could’ve, god, I don’t know, taken advantage of you?”

You scoff, unable to handle his cliché statement.

He brings his hands up and pushes his hair back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhales heavily through his nose. You squint at him, unable to read the emotions on his face.

“What is up with you?” you whisper, not quite sure if he was able to hear. Your eyes narrow, unsure of what his next words might be.

“For someone so smart, you can be so goddamn oblivious sometimes, y/l/s.”

“Oh my god, what is with all the stupid riddles tonight? I can’t read your mind! You can’t expect me to just know things,” you exasperate, throwing your hands out in front of you. “For someone who’s supposed to be good at communication, you’re doing a pretty shitty job of displaying it,” you spit, throwing his words right back at him.

“Fine,” he hisses, starting to move towards you.

You cock your eyebrow at him, your bodies coming closer, nearly closing the gap.

“Fine?” you question.

“Yeah.” he huffs out, repeating the word with an heir of finality, “yeah.” His breath warms your face, the scent of vodka invading your senses.

Your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of his proximity. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. He can’t meet your eyes, his heart hammering against his chest so loud that it feels as though you can hear it. His head drops along with his gaze, studying the floor before chancing a glance at you. Peeta lets go of a breathy laugh as words tumble out of his mouth.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he breathes, his words choked, hardly audible, him now looking you right in the eyes. Your stomach does a flip once, unsure of his next words. Blue eyes stare at your e/c ones that are clouded in confusion. You can feel his frustration start to build as he takes a step back from you, his voice rising and hands coming from his sides.

“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out.

Oh my god.

You stare at him in shock, his proclamation stunning you. You blink once, twice, as his words echoing through your head.

His hazel eyes bore into your e/c ones, willing you to say something, anything, to let him know you heard him. But yet you stand there, unable to find the words.

Nothing is coming out.

Say something, you beg yourself, wanting to scream out an answer, yet your mouth continues to remain shut. You swallow hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper. How could you be so oblivious to his feelings? You and him have known each other since childhood, yet there you are, standing only inches away from him, the truth finally known.

The look in his eyes is absolutely heart-wrenching; if you hadn’t just heard him, you’d have thought he had lost his best friend. In a way, you guess, he had.

Peeta just shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders in such a way that makes you want to reach out and take his hand. His dark waves fall over his eyes and he turns around, facing the door.

“I—” you begin, but you know it’s too late.

“Just, um, forget it, y/n,” his voice soft, small, “I’ll see you in environmental studies.”

He opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. You want to scream, to tell him to come back.  

“Dammit!” you exclaim, throwing your red solo cup as hard as you can at the wall. The contents spill all over, some of the liquid splashing on you but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You reach to pull at your loosely braided hair, a habit of yours that came out whenever you were experiencing an excess of negative emotions, before you realize where you are. You harshly rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you remind yourself to breathe.

In, out . . . In, out.

“Get it together,” you tell yourself, taking one last deep breath. “Okay.”

You turn to head back downstairs to the party, nothing on your mind except finding Peeta and setting everything straight, hoping at this point that that was even a possibility anymore.

God, you hated this part. You hated having to make up. Saying sorry was never your strong suit, your pride always getting in the way. But this? This was not a matter of pride. This was about finally coming to terms with the truth that you so desperately tried to avoid for years.

You almost trip as you descend the stairs, looking everywhere for Peeta but unable to find him anywhere in the crowd.

Spotting a head of wavy bronze hair by the water cooler, you rush over to your english lit classmate, who is also a friend of Peeta’s; Finnick Odair.

“Hey Finnick,” you say once you reach him, trying to keep your voice even. He greets you with his signature smirk before bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip.

“Ah, y/n, having a good time I trust?”

“Trying to,” you grumble. Finnick gives you a quizzical look before you proceed; “Have you seen Peeta?” You can’t help but notice the slight crack in your voice when you say his name.

“Yeah,” he confirms, “I saw him leave a few minutes ago. Seemed pretty upset.”

“Yeah, wonder why,” you mutter bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t hear your words above the music.

You bite your lip, weighing the option of asking Finnick to help you find Peeta. Half of you wanted to go and find him yourself, your need to get the weight off your chest as quickly as possible, the other half of you wanting to stall for as long as you could.

“Could you text him? Ask him where he is?”

“Why can’t you?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. “Because, I—”

“Wait,” Finnick’s smile widens. “Wait, are you the reason he’s upset?”

Your silence is enough for him. His dopey smile falters for a moment, an emotion that you could only define as realization sweeping over his face. He shakes his head softly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and opening his texts. His thumbs glide swiftly across the screen as he compiles a message to send to Peeta.

You can’t have been standing there for more than a minute when his phone dings. Finnick flashes you the screen.

From: Pita Bread

I’m fine... at the pond.

“Thank you, Finnick, really,” you breathe.

He just nods, taking another sip of his drink.

You rush out of the frat house the party was being held in, running across the street to Panem University’s main campus, willing your legs to go faster.

The pond was at the northern end of campus, smack in the middle of Tribute Hall and the Coriolanus Snow Study Center. You see a silhouette sitting on one of the few stone benches surrounding the body of tranquil water, tossing handfuls of what you can only assume is trail mix at the ducks that liked to take up at the pond.

You slow down, bringing your footfalls to a trot, then silently padding your way over the grass towards him. Your chest is heaving from the exertion as you try to make your breaths even.

“Peeta,” You call out, your voice void of any venom as you stalk towards the boy. You’re almost inclined to slap him because of how he acted. No rational person could expect someone to give them an answer to a question as heavily weighed as that right away.

He stands up once you reach him, refusing to look you in the eyes. For a fleeting moment, you catch the grief-stricken look in his usually bright eyes and it’s enough to keep you from raising your hand at him.

“Why did you leave like that?” you breathe out. He shrugs a shoulder with almost casual indifference. “Peeta.” you nearly plead, looking at him as your eyebrows knit together.

“What did you expect me to do?” he says feebly.

You look up at the night sky, inhaling deeply as you hurriedly send off a prayer to whatever higher power that you can say everything you want to say to him, in the way you want to say it.

In a way that says something to him. Means something.

The stars seem to twinkle brighter, almost like they received your message. God, this is so hard.

Peeta is still looking anywhere but at you, his focus now on the ducks idling in the water.

“You could have waited for me,” you say. “I mean, come on! That was… big. A big thing to drop on me,” you add, “so of course I was shocked. But if you had just waited for me . . .”

“What?” he snorts, finally looking you in the eyes. “What would you have said that couldn’t have possibly made me feel like more of a fool than I already was? What—”

“I love you,” you blurt.

Here it goes.

“And not in a ‘you’ve always been there for me, so I’m kind of indebted to you’ kind of way but in a way that’s like, ‘I want to do cheesy stuff with you because I know it will make you smile.’ That’s like, I would do anything, anything to prove to you that I’m worthy of your love. Peeta, you’ve seen everything I was and everything I am, and it just— I just couldn’t believe when you said that . . . But I— I trust you with everything in me and it frightens me, because you know I’ve been hurt before, but I can’t deny that everything feels right when I’m with you. I just. I want another chance. If, if you’ll let me.” You breath the words out, hardly anything but air coming out.  

“Y/n, breathe.”

“Right,” you exhale, your mind swirling around, making vertigo seem like a walk in the park.

“You’re not . . . unworthy of love,” Peeta begins but he stops, trying to figure out his words. “What Cato did to you, it doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love. He’s.. an asshole, who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I— I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that, but seeing you with that guy, he just reminded me so much of Cato, and it made me so mad because I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I.. couldn’t help but think it was my final chance to tell you how I felt.”

“Final chance?”

“Y/n, I’ve loved you since like year six.”

“Peeta, you absolute dumbass!” you exclaim, quickly going to cover your mouth as your own words shock even yourself. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . wow,” a laugh nearly escapes your lips. “We’re both oblivious fools, huh?”

Peeta’s brows furrow in confusion, as you let out a soft chuckle. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his soft curls falling into his blue eyes. This moment is one you’ll always remember, you think to yourself, already trying to commit it to memory. The way the trees slightly sway from the late summer breeze, the moonlight reflecting off the water; best of all, the glint in Peeta’s eye when your gazes meet. It’s so cheesy, really, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve played it over and over in your head for years, different scenarios always being formulated, but nothing you could have ever dreamt of could compare to this moment.

“I’ve loved you since year seven,” you tell him, every word of it true. “I can’t believe it took us both this long. Could have avoided the whole Cato fiasco of year twelve, I suppose, if we had just . . . had the gall to tell each other back then, I guess,” you say, the last sentence mumbled.

“Yeah.” Peeta laughs, a genuine deep laugh that reaches his eyes. It rouses the butterflies that have been in the pit of your stomach, the fluttering making you nervous as you watch him scratch the base of his neck almost embarrassedly.

“So,” you say, dragging the ‘o’ sound. “Pretty sure this is the part where most people would kiss.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“No, not you, Peeta. I was talking to the duck behind you,” You frown, unable to contain the scoff that passes your lips. “Yes.. yes, I want to kiss you,” you breathe, your pulse hammering.

You step forward, your hands reaching up, gliding against his cheeks, his hands resting on your waist. In a moment of bravery, you place your lips against his. They’re soft, and he tastes like cedar and bread, and it’s like coming home, being in his arms as his lips move against yours, the breeze chilling your skin but his warming you.

There are no words spoken between the two of you as you both pull away. His eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks; the corners of his mouth are pulled up slightly.

God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful. That word is usually reserved for sceneries, sunsets or pretty dresses, but in this moment, you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“Finally!” someone shouts, causing the both of you to jump back from each other, acting like two first years getting caught passing notes in class. You look around before your eyes land on Johanna Mason, leaning against the statue of the university founder Alma Coin that’s off to the left of the entrance of the study center. Finnick is with her, his signature smirk gracing his elegant features once more. “We were wondering when you two would have the balls to tell each other how you felt.”

“It seems everyone knew but you two,” Finnick adds with a deep chuckle.

“Alright, Finny, I think we should leave the two lovebirds alone.” Johanna says, turning away. “Be safe, you two!”

“If you need anything,” Finnick winks at Peeta. “You know where to reach me.”  

You laugh softly, leaning your head against Peeta’s chest. His arms wrap around you, encasing you in him. His cheeks rests on the top of your head, his breaths evening out as you listen to his steady heart beat.

This is it. This is home.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Okay, lover boy”

For @bfharry boyfriendathon!!! A trip to Paris with your loving boyfriend Harry!

this gif bc sweetie! but also bc this is the coat he’s wearing :)

We’ve got fluff, (a little) angst, and smut for y’all and music always. I love Paris, was actually there this time last year so I was feeling nostalgic! Also Harry in Europe is always A+++ Hope y’all enjoy and feedback is ALWAYS appreciateddd

Word Count: 5.2k | Warnings: some self-doubt, oral!male receiving, mentions of sex, language? 

-

Summer in Paris. The most romantic place in the world with the loveliest weather. Except, the weather wasn’t exactly lovely. But it was quite romantic and that’s what you decided to focus on. Harry and you had flown off to get away from the world by living in the South of France for the Summer. First, you had begged Harry to spend a good three days in Paris before heading to the countryside. He had obviously agreed. Today was your second day.

“Love, wake up,” Harry cooed softly in your ear.

You stirred in the plush bed and slowly sat up in the mess of sheets. You rubbed at your eyes and when you blinked them open you saw Harry standing before you. He was already dressed in striped trousers and a striped shirt under a sweater vest and seemed to have run out to bring you coffee in bed. He crossed to perch on the bed and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. Your body leaned in to receive the sweet peck of his soft lips.

“Good morning, love, y’look ravishing” he sighed sweetly as he pulled back from your face. You rolled your eyes and scratched at your disheveled hair.

Moving your head in a circle around your neck, you laughed breathily at all of his sweet words, “I look a mess, but thanks, H.”

“You don’t,” he protested, sliding his hands around your shoulders and moving to lay on top of you on the bed.

You giggled and wriggled in the sheets as he began to pepper kisses along your face, neck and collarbones. “You’re absolutely stunning. Like always.”

The pair of you rolled around in the bed, exchanging kisses and caressing each other tenderly. Then you heard the rain and sat up.

“Har...is it still raining?”

He sighed and sat up with you, pushing his mused curls out of his face with one hand while his other was wrapped around your waist. “Sadly, yes. But we can still go out and explore. I know how excited you were to finally be back in Paris...”

Your head turned to rest in the crook of his neck, sighing softly, “It’s alright. I love the rain, can’t get me down.”

“Yeah, we can just take umbrellas and have fun with it.”

“No, no umbrellas. Want to run from awning to awning. Get stuck in the rain and be drenched. With you.”

Your lips had curved up into a smile as you spoke. Resting your head on Harry’s warm body, you imagined the day that the two of you were about to set off on. It wouldn’t be perfect and that would be okay. It was going to be what the two of you make of it therefore you wanted to make it magical. You sat up to meet Harry’s eyes as he cradled you in his arms. His face held a soft expression, one filled with love as he looked down at the woman he had grown to love more than anything. It wasn’t fleeting, it was constant. He loved you.

“Alright, let’s get goin’ then,” he laughed and shifted along the bed, sitting you up more. The hint of teasing in his voice was exciting and made you want to listen to him.

You pushed out of his arms and bounced up, your shirt sliding to cover the top bits of your thighs. “Alright!”

-

“Okay, maybe one umbrella would have been a good idea!” Laughing in disbelief, you duck beneath the awning of the cafe across the street from your hotel.

“It’s really coming down...but you said,” Harry grins down at you and swipes at a strand of your hair that was already drenched from the rain. You swat at his chest, his yellow knit sweater vest dry as he removes his large blue coat. “Hush.”

The cafe plays a love song in French and you hum along softly as you seat yourselves. Harry’s hand instinctively envelopes yours as your other free hands begin to leaf through the menu. His hand is warm and soft as it entangles itself with your own, which squeezes his in response to the brushing of his thumb over your skin. After placing your order, you watch the rain hitting the pavement and the light city traffic before you. Harry only has eyes for you, his gaze never leaving your figure. He takes you in, the way you’ve done your hair, the necklace you picked out - the one you always wear, the way you decided to wear no makeup since you planned on getting wet in the rain.

Bringing him out of his adoration, the waitress brings your drinks and he watches you say something sweet in french before he also says a ‘merci’. You sigh in contentment and shift in your seat after taking a sip of your espresso. Your eyes meet with Harry’s over the top of your small cup and you giggle at how extremely small the same cup looks in his hand. His dimples appear as he mirrors your expression. Then at the opening chords of the new song beginning to play, you perk up, immediately recognizing “Aline”, a clichely French song, but a favorite of yours nonetheless. You place your cup down and begin to sing along. Harry watches on, sipping his espresso and allowing you to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to the rhythm. You tip your head back and mock scream out the words, your french accent changing how your voice normally sounds.

“Is that a love song?” Harry asks at the finish of the song. He never bothered to learn French, despite having a couple of girlfriends who had been able to speak it.

You wet your lips, dried from singing, and shake your head slightly. “No, not really. It’s about heartbreak... Aline - the girl - is gone, I guess, and he’s drawn an image of her in the sand. But rain washes that away as well and now he’s twice as sad”

“That could still be considered a love song. He still loves her, right?”

“I guess.”

“Why do you like it so much?”

You hum, pondering the question, never thinking about what made her like the song so much to consider it a favorite. Harry stares intently, he loved talking to you about music. It was two of his favorite things put together.

“You won’t take ‘I just like shouting Aline’ will you?” Harry shakes his head, and you continue, “I guess I like it because it’s so tragic...and a little pathetic. Like, that sounds harsh, but this guy, he’s so in love with someone who’s already gone that he cries over her image washing away. He says he’s aching he’s so distraught and it’s just, it’s so relatable.” Harry stares at you, eyes soft, knowing you have more to say. Sitting so that your back is straight, you work to put your thoughts into words. “He’s calling out her name ‘Aline’ in hopes she will return to him and it’s just like you never want to feel that way in your entire life. But there are times that you do and you’re the pathetic guy crying over sand and watching it wash away into the ocean.”

“I will never make you feel like that, love,” Harry shifts your hands and brings them onto the table, leaning closer, a somewhat pleading look in his eyes.

“You never would on purpose, I know that. But that feeling it’s human insecurity, that’s the little fears I keep tucked away in the back of my mind, it’s how I’d feel if I ever lost you.”

“You’re never going to lose me,” he leans fully forward to bring his lips to yours. His lips easily brushed over yours, connecting perfectly as they always did. Your hand rescinds from his grasp and you place it on his chest, pushing him back slightly, “I know. Now enough with the mushy. Sights to be seen, clothes to be soaked!”

Laughing together, Harry settles the bill as you gather your things. You help Harry put his heavy coat back on after he finishes with the money, your lips pecking his as you fix the lapel. His lips curve into a smile against yours and his eyelashes flutter in excitement, never getting tired of the feeling of you.

-

You had finally arrived at the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower, where you had been meandering through the city to all day. Before you had arrived Harry and you had stopped in a chocolatier, a perfumerie, and another cafe - pair of you appreciated good coffee. Harry had begged to stop at a boulangerie to pick up bread, but you had insisted that you could stop at one on the way back to the hotel later, otherwise the bread would get all soggy. Eventually, Harry had agreed even though his argument was that he would eat it before it got soggy.

Running around with a canvas tote on your shoulder filled with the goodies you two had picked up was exciting and you spun around on the grass, your head tilted to the rain and your arms and bag flying out around you. Harry grabbed your waist and then slipped a hand up to cradle your wet hair. His hand carded through the tendrils and you tilted your face to look at him. His own wet chestnut hair flopped onto his forehead as he smiled down at you. You threw your arms up to hang on his shoulders. It was only you two out in the rain and you laughed as you watched a single droplet run the length of Harry’s nose. Craning your neck, you kissed the tip of his nose before it could fall.

“I love you,” Harry says only for you, completely unprompted.

“I love you, Harry,” you respond, lovingly.

“No, Y/N, I love you,” He repeats. Your wrists drop as your arms retract and your hands rest on his strong shoulders. You lean back slightly, confused. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” He starts to shout and picks you up by the waist, spinning you around in circles, slightly off the ground now.

“Harry!” You squeal, incredulous at his behavior. You loved it, but he wasn’t usually like this in public. Hand holding and short hugs, usually. Small pecks, at most. Shouting declarations of love, never - until now.

“Ok! I get it, lover boy,” You roll your eyes as he sets you down, placing kisses all over your rain soaked face. You tuck your head into your chest, feeling heat rise to your cheeks from his words and actions despite the cooling effect of the rain.

He smiles and leads the pair of you towards the Eiffel Tower. Halfway there he stops and snaps a few photos of you grinning, drenched in front of the site. Then you make him pose as well. He smiles for a few and then pretends to lean against it, which makes you roll your eyes again while you move to the perfect spot to make it look realistic.

You begin to move to head towards the tower again, but his hand snakes around your wrist, stopping you from moving. The rain was at a soft patter now, but you still were getting tired of being in it. Your brows raised expectantly at your boyfriend who was smiling adorably at you.

“Selfie.” He said simply.

“Harry...”

“C’mon. It’s romantic. Not like there’s anyone around to take it for us.”

You shrug and fold into his chest as he slips out his phone. His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you even closer. Your head rests on the upper part of his chest as one of your hands slips underneath his coat and the other goes to rest on his sternum. Your entire body is pressed against him, as he adjusts his phone trying to get both your faces in it along with a good portion of the Eiffel Tower. You both smile at your reflections that are beginning to smudge with raindrops and you ruffle your hair trying to look slightly disheveled after a few snaps. Then, Harry groans sadly, “These aren’t working.”

“I actually have an idea,” you say excitedly as the rain slows to a complete stop, “You okay with your phone possibly getting some water damage?” Harry nods, unsure, as you pluck the phone from his hands. You stroll a few feet away from Harry and pluck two of the boxes of chocolate out of your bag. Mumbling to yourself, you set up the boxes like a makeshift stand, “Please don’t get ruined, mes bonbons.” Then you swipe to the video choice in the phone’s camera and turn it on. You place it gently against the two boxes, so that the image contains Harry and the Eiffel Tower behind him. Then you race back to Harry, your sneakers splashing the puddles as you move.

“You’re brilliant!” He wraps his arms around your shoulders and sways you back and forth. “Smile at the camera, lover,” you pull from his strong grasp and wrap a single arm beneath his coat again, fingers pulling at the warm fabric of the sweater vest beneath it. He smiles down at you before turning his focus to the phone a little ways off. He tightens his arm around your shoulder and pulls you off your feet slightly, causing one of your legs to kick out slightly. This video is going to be so weird, you think to yourself and laugh as you straighten back up. You turn your face to Harry and scrunch it up at him. He smirks back at you and then leans down to kiss your cheek.

After you mess around a bit in front of the camera, forgetting for a minute that you're recording and having a small makeout session, you run back to your set up and gather your things. Harry comes with you this time and hugs your waist from behind you. He smiles at the camera one last time before you press the red button to end the video; the last clip being his face smiling brightly while you’re laughing breathlessly at him, both sets of eyes filled with love and joy.

-

There’s a restaurant inside the Eiffel Tower. It’s really beautiful and classy, perfectly French. Harry decides it’s the perfect place to have dinner, despite its upscale interior and your complete dishevelment from the rain and lack of preparedness in your outfit choices. As well as, the fact that it’s really early and the French don’t eat until much later in the evening so you’re the only ones there. Harry knocks on the door still and the pair of you are seated after he tells them who he is.

You comb lightly through your wet hair and you shuffle your vans together, uncomfortably. Harry, while dressed down still manages to look effortlessly chic, his trousers and yellow sweater vest with a striped dress shirt underneath is still passable as nice, especially if you ignore his own vans. In your haste you had dressed cute, but not necessarily upscale enough to where you felt like you fit in in that moment. Your wet hair wasn’t helping to calm your nerves as the well dressed waiters moved around you, placing things at your table. Your nervous hands smoothed over the plaid skirt and frumpy brown sweater you had beneath your navy trench coat that almost mirrored Harry’s only missing the colorful bobbles.

“Hey,” Harry notices your fidgeting and reaches out across the table, motioning you to place your hand in his outstretched one. You oblige reluctantly, shifting in your seat. Money has never been a problem for Harry since the pair of you began to date which wasn’t a bad thing. You had a job that allowed you to live a comfortable lifestyle, as well, just not quite to the extreme that Harry was able to. Normally, it didn’t bother you, but right now you felt very out of place, feeling unwelcome in Harry’s life. Harry can read exactly what you’re thinking as all these negative thoughts race through your mind. The odd sense of fear that the pair of you had talked about creeping in, the thought of losing him because you couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle. Like you had told him earlier, as well, you hope to never feel that way, but sometimes it’s there. And right now was one of those sometimes.

His finger traces the familiar pattern over the back of your hand as he holds it tight. “You deserve to be here just as much as the next person. You look lovely.” He smiles at you, trying to convey just how sincere he is being. You release a breath and try to relax at his words, knowing ultimately that he was right. He always knew exactly what to say and you smiled at him and whispered a small ‘thank you.’

-

“If I Fell” begins to play in the restaurant and John and Paul begin to serenade the empty room. The host had placed you in the furthest back room by the windows, allowing you and Harry to stare out at the city as you enjoyed the food and leaving you completely alone except for when the waiter would come and check in. The two of you had just finished the third course and were watching the clouds shift along the skyline.

Harry sighed contentedly and leaned back against his chair, straining his neck to the side, the tendon on his neck straining, causing your eyes to flicker up and watch the way he clenched and unclenched his strong jaw. You were in awe. “How did I get so lucky?” You say suddenly, your voice wistful, eyes a moment away from misty. Harry hums, jade eyes flitting back to your face, lips curving into a curious smile. “To be loved by someone like you, by you. How’d I get so lucky?”

Harry blushes at your words, the smile growing larger, overtaking his features. “Love, if I could list all the reasons I love you...God, we’d never leave this restaurant. Let’s just say I’m the one who’s lucky.” You pouted at his words, feeling cliche but also, totally and completely in love, so much so that you didn’t care about what you looked like as you stood up and leaned over the table, crashing your lips to Harry’s. He leaned up quickly to meet your lips over the small table. One of his hands flew to your soft cheek and held you close as your lips locked, tasting sweet from the champagne the two of you had been enjoying.

-

“Today was perfect, H.”

You glanced up to look at Harry’s face as he held you in his arms, walking slowly down the street. He walked slightly behind you as he braced himself around you, he couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t touch enough, feel enough, breathe enough, where he would feel satisfied.

His eyes flitted down to meet yours, the jade of them sparkling under the cloudy sky save for the moon that had pushed its light through finally. “Yeah it was.”

Reaching the hotel, the two of you scampered up to your room and threw everything down the minute you got inside. The rain had mostly dried from your clothes, but you still couldn’t wait to take them off and get into something clean and warm.

“Do you want to shower?” Harry calls to you as he unpacks your bag, separating all of the items the pair of you had bought today - including the baguette he had finally gotten on your way home. Your head appeared from beneath your sweater as you pulled it from your body, leaving you standing in your bra and skirt.

“Together?” Your voice was calm since Harry and you occasionally showered together and were capable of keeping it tame, but there was a hint of excitement too after spending the whole day constantly within each other’s grasp.

“Sure, why not? Then we can get in bed and try the chocolates we bought today sooner,” he shrugs, making his way towards you, tossing a box of chocolates on the bed for later. He licks his lips and smirks down at you. “I like the way you think...but no funny business, lover boy,” you tease and run a finger down the center of his chest, only his dress shirt covering the toned body beneath. Your eyes have a glint of mischief in them as your words come out rather jokingly. “No promises,” he breathes before placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

In the bathroom now, Harry closes the door despite the lack of need for privacy. For some reason your heart is beating extremely fast, nerves springing forward at the urgent prospect of intimacy. Your heart always beats a little faster whenever Harry and you are together like this, but right now it’s going especially fast. The love you have for him, the passion, it’s never faded. Everytime is like the first time, maybe even better than the first time if you really think about it because now he knows you and you know him. It’s not about the novelty or the exploration, it’s about the adoration and the feeling each other’s touch ignites within you. So, right now, as the pair of you undress each other before you shower together, your heart is beating so fast because this isn’t lust or fleeting passion it’s eternal intimacy and deep devotion.

His fingers softly and nimbly release the clasp of your bra and then reach around to slip the straps down. It slides down your arms and falls to the ground and Harry watches you as you now move to undo the last few buttons of his shirt. You’re pressing close to him, feeling cold and slightly vulnerable despite being safe in Harry’s presence. The movements are tender, only the sound of your breathing and the rain that started up again bringing any noise to your interaction. Your hands flit down to the buttons on his trousers, your fingers shaking only slightly from the chill. Harry’s toned arms rise up to rub your upper arms, noticing your shivering as you undo the buttons and zipper. After his zipper is undone, you move your hands down to your side, where your own zipper is located, but Harry pushes your hands away, silently telling you he could do it. Sighing, you turn from him and turn the shower on, hoping that it will warm up quickly. Harry follows and presses up against you, his large arms encircling your frame, warming you instantly. He kisses the tip of your left shoulder tenderly and then rests his chin in the dip between your shoulder and neck. He breathes you in, taking in the moment, committing it to memory. Your hands rest over his gently and you feel yourself tilting your head back and basking in his embrace.

“We should probably get in,” Harry whispers after you had been standing there for far too long, simply holding each other. “Yeah,” you respond wistfully. Stepping in, you instantly place a kiss on Harry’s neck once he’s in. He looks at you questioningly, “I thought you said-” “I couldn’t help myself, you look like an angel.” He tucks his head at your words and then looks at you with love filled eyes, “Giving me a toothache with how sweet you are to me.”

He takes the bottle of shampoo the pair of you had brought and begins to massage it into your wet hair. You close your eyes in contentment at his actions, you loved how gentle Harry was and how he always insisted on washing your hair when you showered together. As he works on the hair you take the bar of soap and begin to rub it across his prominent pectorals, the suds show up and glisten across his tan skin. You smile to yourself as you pass over the two swallows and then travel down the center of his chest and bring the soap over the butterfly. Harry lets out a breathy laugh and you mutter, “Always so ticklish…” But you don’t mind. You rub some of the soap on your hands and then rub back over the same places on his body, spreading out the suds, while Harry moves to wash his own hair. This time your hands travel further down his body, your soapy fingers massaging Harry’s bare hips, rubbing soothing circles over the tense muscles from walking all day. Harry releases a heavy sigh, your movements releasing a pressure he hadn’t realized was there.

Your hands travel inwards and dance over his two fern tattoos causing Harry to shudder again. This time you say nothing, focussed on tracing the patterns and being so close to your lover. Finally, you remove your hands from his body and rinse them of the soap, grabbing a washcloth, you finish cleaning his arms, neck, and torso. Moving slowly, you drop the washcloth and Harry’s breath hitches, knowing what you’re intending to do. Harry starts, “You don’t-” but now his voice is completely caught in his throat when you put your hands on his length.

He’s already semi-hard, and it stiffens immediately in your embrace. He has to actively think about not getting hard whenever you’re naked around him, especially when you bathe together. He thinks you’re sexy, of course, but the intimate touches you share under the water is what really does it for him. However, he knows it’s not a sexual moment usually and doesn’t want to press himself upon you. Today, though, you want to take care of him. “Hush, I want to,” you say as you pump your hand languidly, blood rushing to his tip instantly. He groans as you stare deeply into his jade eyes. You were beautiful and wonderful to him. He didn’t know how he had found you, but he was happy that he had.

Then you slip down to your knees, legs folding perfectly as you continue to stare up at Harry. His eyes widen, realizing only now that you intended to use your mouth. One hand flies to your freshly cleaned hair and the other trails down the side of your face, taking in your beautiful face that is now in front of his hard member. Slowly, you bring your tongue to lick over the now angry red tip of his dick. Harry hisses as you open your mouth fully and begin to bring him completely inside. Your eyes never leave his as you descend until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big, really big, but after all this time you know how much you can take and you sit there for a moment. You let his weight rest in your mouth, he’s warm and you enjoy holding him this close.

Harry groans, “Please,” and you begin to move, seeing the strained look on his face.

Bobbing your head, you take him in and out of your mouth with ease, sometimes taking extra care over his head sucking specifically there. Your movements make Harry moan out and grasp at your hair, keeping it from your face as you work him over. His hips buck into your mouth the faster you take him in your mouth, but he tries to remain still, wanting you to be in control. One of your hands grasps his thigh, over his tiger tattoo, while the other runs over the parts of his dick you can’t take into your mouth. Harry is always vocal, but right now he’s at a loss for words. He feels so loved and cared for in that moment, it’s quick to his release. Your hand on his thigh feels him beginning to shake a bit more and his hips are stuttering more erratically.

He whines out, “I’m close,” and you pull back until your lips are only over his head.

Your tongue flattens over the slit of it and then swirls around it. You suction your lips around his head and suck hard, your hand pumping quickly, your eyes still never leaving Harry’s face. He had closed his eyes a while ago, but opens them up slightly right at his moment of release. He bucks his hips one last time as you moan around him at the feeling of him inside your mouth. His orgasm wracks through him and you continue to suck, trying to take up every last bit.

“Oh fuck,” Harry whimpers, chest heaving and head hanging low as he stares down at you.

The water is still running in the shower over your erotic image. You swallow and pull off of him, placing a gentle kiss to his head before standing up, whispering something inaudible to just Harry’s dick. Harry takes your hands in his and kisses you hungrily as you stand up. The taste of himself still on your lips. His arms are wrapped around your waist and one of his hands cups your ass cheek needily.

Against your lips, he growls, his voice deep and accent thick, “Let me take care of you now.”

You giggle and place your hands on his wet chest. “You don’t need to. I just really wanted to make you feel good.”

“But making you feel good will make me feel good, too,” He whines, pressing you into him more.

“Oh, I know,” you laugh, “But we’re really wasting water now and I want to try the chocolates we bought. You can make me feel good in our bed, this porcelain really isn’t the most comfortable.” You’re completely enjoying Harry’s eagerness to give to you after he had just received, but you were starting to prune from the water and wanted to lie in bed with fluffy robes with him.

He huffs but nods. He kisses your lips a final time and begins to climb out of the shower. “Fine, but I know none of those chocolates can possibly taste as good as what I really want for dessert.”

“You can have your dessert soon enough...Okay, lover boy?”

-

Wrapped up in Harry’s warm embrace, you fall asleep under the Parisian sky. His lips ghost over your collarbones as his head is tucked into you. You sigh in contentment as his hands draw a familiar pattern over your skin on top of your hip. Your mind flits over the moments of today and settles on this one right now. Harry wrapped around you, your legs entangled, warmth surrounding you. It’s peaceful. You’re blissed out from the chocolates and love Harry made to you.

Your eyes flutter open for a moment to look at Harry. His curls and the side of his face are all you can make out in the dim lit room, the moon’s light peaking through the sheer curtains. The slope of his nose is prominent, as well as the stubble beginning to grow on his jaw and cheek. His little moles decorating his otherwise smooth skin. He nuzzles further into you and you feel his stubble rubbing slightly against you, scratching lovingly onto your skin. It feels nice as your eyes close once again beginning to drift off to sleep. But you know no dream could possibly be better than the feeling you have right now, with Harry.

-

💛 love y’all (also I really didn’t proofread so like I maybe contradict some shit I say bc I wrote this over weeks lmao)

[unlocktxt]

in the darkness of tomorrow | c.yj

choi yeonjun x female reader

series masterlist :

prologue | part one | part two

genre: royal au, fluff, angst

description: the selection is happening once more to find a wife for prince yeonjun. y/n swears to hate the royal family, but when it’s time for the prince to choose a wife, she gets tied up in the mess.

note: this is inspired from the book the selection by kiera cass, however even though i use some of the ideas there are major differences.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: mentions being whipped and starved

tag list: @binniebutter @nshitae

this was the first time you had ever felt heartbreak. your heart has been a constant reminder that daniel ended things days ago. it haunted you, even as you passed by all of the bright faces in the city.

it seemed like heartbreak wasn’t enough for you. the world had to punish you some more by the announcement made yesterday. the news spread fast around town that day, “the selection application was required for all women of a given age.” you happened to be a part of that age group.

you doubted that the prince would choose you to even be considered as one of the options, but what if’s filled your mind. you still weren’t ready to let go of daniel. right now you wished you would’ve stayed to hear what he wanted to say, but now it was impossible.

you did anything to get your mind off of his frozen blue eyes, including thinking of the prince. unlike everyone else, you thought that prince yeonjun felt a little too entitled. single, willing women weren’t enough for him so he had to make those whose hearts belonged to someone else apply. unlike all the bright faces hoping to be picked, you didn’t want to be one of his little playthings.

they say that the selection was unbiased, but most people knew that wasn’t true. many girls who were unfortunate enough to be in castes five and lower, where they could hardly or not even make ends meet, rarely ever got picked and they were the ones who needed it most. you could stay a four and bake pastries all your life if it meant the people in castes lower than you could afford food.

besides, you had seen first hand what this kingdom has done and you didn’t agree. you would be caught dead before you ever bowed to their spoiled and corrupt system.

“hey mom!” you put on a small smile to please her worried eyes when you walked into the bakery. her small streaks of grey hair added to her beauty.

“i’m so sorry sweetie. i know how much you didn’t want to apply.” her shoulders relaxed, but she continued to place out new baked goods.

you let out a sigh, “yeah well... it doesn’t matter. it’s not like i’ll get picked.” you smiled at the thought. it was all just a waste of time.

your mom stopped, placing the basket of bread on the counter. “it’s supposed to be random... we never know.”

you furrowed your brows and laughed a bit, while giving your mom a look that said “really?” she smiled, shaking her head to acknowledge that you were probably right.

“anyways... where’s dad and taehyun?” you didn’t see or hear them in the bakery.

your mom looked up at you and for a moment she looked distant before returning to her warm demeanor. you caught the change but decided not to bring it up.

“going on an errand,” she responded simply before filling the basket of bread with a few cakes.

she wasn’t going to give you the chance to ask, but you didn’t mind. you knew she’d tell you later.

“so... this arranged engagement with taehyun.” you looked to the side while preparing your face for a whistle.

“you know he’s a great boy and he’s a doctor... a three. he also helps to manage the orphanage with the eights. he’s a great boy y/n.” your mom looked disappointed when you looked back at her.

“it’s just... when does a four ever get put in an arranged marriage. plus...” you looked down at your hands where your fingers were playing with each other, “what if... i could love someone else.” your eyes glistened at the thought of daniel always waiting for you on that tree branch. you didn’t know what caste he was in... even if he was an eight you’d be willing to be homeless with him... although now he’d be a two... all because of the draft.

your mom sighed as your little sister, seoyeon walked in. “that’s enough for now y/n. take this basket to the orphanage.”

seoyeon was all muddy, indicating how she came inside after playing around in the dirt. you grabbed the basket harshly, trying to show your mom that this was not over.

“can i go with?” seoyeon asked, looking at mom. your mom slightly nodded, so you took seoyeon’s hand in yours. you resisted the urge to glare at your mom before smiling at seoyeon.

“okay... we have to get to the orphanage... what’s the best route?” you asked your sister who wore a sly grin before pulling you out of the door.

seoyeon rushed towards the river as she pulled you along. it was your little secret space that no one visited. the two of you had been running for quite a while, slowly passing by fewer and fewer people.

once the two of you made it to the river, seoyeon balanced on the thin makeshift bridge with her arms sticking out. she wobbled here and there but made it over. you followed soon after, carrying the basket in your hand and making sure to avoid any wet slippery spots on the bridge. seoyeon laughed as you made your way over to her.

“hurry slowpoke!” she called before running off into the field.

you shook your head before fastening your pace. once you got off the bridge you took off into a sprint. by the time you caught up to her she was already at the orphanage and you were panting. that was one thing about seoyeon, for small legs she could sure as hell run.

“it’s about time.” she giggled as she took in your bent-over body. “i was starting to think i should’ve carried the basket.”

you rolled your eyes, waving her off before you straightened up. seoyeon had already run off to play with the kids her age. when you walked in there were a few kids and teenagers around your age sitting towards the entrance.

“are taehyun and jihyun around?” you asked, looking around to see if you had missed them in the small orphanage. all you could see at the moment was how it needed to be remodeled, like many things in this area.

“taehyun left a long while ago, but you could probably find jihyun upstairs if you like.” one of the teenage girls, who you knew to be yui, spoke. you nodded before moving towards the kitchen area to place to basket down, with a little note not to eat more than one.

you knew how hard it was for taehyun and jihyun to keep this orphanage up and running. it was hard to get everyone here a proper meal. taehyun nearly passed out from exhaustion when he came to visit your family. he had given up plenty of food just so those who were sick could eat enough.

you made sure to get the plates and napkins out to remind them not to leave the bread lying in unsanitary areas. once you felt your job had been done, you went upstairs to their office. unlike most days the door was closed. you knew something was wrong and the sniffling coming from the room only confirmed your suspicions.

you hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door and letting yourself in. jihyun’s sorrowful eyes burned through yours, making your heart drop.

“y/n thank god you’re here.” she cried before attacking you in a hug. you rubbed circles on her back to try and get her to calm down.

“what happened?” you asked softly, scared this question might break her.

she sniffled, “o-one of the boys-” she let out a sob and you continued to try and soothe her.

“it’s okay you don’t have to say anything.” at this point you moved one of your hands to her head and rested it there.

“n-no he... he stole some meat and they’re going to whip him y/n. they’re going to whip him. he’s only seven!” she cried looking at you in your eyes. she was pleading, pleading for you to do anything. you weren’t sure you could.

“where’s taehyun?” you asked looking around, maybe he went to help. maybe that’s what he and your dad were doing.

“i don’t know.” she finally calmed a bit, hiccuping here and there. “he left before we received the news.”

you were left to wonder what the two were doing, but you didn’t have time for that.

“i promise i’ll go help the boy.” you gave jihyun a determined look. “what’s his name?” you asked halfway out the door.

“hak hyunwoo.” she barely whispered it, probably ashamed. you gave her a reassuring smile before leaving and finding seoyeon.

by the time you had arrived back home they already were gathering people around the city to witness the poor boys' punishment.

“what is your name boy?” the masked man shouted more to the crowd than to the boy. you had been struggling to get closer to the wooden post.

“hak hyunwoo.” he was crying, his tears wouldn’t stop flooding. he had nobody to watch out for him.

“and what is your crime?” the masked man yelled out once more.

hyunwoo was silent before speaking. “theft.” it was quiet.

“your punishment will be...” he waited to see if the crowd of people would react. only a few weren’t excited, it was disgusting how many people were cheering. everyone was just sitting back... watching.

“thirty strikes to the back!” there was a roar in the crowd, but the noise died out in your mind. that was way too much...

you pushed even harder, “stop!” you screamed, but no one could hear you over the crowd. you saw them grabbing the whip, only making you lunge forward, forgetting about hurting the people in the crowd. you stumbled forward after reaching the front. it didn’t matter if he was an eight, you had to help him.

“wait!” you screamed, now where the two in charge of this could hear. the guards were watching you with cautious eyes.

“miss you can’t intervene.” one man standing to the side had said.

you took a deep breath. “this boy did nothing wrong. can’t you see he’s malnourished? the kingdom failed this poor boy... they’re the ones at fault.” you had to try anything. everyone gasped as you accused the royal family of this boy's actions.

“if you must punish someone. punish me, but theft does not deserve thirty strikes to the back.” everyone's eyes were on you, making you nervous. you never really asked for attention, but here you were gaining it.

the masked man was staring at you, no doubt glaring. “fine. get up here.” he nearly threw kyunwoo off of the tiny stage.

you were surprised that worked, you were just desperate, but now you would have to face the consequences. as you walked past the little boy you told him to run home, which he did. that gave you a little comfort.

“what is your name?” the masked man was seething.

“kim y/n.” you tried to sound brave and strong, but you couldn’t help the waver in your voice.

before he could do anything else, more soldiers rushed toward the tiny wooden stage.

“you mustn’t hurt this young lady. she’s been selected and the prince would like to see her now.”

you weren’t sure which guard had said it. you were stricken with shock. tears threatened to fall and you didn’t know whether it was from the relief of not getting whipped or because you’d have to leave everyone to be a plaything for prince yeonjun.

guards had escorted you back home. you were still in a daze from the information, even as your little sister cheered for you. your mom was the only one to snap you out of the trance.

“i’m sorry sweetie... just know that we will all be waiting and ready for anything that happens. we will support you no matter what.” she rubbed your shoulder as you stared at all of the paperwork in front of you.

there had been a palace worker standing beside you stating the rules and how the caste systems worked as if you didn’t know.

ones were royalty and family of royals. twos were celebrities, soldiers, and politicians. threes were people who worked pretty stable jobs like teaching and nursing. fours were business owners. fives were musicians and entertainers. sixes were those who helped others with jobs. sevens were mainly outdoor workers. then there were eights... these people were mainly cast out of society.

staring at the paper only made you even more frustrated. you were practically signing your life away for the possibility of being a three or one if you’re “lucky.”

everyone had to be virgins, single, and if caught in a relationship could be met with death. you rolled your eyes once more thinking about how it wasn’t optional this year. you guess it was a good thing daniel never asked you out and ended things.

then the man said that it’d be ill-advised to refuse anything the prince asked. that confirmed your suspicions, you were practically being sold off to a spoiled brat. the only one who could send you home was the prince himself and no one got a say in what the prince did.

of course, everyone had to be civil and not fight, but you had to wear what the palace gave you, nothing else. one of the worst things was that you couldn’t leave the palace on your own accord. you’d be trapped and watched for the entertainment of the show.

there was one last thing about being one of the last 10. it meant you were the elite, but you doubted that would ever be you. with that... you signed your love away.

your mom was the one to give the signed paper to the man at the front door who had been waiting to take your paper to the palace. she was going to see you off because your dad still wasn’t back yet.

“wait y/n!” seoyeon ran towards you, hugging your legs tightly. “are you going to be a princess?” her eyes lit up when she asked. you couldn’t crush her.

“maybe... that’s up to the prince.” and that was the truth. you didn’t have a choice, but you’d do everything in your power to leave.

it seemed every choice was being made for you as you followed the palace worker, the guards following behind.

the ride to the palace was slow and lonely. you were forced to look longingly at the forest, regretting not saying goodbye to daniel. you thought of all the things you wanted to say to him.

i’ll wait for you because i love you.

we can get through this.

please don’t leave me.

i can’t live without you.

be safe.

at that moment all you knew was that you had to find him somehow and he’d be in the palace. maybe staying for just a little bit wouldn’t be that bad if you could find him.

when you saw the large palace nausea rested in your throat and stomach. you don’t know why he called you here this early, but it couldn’t be good. all the other girls would be arriving tomorrow morning as they had announced.

it was weird being escorted in, but your nerves were exploding within you. you weren’t ready to see royalty. you vowed to die before you bowed before them, but here you were walking straight in and scanning the area. all you managed to see were maids and soldiers around, giving you another few moments of the pride you were willing to die for.

you were passed off to three maids who had been waiting for you.

“it’s amazing to meet you lady y/n.” the title made your face crunch with distaste.

“please... just call me y/n.” your voice was quiet, not allowing yourself to be comfortable in an unknown area.

“we can’t do that miss.” the shortest of the three informed, making you close your eyes and pray to the heavens that you would be able to survive this.

“okay then... may i know your names?” the three of them looked at each other before the one who led the path spoke up.

“i’m aeri, she's isuel, and that’s minsuh” aeri pointed at each of them. you noted that the shortest one, issue, was probably the youngest. you only nodded in response as they led you further into the palace, upstairs, and down long hallways.

“this will be your room,” aeri announced, opening the door to reveal a large room with many small details on the furniture. it was a bit much, but you didn’t expect anything less from people at the top of the caste system.

“we have to get you dressed because the prince will be seeing you soon.” minsuh rushed over towards the large wardrobe, that when opened revealed many different dresses. all of them... dresses.

“i say we should put you in the pink one!” iseul shouted, excited. the other two nodded enthusiastically, but you were too defeated to protest.

it was almost as if prince yeonjun had been waiting the whole time because as soon as they zipped you up, a knock came from the door. all of the maids ran to the door, leaving your pleading eyes behind.

“your majesty.” was all you heard before a few mumbling and giggling. they rushed out immediately and prince yeonjun replaced them. his hair was dyed pink now, making you wish you protested the dress’s color. your maids were sly.

your heart was pacing, scared from the uncertainty.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you lady y/n.” there it was again. the title you wanted to get away from.

“the pleasure is all mine.” you tried to hide the sarcasm in your voice as you stood strong in front of him. don’t you dare waver.

“i heard you got into some trouble today... i’d like to discuss that.” he was calm, every word held a hidden strength behind it. this was why he called you here early.

“i’d hardly call it trouble.” you stopped to watch him step closer to you. you wanted to tell him to stay away, not get close to touching you, but you kept quiet.

“oh really? you don’t call asking to be punished for someone else’s crimes trouble?” he was standing right in front of you now, but he was relaxed and wore a soft smile. he found this humoring. it was anything but.

“i call that two innocent people paying for a kingdoms failure.” the words slipped out before you could hold them back, but you didn’t regret them. not when you saw how prince yeonjun backed away, looking to the side.

“innocent? he was a thief.” yeonjun looked back at you, determined and unwavering. two could play at that game.

you walked towards him this time. a power move. “the world is not all black and white. he was a young boy, an orphan that was placed as an eight. your rules are the reason he was starving, leaving no option but stealing.” you were glaring now, trying to ignore the fact you had to look up at him.

he didn’t seem to want to back down either. “yet if we let one person steal something what’s stopping others?” he leaned his face closer to yours, noses only inches apart.

don’t you dare give in.

“if higher castes can pay their way out of punishment, why don’t the lower castes get a chance?” at this point, you couldn’t move any closer, but you could spit on him. that was only a passing thought to entertain you.

prince yeonjun was quiet after that, staring into your eyes as if he was trying to search through every part of your life. it felt interrogating. he hadn’t responded, so you took that as his loss and back away.

“is that all you wanted to discuss?” your voice was quieter now, not accusatory.

“for now... but you might want to learn some respect.” and then he left you to be swallowed in your anger.

part 2 sneak peak:

the castle had been dark for a while. all day today you were looking around for a familiar face, one that didn’t seem to show.

the creaking of your door alerting you of a new presence. you swore you told everyone you’d like to sleep peacefully tonight, but here they were interrupting you.

“princ-”

“i heard you’ve been looking for me.” you could recognize that voice anywhere. the playfulness in his tone lit your heart on fire.

[ronalddear]

Experiment.

hey! this is a little one-shot into some DH tent angst (really doesn't get better than that) this is my first time writing any fanfiction at all so bear in mind that this is very armature.

I've been thinking about this idea for a couple months now and it's officially my headcannon replacement for the Harry-Hermione dance scene in DH, which i'm not the biggest fan of. I've already rambled on a bit but please feel free to reblog and comment your opinions and possible improvements!

The ground was inexplicably hard where Ron stood, the canvas tent behind him violently thrashing through the harsh night wind. Perhaps his thin shoes were wearing out after years of being hand-me downs, or months of endless use while they aimlessly trudged around Britain.

Ron knew though, that he was just tired. He didn't know how his shoulders managed to sag with exhaustion while remaining tense in discomfort but that's how he's been since he woke up in that god-forsaken tent.

He checked and re-enforced the wards, something that he was insanely adamant about after returning, paranoia finally setting in. It was constant at this point, hunger had become somewhat familiar and his fingertips were always a faint purple.

Not that he was complaining, he had Harry and Hermione within arms and ears reach now and he could not possibly ask for anything more.

"Ron! Dinner!", Harry's voice rang through his ears, disrupting his thoughts.

Shit. He had done it. He wasn't aware how long he had been wallowing outside and he was sure the porridge he had taken his time making for the three of them had overcooked on the stove.

He could picture Hermione's look of disdain clearly and cursed himself, not wanting her to get more mad at him but also acknowledging how he had wasted their already near non-existent supply of food.

"Merlin, I'm sorry! I'll try and find something else to-" he began with pace and halted halfway through.

Harry stood expectantly in the tiny living room area in front of Hermione who was neatly sat on their tiny couch. Harry's hands were raised excitedly yet awkwardly in an 'L" shape gesturing towards the worn table where Hermione's books usually lived.

Except there was a small space cleared, and it was occupying a small plate which had about 4 stacks of bread, with jam doused in-between and on top, with the wand that he had given Harry stabbed in the middle, a tiny flame at its tip.

Bloody hell it was a birthday cake.

"My birthday already?" he mumbled, still in awe of the poorly presented but beautiful stack in front of him.

"Well-"

'It was yesterday, I checked the calendar this morning." Hermione cut Harry off shortly, her eyes shamefully anywhere but Ron.

"Oh" he said, wishing so desperately that she would just look at him.

"Come on then mate, make your wish, because I'm not bloody singing" Harry encouraged, his eyes shining fondly at Ron.

With a soft chuckle, he sat on the ground at the table, feeling Harry follow next to him. He blew out the 'candle' softly, not even thinking about his wish, there were simply too many.

Harry gave a low whoop and reached over Ron with a knife and fork and haphazardly cut the cake into thirds.

When Hermione's eyes finally reached his, because yes, he had not taken his eyes off her, his stomach gave a jolt and a small smile graced his lips. Her lips however were still set in the line that she had been giving him for the past couple weeks but her eyes were so gentle and loving, almost unwillingly so, as if she was trying so very hard to be mad. After Harry hurriedly plated their shares and they began eating, a small lump began forming in Ron's throat. He willed himself not to cry, it was just sodding jam soaked toast after all.

He looked up at his two best friends as they ate, observing as Harry scarfed down his portion and as Hermione ate slowly, taking sips of her weak tea in between, knowing it was far too sweet for her taste.

"Wish we could have given you a gift." she said so softly, that he had taken a few seconds to register that she said anything at all.

Her eyes were still on her plate.

"Don't need one", he murmured, hoping that he sounded earnest enough that it could translate how very thankful he was.

"Really?! You sure?", Harry said, and Ron swore for a second that it was eleven year old Harry speaking to him. It was evident that the boy was prone to sugar rushes, even if it was a tablespoon of old jam.

"I have all I need.", he said, voice steadier this time, flashing a grateful smile at him, which was returned.

"Really? Not even a special birthday snog Ron? Because if you want I'll do it again-"

"Harry I'm fine! Merlin's Beard!', Ron interrupted Harry's rushed teasing with loud laughter, Harry's roaring laugh following close behind.

"Wait what do you mean again?" Hermione chanced at Harry, her eyebrows furrowed inquisitively and mouth adorably agape.

Breaking their giggling fit, they both turned towards her , eyes widening at the exact same time. It was then Ron realized that there was soft music playing, presumably from the wireless that was on the table. Has it always been on?

'Nothing don't worry."

"Nothing!"

Harry had followed Ron with the most non-convincing 'nothing' he had ever heard. Sensing what was about to happen, he suddenly felt the strongest urge to slap Harry on the back of his head.

"No no, you said again" Hemione retaliated, her eyes wide as ever, it was the most lively Ron had seen her for months.

"It was once in fourth year!"

'Don't worry about it Hermione, it's fine."

Ron's head snapped toward Harry cursing the stupid sugar in the stupid jam that apparently made Harry, quite frankly, very stupid.

"Wait wait! what?!" Hermione was energetic now and had fully swiveled to face them both.

Realizing that he physically could not lie to Hermione straight to her face, he accepted his fate and both boys began rambling at the same time, Harry excitedly, Ron bracingly.

"Look after the Yule ball-"

"This is rather depressing actually-"

"Shut up Ron, you liked it."

"I don't recall saying I didn't-"

'Anyway, after the shit-show that was the ball, y'know, we wanted to see if-"

"Oh my god I can't believe we're actually- We said we wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Bit late now Ron, anyway, we wanted to-'

"To see if what?!" Hermione gaped at them both, she was clearly teasing now, after seeing Harry's frantic (and hand waving heavy) storytelling and Ron's hair to toe blush.

"Just experimenting-"

"Just for fun!" Harry interjected.

They turned towards each other, eyes wide and then proceeded to practically scream at Hermione.

"Just for fun!'

Just experimenting!"

Great. Now they've switched excuses.

Hermione burst into loud laughter, after much suppression. It was, by far, the most beautiful sound Ron had ever heard and he wished for it to never stop.

This unfortunately, did not halt his maroon blush or the clearly embarrassed look on his face, which made her laugh even more. The second he took a glance at Harry and their eyes met they erupted into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, Harry doubling over and Ron throwing his head back. Drunk on laughter perhaps, Harry leaned over to the wireless and increased the volume, a slow yet rhythmic song filled the small tent.

"Let's have a ball yeah? Like last time?' Harry said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively on the last part, causing Ron to start laughing again, completely red faced.

Hermione struggled to breathe giggling as she looked on at them clearly trying to ballroom dance and failing miserably. The form was so bad no one was sure who was leading at this point, Ron's shoulders much too stiff and Harry's hands much too loose around Ron's waist. They were jumping around madly in the tent laughing harder than ever. Hermione managed to tease once more through gasping breaths,

"Should I leave before you start snogging or-"

"Oh shut up you!", Harry exclaimed, accompanied by a rude hand gesture and Ron simply stared at her and grinned.

'Come join us then', Ron said, holding out his hand for her.

She pretended to think for a moment before getting up, the thin blanket around her laid forgotten on the couch. They rotated for a couple moments, Hermione taking turns in being spun by Harry and Ron, all three of them a giggling mess, their threadbare socks squeaking on the wood floors.

Ron and Harry began a much too rough slow dance once more and Hermione was lightly swaying on her own before standing behind Ron, wrapping her arms around his stomach and tiptoeing her furthest, her nose barely reaching his shoulder. Effectively sandwiched between the pair of them, Ron was thrashing widely in attempts to throw them all off balance, cheeks impossibly red. The lump that was in his throat earlier had developed into free flowing tears and sniffles and he didn't care to stop them.

It didn't bother him because he knew he saw Harry's watering eyes and wobbly smile and felt Hermione's soft sobs through her giggles.

It was definitely the sugar or perhaps the sheer sadness of it all but for a moment they were still children who didn't have any worries or wars to fight on their own. Hermione nuzzled into Ron's back, still giggling, and placed a shy but firm kiss on his jumper-clad shoulder. He reached behind him for her hand and gently pulled her to the front, now spinning both Harry and Hermione, his heart glowing with joy. He tugged her towards him and gave a soft, chaste kiss to her hairline. Now both giggling, they seized Harry and planted two very hard kisses on his cheeks from behind, startling him enough to let out a disgusted squeak and he roared with laughter as he wiped his face on his jacket.

It was insanely messy but it was perfect. So perfect that Ron didn't care that in the morning he would have to second guess if Hermione was even close to forgiving him or that Harry would brood all day about the Hallows and be distant from them both, a war on their shoulders. He was with the two people he loved the most and for that he was thankful.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Dimension Jumping Pt. 5

Comforting a grieving hobbit and time get everyone ready to go out!

Via the genius idea from katzrfsoa / Kat88

There's been mention of the reader not wanting to take the groups out, for fear of the public's reaction... so what about a cosplay convention? it would give the Reader the perfect excuse to allow them out, and they would wear their original clothes 

----

This morning has been uneventful for the most part.

Breakfast passed by without issue and now everyone is off doing their own things.

You looked outside and took a peek in the guest room, but you still can't find him.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin are playing a board game you showed them; Legolas is doing his meditation sleep thing; Boromir and Aragorn are discussing something; and Gimli is stacking bread on Legolas' leg to see how long it takes until he notices.

Frodo, however, is missing at the moment.

Right as you were considering telling the others of his disappearance, however, you heard some shuffling from your hall closet.

You open the door carefully and take peer inside, not wanting to startle the small hobbit, and at first you don't see him.

There's more shuffling and you hear a quiet sniff, followed by soft sobs, and you then realize he's hiding behind the shelf.

The door makes a soft clicking sound when you close it, and right away the quiet cries cease. You didn't want to alert him with the door, you wanted to do it yourself, but it's too late now, so you just go with it.

"Frodo?" You call in a gentle voice, staying by the door incase he wants you to go.

"Y-Yes?' He calls back, not moving from his spot.

His voice is thick with emotion, and the sadness in his tone makes your heart ache painfully. And when you walk closer and see him huddled up behind the shelf, your heart breaks a little for him.

He hastily rids his cheeks of any evidence of his sorrows, though the puffiness around his eyes and constant sniffles don't much help his cause, and looks at you with a false smile.

"Frodo, why are you crying?" You ask with furrowed eyebrows, kneeling down in front of him so you may look at him at eye level (mostly).

"It's nothing." He tells you quickly, looking away from your compassionate face with the same sad frown on his lips.

When you don't move to get up or leave, his gaze slides back over to you and he realizes that you're not going to leave unless he straight up tells you to go away. This makes him sigh, but truthfully, he doesn't want you to go away. Not really. For having company in a time of sorrow always mends suffering.

"I... did not have a proper time to mourn Gandalf. I've been so caught up in the oddity that is this place that I almost forgot my sorrows altogether, but then this morning is all... came rushing back." He explains with a surprisingly even voice.

While he speaks you cross your legs and listen along intently, your hands folded neatly in your lap. When he finishes, you reach forward and place your hand atop his with a gentle touch, "I didn't know him, but I can tell he was very dear to you. Honestly, I can't offer much advice, but I can tell you that keeping it all bottled up inside is not a good idea."

He looks at you with that sad face when you speak, and it prompts you to continue, "Also, I know everyone else can be pretty overwhelming or they just don't understand, and I want you to know that I'm always here to listen if you're feeling down, okay?"

Your words draw a small smile from the grieving hobbit and it elicits a similar grin from you.

"Thank you, Y/N. I... actually do feel a little better."

"I'm glad."

---

After your discussion with Frodo you rejoin everyone back out in the main room and let him recollect himself, going right onto your laptop to get some work done.

You're idly scrolling through a scholarly article you need to research when you see it.

An advertisement for some sort of comic book, cosplay, convention... thing in the area (no wonder you've been seeing so many oddly dressed people recently).

At first you almost scroll past it, but then you get hit with the brick of knowledge and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

"Yes!" You scream, successfully scaring everyone in the room and Penny who is sitting with you for once. "Ohh, my god. This is freaking perfect!" You exclaim, clicking on the link to get some more information.

Your eyes practically soak up everything on the information page, and, once you've skimmed through all of it, you look up with a bright smile on your face.

Literally all of them are looking at you like you've grown two heads, but you only clap your hands together a few times. "Guys, I just had a huge brain moment!"

The joke goes over their heads as per usual, but you don't let that deter you.

"Huge brain moment?" Pippin asks in confusion, looking at his cousin like he thinks he heard it wrong or something.

"Yes! I've figured out a way to take everyone out!"

That certainly gets their attention.

"You have?" Sam asks exuberantly, dropping his game piece so he can turn towards you and pay perfect attention.

"I have, yes," you start, continuing once you're 100% sure they're all paying attention, "So here's the thing, I knew that I could take out you tall boi's without issue besides having to find a hat for Legolas here, and I could explain that Gimli here has dwarfism," you pause at that and realize it may be offensive to him, but you continue once more, "but I also knew that there's no way I can explain away the hobbits, and then I found this gem."

You turn the computer so it faces all of them, but they only look more confused.

"There's a convention thing in town for the next week, and it's the perfect opportunity for me to bring everyone out! We just have to dress up the hobbits a bit and pretend that they're children."

At your explanation you receive multiple pleased smiles, and it serves to make you feel even better about your idea. "And you can all wear your normal clothes, too. And if someone asks who you are... I'll figure out a game or something you guys can use as an alias."

"Are you sure that will work?" Aragorn asks with furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from his spot in your arm chair.

"Um, like, maybe 98%." You confirm with a shrug, "It's better than 88% though."

He doesn't seem like he disagrees with you, so you look back at your laptop again and start to look for ideas to make them more believable as humans.

---

3 hours of research later, and you've successfully compiled a completely fool proof plan to smuggle this merry band of bizarre boys out of your house.

What you've decided is that you'll put some makeup over Legolas' pointy ears to make them look more fake since the concept of elves is not lost in this world. Boromir and Aragorn can go as themselves, and you'll put some makeup on the hobbits much like you will Legolas (they'll be children elves since there are no hobbits in your world) and tell everyone who asks how they look so good that you're a professional makeup artist.

Gimli, fortunately for you, was the easiest to come up with something for next to the other two humans of this group. You can just tell people he has dwarfism and that's why he chose to go as a dwarf character.

Everything is in order except for what you're going to do, though you suppose you should match their theme and be some sort of renaissance, maiden, lady, thing. You'll figure it out, though you do need to make sure it's convincing like theirs.

You decided to, instead of putting it off, go ahead and start working on finding a costume to match theirs.

A couple of searches later and you come across a really pretty dress that looks to fit their style, and when you show it to them they give you the thumbs up, so you order it with express shipping so it should arrive tomorrow.

It's a lovely flowy medieval dress *just look up flowy medieval dress and go to images, there are some good examples there*, and you feel excited just looking at it. Of course, there's no guarantee that it'll be the best quality, but it's got great reviews and you certainly paid a hefty sum for it.

After that's done with you head to your bathroom to see what makeup you've got, and you find that you don't really have any theatrical/special effects makeup. You're going to need skin colored wax makeup, powders, and contour stuff.

You're no makeup artist, obviously, but luckily for you, your goal is to make them look less realistic, so it should be easy enough.

It's surprisingly easy to figure out what you need to make them as convincing as possible, and pretty soon you've got a nice little list going on that outlines each thing you need.

Since you don't want to delay anymore, you head out of your bathroom and grab your bag while putting on your shoes, "Legolas, I'm leaving now if you wanna come with." You suggest since he stated his desire to join you in the one of the last chapters (:o).

When you call his name he looks over at you quickly, smiling a bit at your offer, "Yes, but you said I need a hat."

"Oh yeah! I have one, just gimme a sec." You tell him, walking over to a drawer.

When you open said drawer, you find a grey beanie with ease and toss it over to him, "Here ya go. Make sure it covers your ears... and uh, tuck your hair up into it too if you don't mind."

He does as you say with ease and, surprisingly, he looks just as good with shorter hair as he does longer hair.

It sticks kinda awkwardly at first, so you waltz on over and gesture for him to crouch down so you don't have to reach up.

Once again he does as you request and leans down so you may fix it.

You adjust it a bit to make sure it won't fall first, and then you smooth it back a bit so it'll also look stylish. And once you're done you take a step back and smile at him brightly.

"All done! Let's go!"

---

He seemed rather fascinated in the way your car works first and foremost, but once you got him to look out his window instead of watching you, his excitement quickly turned into awe.

When you both get to the ULTA store he follows you without hesitation and asks some hushed questions about things he sees, like the light up signs, other passing cars, stoplights, and some other things.

You, of course, answer each question happily and lead him inside, holding the door open for him while he enters and looks around the brightly lit up makeup store.

Right away you head towards the general direction of the nose and scar wax (it's multi purpose, don't judge me), forgetting to make sure that Legolas follows you.

When it does occur to you, however, that the blond elf didn't come after you, you panic.

You turn in a circle and only stop when you see him standing with some ladies who practically have hearts in their eyes.

Unconsciously you breathe a sigh of relief and head over with the wax in your little basket, immediately reaching up to wrap your arm around his, "I got the first thing on my list, come on."

The girls stop their giggles and flirting as soon as you show up and look genuinely surprised.

You give them a smile and nod in acknowledgement, not wanting to make them feel bad over something so silly before turning with your arm still around his own and walking him over to look at some contour stuff and other things.

They make some snide comments when you turn your back about you being a 'clingy girlfriend' and 'not pretty enough to be with a model like that', but you only ignore it and relish in the fact that you didn't make them feel bad over something as silly as a cute guy in a makeup store.

"Why are those women talking about you like that?" He asks in a whisper, leaning down so only you will hear his question.

You look up at him with a bit or surprise since you didn't expect him to pick up on that, before you smile, "They're attracted to you, and they think that I was being selfish with taking you away from their advances."

"Selfish? Advances?" He looks confused, but you only smile and turn back to the display case.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Leggy my boy."

"Leggy?" He asks slowly, looking at you in confusion.

"Leggy." You confirm with a nod with a distracted hum.

It isn't much later that you have everything you need, and so you go to the checkout and buy everything.

"Going to the convention?" The girl at the counter asks with a smile.

You smile back and nod your head, glancing up at Legolas before looking back at her, "That obvious?"

"No of course not, just the items in your basket always fly off the shelves around convention time." She replies with a giggle, ringing up all your items.

"Well, that's fair." You muse, putting your card into the reader to pay for it.

Once everything is in order she hands you your receipt and adds, "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe!" You chirp back happily, liking the nice conversation going on here.

"You and your boyfriend have a good day now!"

You elect to ignore that.

---

On the way home you pretend to not notice the black car following yours and make small talk with the elf, answering some more of his questions and speaking idly on different things.

"There are so many odd, interesting things here..." He comments after a while, glancing out the back window. "Are you aware that, that car has been following us for the past 10 minutes?"

You nod and hum as an answer, "Mmhm, it's just Brian. He's probably trying to figure out who you are."

The blond knits his eyebrows together and glances back to look at the car again, "Should I do something about it?"

"The only thing you can do is ignore it. He went from lowercase 's' stalker to uppercase 's' since you guys arrived, and it'll only get worse if you intervene." You mumble, trying not to look in the rearview mirror at him. "It's fine."

"You don't seem to think it's fine." He challenges in the same even tone, turning in his seat towards you.

Instead of answering his question you look at him while you stop at a light and grumble, "I told you to put your seatbelt on."

"It's uncomfortable."

"I don't care."

"I will be fine."

"Not if we get into a crash, you won't."

The two of you stare each other down before he slowly reaches up and buckles his belt, never breaking eye-contact.

"Good boy." You coo in a way-too sweet voice.

"Anyways, I know we said as much before, but you needn't worry about that man while we're here." He continues despite your obvious subject change.

"I know." Your reply is softer and less defensive this time, for you really do appreciate it, "Thank you."

He looks surprised at your sudden gratitude, and his expression shows as much "For what?"

"For being you. For looking out for me. All of you."

This time he smiles and says no more.

---

When you both get back to your house you immediately put everything in your bathroom and get onto your laptop to view some techniques on theatrical and movie makeup, Pippin and Merry on either side of you while they view through the pictures and videos with you.

"That one looks interesting." Merry pipes up suddenly, pointing at a person to wolf makeup transformation.

"Yep, and way past anything I can do."

This pattern of going through pictures and viewing clips goes on for a little while until they two hobbits depart to have lunch, meanwhile you continue on so that tomorrow will be a success.

You're both excited and nervous at the same time, wanting to see how it'll all turn out but also dreading it incase something goes wrong.

You know the most important thing is to have a positive mindset about it, but it's kinda hard sometimes during your more anxious moments.

Also, there's the issue of Brian possibly following all of you...

Nah, that'll be a problem to think on for tomorrow.

"What time will we leave tomorrow?" Aragorn asks from his usual spot on the rocking chair, Penny still nestled in his lap as per usual.

"Around the morning. I bought the tickets already so we won't have to stand in line for too long... Hopefully."

"Thank you for working so hard so that we may see more of your world." He comments suddenly, stroking his hand down her fluffy back.

You tilt your head to the side and smile a bit, "You don't have to thank me."

"No, I do. You have seen to our every need and we no doubt pose to be a huge burden. Thank you, really."

His words make you flush slightly, and you look away shyly.

You've grown to care about all of them, so of course you would do anything to keep them comfortable at this point. More than anything you're just glad they see how much you're trying to make things easy on them. It feels nice being recognized for your efforts.

Plus, the added protection from Brian is pretty sweet.

"Anything for you guys."

[mouse-fantoms]

Helpful

...THIS IS COMPLETELY BC I SAW THIS

Reggie helping Ray, Ray becoming suspicious of his house, follows Julie out to the garage after an incident of the helpfulness in the house

Either Ray was a forgetful person or something else was going on.

It had started when the items he seemed to misplace, seemed to suddenly appear in the most obvious of places. Even though he was 100% sure that he had already checked there.

Such as the time when he had padded his pockets down before leaving for work and realized his wallet was missing. He would normally recruit one of his kids for help but the two were currently at school. Maybe it had fallen between the couch cushions? Nope. Maybe the computer desk? He did a quick scan and nope, not there either. Maybe the dining table? He did place his laptop there to do work sometimes, it made sense it might- not there either. Where on Earth was it? Perhaps he didn’t check the cough throughly enough. He went back to the living room and as soon as he entered his eyes landed to the corner of the computer desk. Right there, placed on the corner, in plain view, was his leather wallet.

He thought it was a little odd considering he had just checked there. He was more so concerned about getting to his job on time and took the wallet off the table and in his back pocket and out the door he went to his job.

If the wallet incident was the only occasion, he probably would have let it slid. However, that was not the only incident. It seemed to only happened when he verbally said what he was missing... odd. A few misplaced things being found here and there could fully well be him being forgetful. Or maybe something else was going on in his house.

~~~

“Julie,” Ray requested after his daughter got up from the table to put her plate in the sink that was full of dirty dishes, “your turn.”

“I know, I know.” She said in response to her dad reminding her to do a chore. “Just let me-”

“Ah uh.” He blocked the archway that lead to the dining room. “When you go out there you lose track of time.”

He didn’t mind that she was spending so much time in the garage, it was the constant reminder of his wife, her mother, after all. The only time he did mind was when it got in the way of Julie’s chores.

“Sorry, I get caught up with band things. I just need to grab something I left in there earlier. I’ll come right back in and do the dishes. Promise.”

He dropped his hands from the doorframe and let her pass since he knew she would keep her word. He didn’t know what kept her in there for hours, she would say band things but how much could get done in there by herself? Maybe he could ask for more information about her band at a later time. Preferably about the sleeveless one.

A few minutes later, after he had sat at the computer desk to check his work emails, he heard the back door. Julie came around the kitchen corner and stopped by the bottom of the staircase to talk to him.

“I told you I would be right back.” She let out, her backpack strung on her shoulder, the item she had gone to retrieve. “You didn’t have to do them.”

He looked quizzical. “What?”

“The dishes. I said I would be-”

She paused her sentence seeing him get up from the desk and walk passed her. They both looked in and saw the now empty sink that was once piled with dirty dishes.

“How did...? I never...?”

“Uh...” Julie said in response to Ray’s clear confusion. “Maybe Carlos did them...” she trailed off, he could tell she didn’t fully believe herself either.

“You know your brother.”

“Well... at least they’re done now.” She set her bag down on the floor.

“Where are you-”

“Forgot something else!” She called as she rounded the corner and went out the back door again, this time looking like she was annoyed.

~~~

“Did- did you...?” Ray asked to his son in response to opening the fridge to get breakfast ready for his kids on the Saturday morning. He knew what he alluded to wasn’t the answer, he knew his son, but was looking for one.

Carlos was sat at the stool of the kitchen counter, seeing his dad open the fridge in plain view. “Maybe Tia brought it?”

Ray held a clear plastic wrapped paper plate of scrabbled eggs in his hand.

He shook his head. “She didn’t bring this.”

“Maybe it’s a ghost.”

“What?”

“The chef ghost.”

“I thought we did his ‘unfinished business’.”

“Maybe it wasn’t.” He shrugged.

Julie came down the stairs into the kitchen. “Eggs?”

“Dad found them in the fridge.” Her brother informed.

“Tia didn’t bring them.” Ray added.

He could have sworn he saw his daughter looking next to him, passed the kitchen island, by the stove. Then her face turned to an annoyed one. Her eyes went back to her dad.

“Maybe you-“

“AHHHHH!” A unison shriek came from the family of three hearing the noise the toaster made.

He dropped the paper plate on the island and went over to the toaster. From the toaster popped up evenly toasted bread.

“I’m telling you it’s probably the ghost.” Ray didn’t catch the elbow hit that Julie did to her brother. “Chef ghost!” He corrected.

“That’s not-” he began to shake his head even though the toast he picked up was not a good point to prove his arugment.

“I didn’t put the toast in, you didn’t put the toast in, Julie didn’t.”

Ray saw from the corner of his eye Julie get a frustrated look and walk away. He looked over his shoulder, saw her go around the corner and heard the back door. He looked to Carlos for some answer.

“Maybe the haunting is too much for her.” He found an excuse.

He dropped the toast back into the device it came from.

“Don’t eat that.” He didn’t need to even look at his son to know he had already grabbed the food he dropped back in. “We don’t know where it’s been.” He advised before going out the back door himself to follow his daughter.

~~~

“Reggie...”

The one in question fell off the couch once Julie closed the door.

“I was being helpful!” He put his palms up in defense.

Luke looked down at his friend on his right who was on the floor and back to Julie, who was clearly irrated based on her crossed arms. He was on the couch with his leg rested on the coffee table in front of him, journal open in his lap, pen in hand.

“What’d he do this time?” Alex asked sat in the chair by the couch, fiddling with his drum sticks.

“I don’t mind you being helpful,” she dropped her arms, stepping closer to the couch, “but when my dad is around-”

“Helpful?” Luke asked wanting more information. “Wait did you do the dishes again?” Recalling the night Julie came back into the garage after getting her backpack. She had given Reggie a warning about being helpful when other people were around.

“No, he made us eggs.”

Alex gasped looking down Reggie on the floor. “You made them your eggs? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“We wouldn’t be able to eat them anyways.” He put his arms on the edge of the couch and pushed himself back up next to Luke. “Did you get the toast?”

“You could have warned me. Instead of all of us screaming when it popped up.”

“You glared at me when you found out about the eggs. I poofed out because I panicked.”

“Understandable.” Luke sided with Reggie. “Julie’s glares are-” his eyes looked up to the girl who had now re-crossed her arms, looking to hear his answer. “...Understandable.” He repeated not wanting to get in trouble looking back down to the open page in his lap.

“If any of you are going to be ‘helpful’,” she put in air quotes, “be careful when my dad’s around.”

“Maybe you could tell him about us.” Alex suggested Luke’s old one. “Your brother knows, it’s gone pretty well so far.”

“Except for his constant questions.” Luke input.

“He gets so excited though whenever we pick something up.” Reggie countered.

Julie added. “Also when he asks if any of you are in the room.”

“Flynn knows.” Alex added onto his suggestion. “It’s gone well too.”

“I had to tell Flynn though,” she was contemplating the idea, “Carlos found out on his own. What am I supposed to tell him? ‘Hey Dad, the boys in my band are ghosts that live in our garage. The one who’s been helping around the house, that’s Reggie. I didn’t tell you do so long because you would have me visiting Dr. Turner again.’?”

“...well if you want to put it brief.” Luke nodded.

“Just all of you be careful if you’re in the house when my dad’s around.” She repeated to them and headed to the door. She froze once she opened it.

“We can talk about it later,” Ray addressed what he overheard, “but thank you Reggie.” He peaked his head into the studio, looking around to hopefully meet the eyes of the helpful ghost so he knew how appreciative he was. “Is he at the couch?”

“Umm...” he knew his daughter was obviously at a lose of words as a result of him now knowing this information. “...yeah...” she finally said, “How’d... How’d you know?”

“Well, there’s a pen and book floating, also a drumsticks above the chair.”

She looked back at the couch. To her it was the familiar sight of Luke with his journal and pen in hand and Alex with his sticks. To anyone else, they would appear to be objects floating. She turned back to her dad.

“Yeah he’s at the couch. Luke had the journal and pen, Reggie’s next to him and Alex has the sticks.”

He nodded. “Why don’t you come back inside and have some breakfast?”

“You’re taking this rather well.”

He shrugged. “They brought music back to my little girl. How else am I supposed to respond?”

A smile appeared on her face. “Yeah they’re pretty great.” She followed her dad back to the house once closing the garage door behind her. She knew questions would follow, some she had answers to and other’s she didn’t, but it was nice not having to keep them a secret from him anymore.

It was nice to know he wasn’t being forgetful and that something else was truly going on. Out of all the things that could have been going on, having his daughter be in a ghost band, one where one of them is apperently an extra hand around the house, that wasn’t the worst option.

A smile was on her face whenever she was with her band. A smile he hadn’t seen in over a year. The way she was eager to go to the garage everyday. The passion all of them had showed through in their performances. He might not have known all the details yet but what he did know was that her band made her happy and that was enough for him.

[deaddovecoterie]

confessions

co-written with @whoseblogsthis

Peeta Mellark x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you!” 

Fandom: the hunger games

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): swearing, unedited, two oblivious dumbasses in love

Genre(s): angst, fluff

A/N: LMAO HI GUYSSSS. so i had the INSANE privilege of writing with my mutual, friend, and insanely talented writer, @whoseblogsthis, ky. i obviously couldn’t have done this without her and im so so blown away by her and her talents. this is basically our child and baby and so im basically screaming right now cause we just finished this and its 1:01am. ANYWAY i really really hope you guys love this as much as we loved writing it <3 mwuah love you all

main stuff -> y/n (your name)

-> e/c (your eye colour)

-> y/l/n (your last name)

Peeta Mellark. 

He was your constant; your rock. You could rely on him for anything and everything.

He was the steadiest thing you’d had in your life for a long time now, but as he took your wrist and led you upstairs away from the party, you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble up in your chest. 

“Peeta, what—”

“Why?” he nearly shouts. Peeta is mild mannered. He’s many things, actually; polite, charming, and personable, but angry was not one of them. It didn’t scare you like you’d always expected it to, but rather frustrated you. 

“Why what, Peeta?” you hiss back. 

He looks at you as if you had just grown two heads, his brows knit together in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” he breathes. You shake your head, not understanding what he is trying to get at. You defensively cross your arms, knowing the juvenile element would annoy him, but having nothing to do with your hands increases your already anxious state.

“That guy,”

“That guy?”

“Yes, y/n, yes. That guy that was just a little too friendly with you? So close to you that he was practically crawling under your goddamn skin? What were you thinking?”

You laugh at him, unable to contain it. “I can handle myself perfectly fine. Why are you being such an ass?” you all but shout at him. “It’s none of your business anyway?” 

“Hm, let’s see y/n, he could’ve, god, I don’t know, taken advantage of you?” 

You scoff, unable to handle his cliché statement. 

He brings his hands up and pushes his hair back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhales heavily through his nose. You squint at him, unable to read the emotions on his face. 

“What is up with you?” you whisper, not quite sure if he was able to hear. Your eyes narrow, unsure of what his next words might be. 

“For someone so smart, you can be so goddamn oblivious sometimes, y/l/s.”

“Oh my god, what is with all the stupid riddles tonight? I can’t read your mind! You can’t expect me to just know things,” you exasperate, throwing your hands out in front of you. “For someone who’s supposed to be good at communication, you’re doing a pretty shitty job of displaying it,” you spit, throwing his words right back at him. 

“Fine,” he hisses, starting to move towards you.

You cock your eyebrow at him, your bodies coming closer, nearly closing the gap.

“Fine?” you question.

“Yeah.” he huffs out, repeating the word with an heir of finality, “yeah.” His breath warms your face, the scent of vodka invading your senses.

Your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of his proximity. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. He can’t meet your eyes, his heart hammering against his chest so loud that it feels as though you can hear it. His head drops along with his gaze, studying the floor before chancing a glance at you. Peeta lets go of a breathy laugh as words tumble out of his mouth.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he breathes, his words choked, hardly audible, him now looking you right in the eyes. Your stomach does a flip once, unsure of his next words. Blue eyes stare at your e/c ones that are clouded in confusion. You can feel his frustration start to build as he takes a step back from you, his voice rising and hands coming from his sides. 

“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out. 

Oh my god.

You stare at him in shock, his proclamation stunning you. You blink once, twice, as his words echoing through your head.

His hazel eyes bore into your e/c ones, willing you to say something, anything, to let him know you heard him. But yet you stand there, unable to find the words. 

Nothing is coming out.

Say something, you beg yourself, wanting to scream out an answer, yet your mouth continues to remain shut. You swallow hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper. How could you be so oblivious to his feelings? You and him have known each other since childhood, yet there you are, standing only inches away from him, the truth finally known. It seemed 

The look in his eyes is absolutely heart-wrenching; if you hadn’t just heard him, you’d have thought he had lost his best friend. In a way, you guess, he had. 

Peeta just shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders in such a way that makes you want to reach out and take his hand. His dark waves fall over his eyes and he turns around, facing the door.

“I—” you begin, but you know it’s too late. 

“Just, um, forget it, y/n,” his voice soft, small, “I’ll see you in environmental studies.”

He opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. You want to scream, to tell him to come back.  

“Dammit!” you exclaim, throwing your red solo cup as hard as you can at the wall. The contents spill all over, some of the liquid splashing on you but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You reach to pull at your loosely braided hair, a habit of yours that came out whenever you were experiencing an excess of negative emotions, before you realize where you are. You harshly rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you remind yourself to breathe. 

In, out . . . In, out. 

“Get it together,” you tell yourself, taking one last deep breath. “Okay.”

You turn to head back downstairs to the party, nothing on your mind except finding Peeta and setting everything straight, hoping at this point that that was even a possibility anymore. 

God, you hated this part. You hated having to make up. Saying sorry was never your strong suit, your pride always getting in the way. But this? This was not a matter of pride. This was about finally coming to terms with the truth that you so desperately tried to avoid for years. 

You almost trip as you descend the stairs, looking everywhere for Peeta but unable to find him anywhere in the crowd. 

Spotting a head of wavy bronze hair by the water cooler, you rush over to your english lit classmate, who is also a friend of Peeta’s; Finnick Odair. 

“Hey Finnick,” you say once you reach him, trying to keep your voice even. He greets you with his signature smirk before bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip.

“Ah, y/n, having a good time I trust?”

“Trying to,” you grumble. Finnick gives you a quizzical look before you proceed; “Have you seen Peeta?” You can’t help but notice the slight crack in your voice when you say his name.

“Yeah,” he confirms, “I saw him leave a few minutes ago. Seemed pretty upset.” 

“Yeah, wonder why,” you mutter bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t hear your words above the music. 

You bite your lip, weighing the option of asking Finnick to help you find Peeta. Half of you wanted to go and find him yourself, your need to get the weight off your chest as quickly as possible, the other half of you wanting to stall for as long as you could.

 “Could you text him? Ask him where he is?” 

“Why can’t you?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. “Because, I—” 

“Wait,” Finnick’s smile widens. “Wait, are you the reason he’s upset?” 

Your silence is enough for him. His dopey smile falters for a moment, an emotion that you could only define as realization sweeping over his face. He shakes his head softly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and opening his texts. His thumbs glide swiftly across the screen as he compiles a message to send to Peeta. 

You can’t have been standing there for more than a minute when his phone dings. Finnick flashes you the screen. 

From: Pita Bread 

I’m fine... at the pond. 

“Thank you, Finnick, really,” you breathe.

He just nods, taking another sip of his drink. 

You rush out of the frat house the party was being held in, running across the street to Panem University’s main campus, willing your legs to go faster. 

The pond was at the northern end of campus, smack in the middle of Tribute Hall and the Coriolanus Snow Study Center. You see a silhouette sitting on one of the few stone benches surrounding the body of tranquil water, tossing handfuls of what you can only assume is trail mix at the ducks that liked to take up at the pond. 

You slow down, bringing your footfalls to a trot, then silently padding your way over the grass towards him. Your chest is heaving from the exertion as you try to make your breaths even.

“Peeta,” You call out, your voice void of any venom as you stalk towards the boy. You’re almost inclined to slap him because of how he acted. No rational person could expect someone to give them an answer to a question as heavily weighed as that right away. 

He stands up once you reach him, refusing to look you in the eyes. For a fleeting moment, you catch the grief-stricken look in his usually bright eyes and it’s enough to keep you from raising your hand at him. 

“Why did you leave like that?” you breathe out. He shrugs a shoulder with almost casual indifference. “Peeta.” you nearly plead, looking at him as your eyebrows knit together.

“What did you expect me to do?” he says feebly. 

You look up at the night sky, inhaling deeply as you hurriedly send off a prayer to whatever higher power that you can say everything you want to say to him, in the way you want to say it. 

In a way that says something to him. Means something. 

The stars seem to twinkle brighter, almost like they received your message. God, this is so hard.

Peeta is still looking anywhere but at you, his focus now on the ducks idling in the water. 

“You could have waited for me,” you say. “I mean, come on! That was… big. A big thing to drop on me,” you add, “so of course I was shocked. But if you had just waited for me . . .” 

“What?” he snorts, finally looking you in the eyes. “What would you have said that couldn’t have possibly made me feel like more of a fool than I already was? What—” 

“I love you,” you blurt. 

Here it goes.

“And not in a ‘you’ve always been there for me, so I’m kind of indebted to you’ kind of way but in a way that’s like, ‘I want to do cheesy stuff with you because I know it will make you smile.’ That’s like, I would do anything, anything to prove to you that I’m worthy of your love. Peeta, you’ve seen everything I was and everything I am, and it just— I just couldn’t believe when you said that . . . But I— I trust you with everything in me and it frightens me, because you know I’ve been hurt before, but I can’t deny that everything feels right when I’m with you. I just. I want another chance. If, if you’ll let me.” You breath the words out, hardly anything but air coming out.  

“Y/n, breathe.” 

“Right,” you exhale, your mind swirling around, making vertigo seem like a walk in the park. 

“You’re not . . . unworthy of love,” Peeta begins but he stops, trying to figure out his words. “What Cato did to you, it doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love. He’s.. an asshole, who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I— I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that, but seeing you with that guy, he just reminded me so much of Cato, and it made me so mad because I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I.. couldn’t help but think it was my final chance to tell you how I felt.” 

“Final chance?” 

“Y/n, I’ve loved you since like year six.” 

“Peeta, you absolute dumbass!” you exclaim, quickly going to cover your mouth as your own words shock even yourself. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . wow,” a laugh nearly escapes your lips. “We’re both oblivious fools, huh?” 

Peeta’s brows furrow in confusion, as you let out a soft chuckle. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his soft curls falling into his blue eyes. This moment is one you’ll always remember, you think to yourself, already trying to commit it to memory. The way the trees slightly sway from the late summer breeze, the moonlight reflecting off the water; best of all, the glint in Peeta’s eye when your gazes meet. It’s so cheesy, really, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve played it over and over in your head for years, different scenarios always being formulated, but nothing you could have ever dreamt of could compare to this moment. 

“I’ve loved you since year seven,” you tell him, every word of it true. “I can’t believe it took us both this long. Could have avoided the whole Cato fiasco of year twelve, I suppose, if we had just . . . had the gall to tell each other back then, I guess,” you say, the last sentence mumbled.

“Yeah.” Peeta laughs, a genuine deep laugh that reaches his eyes. It rouses the butterflies that have been in the pit of your stomach, the fluttering making you nervous as you watch him scratch the base of his neck almost embarrassedly. 

“So,” you say, dragging the ‘o’ sound. “Pretty sure this is the part where most people would kiss.” 

“Do you want to kiss me?” 

“No, not you, Peeta. I was talking to the duck behind you,” You frown, unable to contain the scoff that passes your lips. “Yes.. yes, I want to kiss you,” you breathe, your pulse hammering.

You step forward, your hands reaching up, gliding against his cheeks, his hands resting on your waist. In a moment of bravery, you place your lips against his. They’re soft, and he tastes like cedar and bread, and it’s like coming home, being in his arms as his lips move against yours, the breeze chilling your skin but his warming you. 

There are no words spoken between the two of you as you both pull away. His eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks; the corners of his mouth are pulled up slightly. 

God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful. That word is usually reserved for sceneries, sunsets or pretty dresses, but in this moment, you can’t tear your eyes away from him. 

“Finally!” someone shouts, causing the both of you to jump back from each other, acting like two first years getting caught passing notes in class. You look around before your eyes land on Johanna Mason, leaning against the statue of the university founder Alma Coin that’s off to the left of the entrance of the study center. Finnick is with her, his signature smirk gracing his elegant features once more. “We were wondering when you two would have the balls to tell each other how you felt.” 

“It seems everyone knew but you two,” Finnick adds with a deep chuckle. 

“Alright, Finny, I think we should leave the two lovebirds alone.” Johanna says, turning away. “Be safe, you two!” 

“If you need anything,” Finnick winks at Peeta. “You know where to reach me.”  

You laugh softly, leaning your head against Peeta’s chest. His arms wrap around you, encasing you in him. His cheeks rests on the top of your head, his breaths evening out as you listen to his steady heart beat. 

This is it. This is home. 

[safebubblebycyg]

harry potter characters and the things they all say the most often:

golden era:

harry: "i shouldnt have to do homework, im the chosen one"

ron: "bloody hell" or "im kinda hungry"

hermione: "...did i actually do the essay or did i dream about doing it..."

neville: "i think ive already watered this plant today, but who knows, im sure itll appreciate a little extra love"

luna: "oh, that's odd"

ginny: *screams* "and that is how i feel about women"

draco: "but daddy ):"

blaise: "you think snape owns like, 18 of the same robes?"

pansy: "this bitch-"

fred: "so in theory, how many fireworks would it take to burn down a building?"

george: *constantly singing his actions* "going to the bathroooommm~~ taking a pissssss~~~"

dean: *tired gay noises*

seamus: *angry gay irish noises*

cho: "nothing pains my soul more than being attracted to men dumber than me"

lavender: "why date men when you have ☆women☆"

cedric: *sips scolding hot tea* "in conclusion, i didnt do this paper because im in a constant bisexual panic"

marauders era:

sirius: *screams* "WHAT IF I GET OLD AND GO BALD"

james: *passive aggressively folds one of the marauders laundry* "i cant be everyones mum, yknow"

remus: "...if i consume enough chocolate...will it make my hair darker..?..no....right??"

peter: *running away from mcgonagall* "RUN BOYS, SHE CAUGHT US, CODE RAT CHASE"

lily: "if bisexual, why attract stupid man?"

regulus: *sighs* "if pansexual, why also attract stupid man?"

marlene: "women♡"

dorcas: "women♡ and remus♡ #besties" ("did you just..say hashtag besties?")

mary: *makes banana bread* "bake bread so everyone knows you're a raging bisexual"

new generation:

albus: "oh i see, my dad defeated lord voldemort, but nooooo i still have to do homework"

scorpius: "yeah, i cant, im gay"

james sirius: "im choking on the amount of red in the common room, cant they have like...a different colour pallet?"

lily luna: "is it because im ginger?"

teddy: "sorry, i cant, my parents are dead" ("teddY NO-")

rose: "glad my mom gave me all the braincells"

hugo: "mom did not give me any braincells"

teachers:

mcgonagall: "not again"

snivilly: *sobs* "i just blinked..." *sob* "LILY USED TO BLINK"

dumblewhore: "what do you mean i cant send children to war."

trelawney: "you're a leo arent you"

filch: *mumbles something angsty about children*

flitwick: *mumbles something about it being pointless to give house points, gryffindor is gonna win anyway* *sighs in not gryffindor*

hagrid: "no, no, the book doesnt bite...frequently"

lupin: "me??? gay for sirius black??? that's weird" *nervous laughter as 'good old fashioned lover boy' plays in background*

lockhart: *picks up mirror* "hey you~"

umbitch: *something misogynistic probably*

slughorn: "im not gay for tom riddle, please stop asking, i just want to make my potions and die"

[noordledoordle]

“There are fundamental things about ourselves that we know to be true. It's important to remember those things when you find yourself in a tough situation, or you need to make a decision from the heart, but it's equally important to know that you can surprise yourself, too...”

Novel-sized post under the cut:

I don’t say much on my art posts or on Tumblr in general, but as we’re in the home stretch before SU leaves forever, I thought I’d leave a bit of commentary for the five people who may happen across this.

I started watching the original series a couple weeks after Friend Ship aired in 2015, mostly because I love MST3K’s Joel Hodgson and heard he was playing Mayor Dewey. I know it’s a common refrain that you have to sort of “endure” SU up to Mirror Gem, but that was not the case for me. The kookiness, the gentle nature of the characters, the overarching mystery of the setting - SU had me hooked right off the bat.

I loved all the characters (and I still love all the characters! Even if Ronaldo is best left as a background role and Resident Plot Oracle), but I was especially fascinated by Steven. Outwardly, he was as laid-back as his dad, and seemingly took a lot of stuff in stride, even his odd living situation. And every time a Big Reveal happened that re-contextualized the episodes prior, he would react a little bit in the moment, but never too much. Like clockwork, this pattern kept repeating itself. He would continually focus outward on the immediate problem or person in front of him, and get deeply emotional for their issues instead of his own. He’d also get emotional for surface-issue things, like Cookie Cats and snakes.

I found that odd. And intriguing. At first I figured it was just a narrative device since he was the MC and my window into the world of SU, but it happened so often that I finally got suspicious. What was it going to take for this kid to really express himself? He was so good at getting others to open up, why couldn’t he do it, too? Yes, he had times and even a couple episodes where he’d tip his hand for a bit and show something deeper, but they were oh-so-fleeting.

As I started watching the remaining S2 and S3 episodes as they came out, this pattern kept up. The layers of the world and its characters slowly unwrapped, but Steven stubbornly kept to himself and was mostly content to point the audience away from him. (Not a bad thing, narratively, as the stuff with Peridot and the latter half of S3 were wild rides!) Back then, I felt pretty alone in giving a shit about him as a character when it seemed a lot of others didn’t, but, dammit, he was my favorite little mystery regardless and I just hoped his reticence was going somewhere, especially as the show’s stakes got higher and higher.

Sweet, sweet vindication came when Mindful Education aired. The second he started giving terrible advice to Connie, I knew we were finally due to for a good look into his brain. And then came the butterfly on the sword, and well, everything else. Yeah, he’d dropped enough breadcrumbs prior to Mindful Education implying he was proper fucked up about his identity, but this was a whole loaf of fresh French bread. It was now clear beyond any shadow of a doubt that Steven was bottling up the majority of his issues and probably had been from the start.

I mean, damn, the Pink Diamond reveal? Amethyst couldn’t drag more than a couple grumpy lines out of him over pizza, and like most things Rose related, was more about his feelings towards her than what that meant for him. When he flipped out at a hologram of his mom or cried for his dad, his family wasn’t present to hear his inner thoughts. Regardless, after CYM happened and he’d resolved his identity crisis, I was content enough that they’d acknowledged his constant deflection and almost tyrannical need to help others as character flaws and would have been fine with what we got as an ending. Still, there was a lot about Steven that had been left unsaid, and I was excited to see was S6 was gonna be about...

And then the movie and SUF came along, and I swear to God I don’t even know what to do with all this vindication. Rebecca Sugar may as well have beamed into my living room and screamed “LOOK HERE ARE 20 EPISODES OF CONTENT TAILOR-MADE JUST FOR YOU.” Finally, they’re really unwrapping the mystery of our main character. They’re tearing him apart right down to the core of tragic nougat at the center of his being.

So, anyway, here we are at the lowest point of Steven’s long story. He’s burned King’s Landing. He’s crossed the Rubicon. My son, my boy, has shut out everyone he loves and has an honest-to-goodness kill count, and it can’t be justified by saying he was backed into a corner or that he was fighting to protect someone. He didn’t mean to shatter Jasper, but it’s clear he meant to hurt her.

I was always adamant that he’d never shatter anyone, but now that he has, I get why.

Steven is all about that duality. He’s human and Gem, burdened with Special Magical Destiny yet supposedly free to choose his own human path. The closer he gets to discovering his future, the deeper he has to dig into the past. He’s a cute little critter who can quietly drool on himself while napping on a road trip and also an angry teenager frustrated over a life he never had. He’s trapped between reality and facade - all those healing Rose-style powers he worked so hard to get in the original series were a cover for something older, more ancient, more destructive. And, most pertinent to Fragments - he adores soft things like romance and weddings, yet also values tough things like strength and power.

And he’s having trouble walking the tightrope between all these contradictions. When it comes to power, for example, he loves gaining new powers in order to feel useful to his family, but, in fights where he isn’t pink, he’ll always stop just short of using them to their fullest and stay on the defensive as long as he can possibly get away with it. He’ll even apologize or warn his opponent if he tries to do something big. He’ll nearly always fall on the side of softness over power, but the power is still very much there, if unused. And even up to this last episode, he’d always stop just short of going full feral even when he was pink. Part of this is because Steven is a good kiddo at heart, but also afraid of what he can do to someone unchecked.

And now, here at a bad point in Steven’s life when he’s loaded up with PTSD and cut off from his usual support, Jasper (who is also...going through some things) gives him permission to indulge in the sort of thing he’s avoided since that day he summoned a shield with an ice cream bar. She tells him to not hide a part of himself, so for just this fucking once, he lets go. The ecstasy of battle overtakes him. He doesn’t tap into the soft, rounded Rose-style powerset for even a second. No bubbles, no shield, just that raw diamond geometry. And when he gets to the moment of the KO, there’s no stopping, no break to talk things out, no “yo watch out!” He even pins her down to make damn sure she can’t get away. It’s a surprising facet of Steven we have never seen, but it’s still absolutely him, just another one of those parts he squirrels away out of view. He didn’t need that “training” at all... it was always there.

When he told Jasper he’d been holding back, he meant it. He’s been holding back for years, in so many ways.

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

Dukexiety on Halloween?

Ooh, this sounds cool!

Dukexiety, Halloween

TW: Death, blood, at least one demon

-Let’s start off with the assumption that ghosts can cross to our world on Halloween. 

-Enter Virgil and Remus, two young ghosts looking to have some fun.

-A little background information: Virgil was murdered in an unsolved case thirty years ago, and no one knows how Remus died because he has a gorier story every time. They do know that there was a fair amount of blood.

-They’re dating, but a relatively new couple (still, Remus has like 3,573 nicknames for Virgil). 

-More background information: Halloween is the time when ghosts can cross over to the land of the living, but it’s not the “ghosts and ghouls running wild” that it used to be in the old times. 

There are rules and regulations! Tickets to be purchased, tour groups to join, and gift shops to be set up in the graveyards! I went to the land of the living, and all I got was this lousy engraved lamp.

-Remy is a tour guide. He’s also a demon. He’s also 100% done with the tourism business. His job is to make sure the spirits of the dead stick to their approved areas.

-Remus and Virgil are determined to not stick to their approved areas. Halloween only comes once a year, and it’s their first time haunting the world as a couple! Virgil’s weirdly insistent on not staying with the group. But they’ve been planning for this. They execute their master plan (which also contained a fair amount of blood) and escape from the tour group into the evening.

-Now we have a main plot of Remus and Virgil haunting this small town, and a subplot of Remy trying to Stop Them.

-The couple decides to go make a haunted house more...correctly advertised. 

-The haunted house, by the way, is run by the resident troupe of theater kids, led by Roman and Janus. It’s very low budget, but everyone’s trying their best.

-Virgil clouds several rooms in darkness and lets his eyes glow from the corners. Remus tears off his own arms and waves them around. Stuff like that.

-The theater kids are all really freaked out because they’re in charge of the acts and this was not on the list. They’re all ready to abandon the project, when Janus points something out: This is AMAZING for business! The buzz of satisfied customers is spreading down the hills, attracting more people!

Finally, finally, THE DRAMA DEPARTMENT WILL GET FUNDING!!!

-However, Virgil and Remus have gotten a little bored and are ready to move onto the next thing. So off they go, laughing and still trying to reattach Remus’s arms. It’s Virgil’s turn to choose what to do, and one of the things he missed the most about being alive was going to the movies.

-The drive-in is showing Beetlejuice that night, so they go to that. 

-Logan runs the local drive-in movie theater. He can see ghosts, and he’s made some payoffs to the demonic higher ups to keep the spirits of the dead out of his business.

-But Virgil and Remus are just teenagers, and they’re being total dorks, and they’re doing that thing where you rest your hand close to the other person and the ever so slowly take it....god, it’s adorable. So, Logan turns a blind eye to it and continues making popcorn, resolving to only kick them out if the bloody one starts making a mess.

-Meanwhile, the theater kids realize that their ghosts are gone, and business is starting to decline again. Janus decides desperate times, desperate measures, and starts summoning.

Roman: Do we really need to make a Faustian bargain to get funding?

Janus: In this economy? Yeah.

-Remy had been hot on the trail of the duo, and almost caught them before they got into the drive-in. However, he feels his form being yanked across town like a worm on a string. He’s been summoned by the theater kids. 

-He doesn’t even stop to bargain because this night has been LONG and he needs COFFEE. He just kind of possesses Janus and runs back towards the drive-in.

-It’s towards the end of the movie when Remy gets back, and Virgil’s head is on Remus’s shoulder at this point. Remy’s about to catch them when Logan spots him.

-Logan doesn’t want the spirits of the dead in his drive-in. He paid to have the spirits of the dead not be in his drive-in. There is not going to be a demon in his fucking drive-in.

-He grabs some popcorn salt and smiles. There won’t be one for long.

-Fight scene! In one corner, we have “Remy without his morning caffeine”! He is full of spite! In another, we have Logan! He has worked concessions long enough to know which foods have high salt levels!

-The fight ends in a stalemate when Remy notices that the sounds of “Jump In The Line” have long faded, the credits are over, and the boys have escaped to god knows where else.

He is so fired.

-For the next thing, Remus wants to go classic and haunt a house. A house of someone sweet and a little lonely preferably.

-Patton has just finished giving out candy to the little trick-or-treaters. His house is semi-famous to Halloween candy seekers for the wonderful snacks! He closes the door and decides he’s going to go read something nice.

-Before the duo go in to scare Patton, Remus notices that Virgil seems nervous. He asks him what’s wrong, and Virgil eventually admits that he heard through the underworld grapevine that his little sister, now in her thirties, just had a kid. He really wants to get a glimpse of his niece, but he’s worried that something will go wrong or something will prevent him from getting there or-

He’s just kind of freaked out.

-They go in to scare Patton. Virgil peers with glowing eyes from corners while Remus rattles the furniture. Patton barely reacts.

-Here’s the thing about sweet and a little lonely people: a good deal of them own a lot of cats. 

-Patton is immune to eyes in the dark, loud bumps in the night, far away screams, scratches on the walls, blood stains on the carpet, heads rolling across the floors, cold spots, the fireplace suddenly roaring to life, and levitating figures (he has some weird cats).

-Remus and Virgil try more and more ridiculous things to get Patton to pay attention to them, until they’re both (figuratively) dying of laughter.

-MEANWHILE Roman arrives at the drive-in on the verge of tears. He knows that Janus was headed vaguely in this direction. He also knows that Janus is possessed oh god no this wasn’t how this night was supposed to go. Logan finds this teenager wandering around and panicking, and asks him what’s wrong. Roman tells him that that his friend (who he totally doesn’t have feelings for) is possessed and has he seen him?

-Logan has, indeed seen a possessed teenager with a ridiculous bowler hat. He just emptied popcorn salt on his head. Lo agrees to help Roman search and possibly exorcise.

-Back at the house, Virgil is literally levitating Patton and he isn’t noticing. After all, you can never know when you’re being haunted when you have cats as weird as his.

-The doorbell rings. Patton opens it, not noticing the drop to the floor, and expecting a trick-or-treater up far too late. He was not expecting a sixteen year old in a bowler hat and sunglasses to barge past him, empty a bag of coffee grounds into his mouth, and start yelling at thin air that it almost got him fired.

-Remus and Virgil say something along the lines of, “Oh shit, Remy” and run. But Remy contains coffee now, and nothing will stop him.

-They realize that they won’t be able to both escape. Remus lets himself be caught so Virgil can escape and see his sister and niece. 

-Virgil’s sister is at a Halloween celebration in the world famous corn maze. Yes, this town has a world famous corn maze. Virgil searches the maze, still equal measures worried for and in love with his boyfriend. 

-Remy (still possessing Janus) isn’t that far behind him, but he’s slowed down immensely by Remus’s superpower: being the worst travel companion ever when he wants to be. Remy oh so desperately wishes he could kill dead people and that this night was over.

-Roman and Logan track Remus and Virgil because if you can see ghosts, it’s really easy to know where Remus is, due to the near constant trail of blood. They ask some questions to Patton, who still blames everything on his cats, then keep following the trail towards the corn maze.

-Virgil eventually finds the center of the maze. And there’s his kid sister, who isn’t a kid anymore. He wonders if she kept up playing piano and who she married and what her life was like after he left it. And the baby! It’s like a loaf of bread with eyes!!!

-Virgil’s calm, for once. He starts to move toward the exit, when he bumps into Remy (Remus is clinging to Remy’s leg and lying on the ground to try and slow him down. It isn’t helping much, but it helps a little). He sprints in the opposite direction.

-Virgil’s chased by Remy, who’s chased by Roman and Logan, and they’re all very, very lost in this world famous corn maze.

-Remus is continually yelling at Remy, who tries to explain that he’ll lose his job if he doesn’t do this. Remus’s pleas are kind of effective, however, and Remy is starting to feel like a terrible person demon. 

-Virgil reaches a dead end in the maze. All parties round the corner and stand in the same dead end (except Patton, who’s at home reading his book).

-An exorcism is attempted. The exorcism fails because Remus’s blood trail ruins the salt circle.

-The exorcism gives Virgil the time to climb up a corn stalk and begin running across the corn.

-Once the exorcism fails, Roman is desperate. He takes Janus’s hands and confesses everything, asking him to come back.

-It works! Whether that’s because of the power of love or the demon feeling socially awkward is anyone’s guess.

-Remus also escapes, scales the corn, and runs across the stalks. Virgil and Remus run like the wind across a world famous corn maze.

-Remy considers catching them. He probably still could. But...he can probably think of some excuse to not get fired. Or something. He’ll think of something, and lets the boys get away.

-Virgil and Remus, grinning from adrenaline and an amazing night, walk back toward the graveyard together, hand in hand as the sun comes up and drives away the shadows.

Thanks for the prompt!

I might end up changing that names and making this an original thing one day

This was really fun to write!!!

[facepalming-since-chernobyl]

Why SC shippers are still pieces of crap, episode 249276187329432

So, Jeremy and Chris joked about MonWinn being married and here we have vultures having no lives. Or having lives, but focused on shitting on others because, guess what, they can’t be happy without it. 

Case, number 1

So what we have here? A bunch of homophobes? Last time I checked we KMs were all called like that, because we didn’t ship their precious crack ship, but here they have a problem with people shipping two guys. 

oh sure, Kara doesn’t do anything else just stares at Lena’s boobs, especially when she is TRAPPED IN A KRYPTONITE CAGE AND TORTURED BY LENA. I guess they ignore the tiny, tiny, tinyyyyyyyyy argument why we don’t ship SC - because Lena is a fucking TOXIC PIECE OF CRAP AND NO ONE SANE would ship Kara with her. As for people who scream about toxic ships and why it’s so wrong about shipping karamel or guardiancorp it’s quite amazing how they ignore their OWN FUCKING STANDARDS since season 3. So, what double standards, sweethearts???

Case 2

Here we can only pray I’m afraid, because the amount of shit these two people have in their brains is quite amazing.

Calling Mon-El “ex-slave” owner while stanning Lena is the best joke in SG fandom, too bad Scs are too dumb to realize the irony (maybe in some years, Rao knows). Also, saying that someone is a rapist, with basically zero evidences is one of the most disgusting shit you can say, but well - SC shipper, what to expec? It’s like saying that Lena killed homeless people to get the hearts she experimented on in s4, the problem is she murdered Adam and then Lex, so you can start to wonder :)

Case 3

Yeah, and they gave Lena a villain story, including enslaving people and aliens, raping (oops!) their minds, murdering them with cold blood and torturing the main hero of the show. Irony, again, especially because Mon-El created Legion in Kara’s memory and put a COMET on the Legion rings. While Lena TORTURED Kara and wanted to made her a robot. 

Case 4

The hypocrisy is that for YEARS now SCs have been moaning how disgusting we are for shipping Karamel, how we can’t do it, how much we can screw ourselves with our “ex-slave rapist white privileged fuck boy”, how Karamel is over party blah blah, while HATING ON ACTORS for basically breathing and sending them DEATH THREATS and other shit and they say we are mad because they ship Kara and Lena - look at my dead body rolling on the floor, crying from laughter. Woot, woot!

Case 5

Is Sc/Lena fandom going to call Melissa homophobe again? Call her a whore? Send her and Jeremy death threats? Try to make their career flop? Cancel almost whole SG cast for calling their ship FRIENDS like they are in the canon? Made fun of real life relationship? Because oh boy, do we really want to come back to sweet SDCC17 where SC fandom showed the most disgusting face of the fandom?

Case 6

Oh look, real representation fighters have spoken, because they know shit! Bow to the queens and kings, guys! And awwwww, they allowed us to ship mm ships! We are soooo fucking thankful! Like I don;t know, should we sent them baskets with fruits? Roses? Unicorns???? 

Once again, why we think SC is so toxic? Lena just tortured Kara with kryptonite, manipulated her for months, plotted revange, shot her with misseles, yelled at her, accused of doing shit, produced kryptonite, lied, manupualted blah, blah, I mean, relationship goals???

Case 6 continues

*Takes a deep breath*

*Laughs like a mad hyena*

*calms down*

*nope, laughs more*

Ok, so here we have the example of the hmmm, shippers who... ship two, white, so far straight, privileged, WHITE, hot, young, pretty woman, who so far are not representation, ignoring TWO canon lesbian couples (SS and AK) in favor of their delusional white bread? :)))) Also, friendly reminder that, both Alex love interests were POC characters - real representation. Plus, Lena’s two male LI were POC guys who were horribly hated by basically whole SC fandom, so what? Following this amazing logic of the idiots above, scs are racists?

And, no matter how many times I said I ship/like/support SS or AL I have heard it doesn’t matter, I’m still a homophobe, so you can’t win as long as you are not SC, huh?

But to sum up, let me say that fucking once.

SCS, do you know why we don’t ship Lena and Kara? Why a lot of us want to throw up every time we see Snowflake Luthor’s face on our screens? Why we don’t give a FLYING fuck about her privileged white ass? No, it’s not because we are homophobes - sorry to dissapoint you. You know why? It’s because of YOU :)

Yes, you and your constant fucking moaning about how Mon-El was a rapist, fuck boy, toxic piece of crap everywhere, under every SG official account and post, in our fucking tags, under ACTORS’ posts on twitter and instagram, while your fave piece of crap has done 100 times worse shit than he ever thought about doing.

You and your constant bitching about karamel being toxic and a bad example for little girls, while your fucking ship is made of a main hero of the show that you treat like a shit, becasue she “betrayed” (HA HA HA HA for repsecting the main character of the show) your precious murderous, toxic, slave owning, abusive idiot, who TORTURED, YES TORTURED Kara FOR KEEPING A SECRET.

You and your fucking “joking” about meltie, body shaming actors, shitting on every male character who is an obstacle for your shit, harassing cast, producers and writers to get your ship, bullying actors out of the show and CELEBRATING IT, bashing people, KIDS!, for liking something else than you. For doing and posting such disgusting shit that I can’t fucking believe someone with one decent cell in a body could have done that.

You know what you did? Every time I see someone with an avatar of Katie/Lena I immediatelly suspect this person is a piece of crap. Every time I see SC scene, gif or a post I’m disgusted. Not because it’s a ship made of two women, but because I associate that with a constanf fucking BULLYING and other disgusting shit I have been seeing for the past 3 years. 

And you know why we ship MonWinn? Listen, because this is going to be a surprise of your lives- because we want our fave characters to be happy, you fucking morons. Got it? Or do I need to draw you a fucking comic book, because I suspect reading is too advanced for you all.

And now you can go fuck yourselves, because this and hating on others is the only thing that keep you alive. Without it you have no fucking idea what to do. What is absolutely HILARIOUS. And the fact you think we call you delusional, because of shipping SC. Nah, you are delusional because you think that after THREE FUCKING YEARS of you harassing and molesting whole SG crew and other fandoms, you are going to get your ship.