#Henry’s just making sure he gets his paper written

[rmd-writes]

getting in early while it’s actually Sunday here for once because I have words!!!! This fic is at 3,800 words and counting:

He feels like he’s drowning in pleasure. He feels like he’s on fire. He feels like he’s fucking flying.

“Fuck, H, I’m so close. Please,” Alex begs, gritting his teeth and pressing his face into the pillow.

He doesn’t get an answer because Henry comes with a breathy laugh, painting Alex’s ass and back with his come.

“Fucking hell, Alex, you look exquisite,” Henry breathes.

“Please, please, baby. I can’t— I need—”

“Shhh, it’s alright, love. You’ve been so good for me,” Henry soothes him, switching the vibrator off and rubbing his hips.

“I’m going to take it out now, alright?”

Alex is ready to sob. He was so fucking close. Maybe Henry will get him off with his mouth instead. He nods and Henry pulls the vibrator out slowly, then lifts the edge of the towel to wipe him clean.

Henry helps him to roll onto his back, kneeling beside him.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful. There’s a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, his hair damp at the edges. He smiles softly at Alex, eyes crinkling at the corners and it makes Alex’s heart feel like it’s going to explode in his chest even though his dick is so hard that it’s throbbing.

Henry brushes his hair off his forehead, then runs his hand down Alex’s cheek, tipping his chin up and kissing him like he’s been craving it. Alex can’t help but whimper into his mouth, desperately hoping for more.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Henry says when he pulls away.

“Do you know what would be incredible right now? Your mouth on my dick.”

Henry laughs brightly. Alex wants to bottle the sound.

“Here I am trying to be sentimental and you come out with that.”

“Only one of us has come, sweetheart.”

“I’m well aware of that, love,” Henry loves his hand on Alex’s hip, running his thumb over the tattoo there.

“Maybe you should fucking do something about it,” Alex pouts.

“I’ll do something about it,” Henry says lowly and Alex’s heart skips a beat in anticipation. And then Henry stands. “Later. You’ve got a paper to write.”

Tagging everyone who tagged me for inspiration weekend/self-promo Saturday: @carlos-tk @carlos-in-glasses @three-drink-amy @lightningboltreader @orchidscript @cha-melodius @fitzherbertssmolder (art/comic wip maybe?) @alrightbuckaroo and also @welcometololaland @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @liminalmemories21 @goodways @maxbegone @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @wandering-night19 @sanjuwrites @inexplicablymine @dumbpeachjuice @tintagel-or-cockleshells @everwitch-magiks @kiwiana-writes @myheartalivewrites @sherryvalli @sunshinestrand @lizzie-bennetdarcy @lilythesilly @rosedavid and an open tag (tag me back!) 💖

[bella-goths-wife]

HERE ME OUTTT…

Platonic yandere bowers gang.

The reader is a freshman, shes just a clueless 14 year old who needs someone to guide her, why not that be the bowers gang?

Platonic yandere bowers gang x freshman reader

You weren’t particularly bad kid

Sure, you mouthed off to teachers and smoked behind the bleachers on rough days

But you also kept up with your studies and got pretty good grades

So you weren’t a bad kid, certainly not bad enough to avoid snide comments or harassment

Certainly not bad enough to catch the eyes of anyone important, or at least you thought anyway

You had met belch first

After a particularly cruel day caused by your classmates constant teasing and bullying, you had decided to hide out behind the bleachers for a quick smoke and to reevaluate your life choices

But instead of the usual quietness, you heard frustrated mumblings and the sounds of crunched up papers

You peaked your head around and saw an extremely frustrated belch sat on the ground with papers scrunched up in his hands as he attempted to solve whatever was on the paper

You had planned to just turn around and pretend you saw nothing, but fate had another plan for you as belch coincidentally looked to his left and made eye contact with you

Belch stiffened and began to plan out how to best beat you into forgetting what you saw, but before he could even rise up from the ground you spoke

“Do you want some help?” You had asked quite calmly considering the situation, and belch had noticed there was not one smidge of mockery or pity in your tone

He would have almost called your tone kind if it weren’t for your monotone delivery

Belch was stunned into a paralysed state as you calmly sat yourself next to him and read over the math problems he had been attempting

Half an hour later you had helped him complete the sheet, practically finishing it all by yourself at that point

Belch was about to threaten you into silence but you just stood up and walked away, not intimidated by him in the slightest

You, a lowly freshman, was not intimidated by him, one of the biggest and scariest people in school

Belch was so taken aback that he immediately reported his findings to Henry, who let a plot grow in his head

While the bowers gang had a few very intelligent members, they were all failing extraordinarily

All of their grades were written with a ‘do better’ message and delivered with a sigh from their teachers

So an idea popped into Henry’s head

Why should they do all of their work when they can just get someone else to do it for them

And now he knows about this genius freshman from belch, well it was almost fate in Henry’s eyes

He rounded up the boys and stalked you throughout your day at school to find a chance to corner you

They watched as you sat through your first lessons with a bored expression and they also watched as you completed the class work in less than ten minutes before just staring out the window for the rest of the time

They watched as you got relentlessly picked on by your peers and they watched as you finally grew tired enough of it to get up and leave the classroom, deciding to just skip considering you already knew what was being taught

They couldn’t help but he slightly fascinated with how you carried yourself

You were a genius, that was very much clear

But you almost seemed like you were reluctant with your intelligence, like the mere fact that you existed bored and exhausted you

Henry in his own brand of narcissism, couldn’t help but think he was the same

He was not, he was intelligent but he could never fully match up to you

But he projected the idea that you were exactly like him, that you two were two peas in a pod

Two geniuses surrounded by idiots

He finally thought he had found an equal

It was then that he decided that instead of just intimidating you into doing what they wanted, he’d make you a deal

And that’s what he did as he and his boys cornered you behind the bleachers

He made you an offer, you complete all their work and get them good grades and they’d allow you to sit with them at lunch and would keep your tormentors away

You were reluctant to accept this offer considering you understood that the boys in front of you were not good people and it was likely you wouldn’t be treated well during this agreement but you were just so tired of being picked on that you agreed anyway

So the deal was made and from that day forward you’d sit with them at lunch and would complete their work for them during the periods that you skipped, most of the time one of them joined you

Most of the group didn’t understand why Henry had extended this offer to you in the first place, didn’t understand his weird fascination with you

They all began to understand individually with time

Patrick began his obsession when he realised that he could make being in your presence a game

Patrick is a sociopath, there’s no sugar coating it because it’s just the truth

And Patrick loves to torment, he likes to manipulative and he likes to cause pain to his chosen target

And it’s only after a few times he tries to target you that he realises that you don’t succumb as easily as other people

Any words he spewed, any plots he cooked up and any sickly sweet manipulative tactics he tried to use, you would most of the time simply see through it

This made whenever Patrick finally did break you down all the more satisfying

It became a somewhat game of cat and mouse to him as he attempted to find the best ways to hurt you

But Patrick also quickly noticed he despises when someone other than him and the others tried the same methods to hurt you, that’s why he scared off all of your tormentors and bullies

He wants to be your biggest and only bully

And he wants the satisfaction of finally overcoming your intelligence and breaking you more than anything

Victor was the next one to become obsessed with you

Victor was the verbal punching bag of the group, or he thought he was considering how he denies ever acknowledging his cruelty towards belch

But with you, he finally had someone who was below him

In his eyes no matter how smart you were, your still younger than him and you clearly need guidance in how to survive in highschool

He could sweetly (meanly and roughly) condescend you and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it because you were the bottom of the food chain

You validated his want to be needed, to know better and be better than someone

He purposely ignores the fact that intelligence wise and probably in most ways your better than him

He doesn’t care as long as he can keep treating you like a clueless little lamb who wandered into the den of wolves

Belch was quickly taken with you considering he always struggled with his intelligence and you had helped him that afternoon in a calmer manner than any teacher had

But he also enjoyed that your not scared of him despite that fact you definitely should be

You spoke to him without mockery but you also didn’t mince your words, you explained things without sugar coating his failures but you also didn’t rub his loses in his face

The other question why he has you teach him instead of just having you do his work, but you help him learn and overcome his insecurities that he’s had about his intelligence for years now

Maybe that’s why he’s so protective of you, maybe that’s why he begin to view you as a sister figure

Belch doesn’t care to expand his thoughts on that subject beyond the fact that he knows it’ll be hard to ever let go of you now

Henry and you have a weird dynamic

In some ways Henry views you as somewhat of an equal, in others he views you as the bottom of the food chain considering you can hardly defend yourself

His fascination brews from the need to be what you are, he’s always wanted to be the smartest in the room and his inherent narcissism had deluded him into believing that’s true

And now he has you, someone who actually is the smartest person in the room

Sometimes deep down Henry can’t tell if he’s obsessive with you because he wants to have an equal or if he just secretly wants what you have

He also enjoys that your unafraid of speaking the truth to him

You don’t sugarcoat your words when talking to him, which is a risky move on your part but it seems to work for you for now

You’ll openly disagree with his decisions if you believe they’re wrong, and usually Henry would kill someone for disrespecting him by disagreeing

But he feels more open to listening to you, feels more inclined to taking your advice

Your almost like a right hand to Henry, that’s if he ever actually admitted that your anything to him

But you are, because he’s already threatened and hurt the people who hurt you and is actively making sure that his presence surrounds you enough so that anyone within a few feet of you will flee out of fear

Henry believes that your just like him, therefore it’s his duty to guide you to the right path

To guide you into his path

You just didn’t realise how intrusive and dangerous this guidance would become

Sorry if this didn’t make sense at all 😭🙏

I’m trying to go for a sister sage and homelander type dynamic here but it probably doesn’t work

I just had the idea and thought I’d mix it with the ask tbh

Anyway, what did you think? :)

[jtl07]

Lol, was that okay?!? How can you ask that! It was perfect!! Bea in glasses would be very, very hot 🔥 This was fun, you’re so amazing. I’ll give you a new one: camera, park, superhero

the world definitely needs more Bea in glasses lol - this was a fun one to ponder, though it ended up not as tight as usual, more of like a sketch than anything else. hope it's okay!

"- and Charlie and them started being mean but I told them The Halo really could do all those things and then! And then you won't believe what happened!"

Beatrice glances at her brother and his wife, the couple enthralled in their 7-year-old son's story. She can't help but think how different this child's life is compared to what she and her brother'd had. Is glad for it, is proud of it: that young Henry can come home from the park with a skinned knee and dirty jeans and be cared for rather than yelled at, can make a hoodie in honor of his favorite superhero and be encouraged rather than disciplined, can come home without fear, can make a mess without tears, can live as the child he's meant to be. Beatrice is proud of them, proud of their family; proud to be part of it as well.

"The Halo came! And all of them ran away because they were scared but she was really nice! She said my hoodie was perfect and she let Aunt Bea take pictures on her phone and her work camera!"

"He wanted me to wait to send you the ones on my phone," Beatrice explains as Henry continues to bounce around them, pointing to where he and The Halo had posed by the playground. "I'll email you the ones that don't end up used by the paper."

"By the way, I saw your article on that gender affirming clinic," her brother says as Henry swings from his arm, "Incredible writing."

Beatrice shrugs, shyly adjusts her glasses. "Stories like that write themselves."

"They still have to get written, Beatrice. And you write them well."

Beatrice shakes her head but pauses in her reply, head tilted as if listening to something in the distance. She returns to herself with a cough, checks her watch, edges toward the park's exit. "Ah, well, speaking of articles, I'm afraid I've another one to start. I'll see you all for dinner this weekend." She takes her leave politely but quickly. And if any of her extended family notice the strange gust of wind in her wake, none of them comment on it.

**

"Why are you always saving me?" Ava sighs hours later, cradled in Beatrice's arms as they touch down on the balcony of Beatrice's apartment. Beatrice lets her suit dematerialize once they're inside and Ava's settled on the couch.

"Well, it is my job," Beatrice says, keeping her voice light even as her body is heavy with exhaustion from the fight. She kneels down next to the couch to start unlacing Ava's boots.

"Just your job?"

Beatrice pauses, glances up at Ava's face but finds her eyes downcast, taking in the stillness of her own body. The fight had been a hard one, even with the both of them teamed up together. In the end, it had been Ava who'd saved them - saved them all, yet again - but at the cost of blowing out the halo. Beatrice knows this is temporary but she also knows the fear that Ava harbors inside: that all of this, from the hero work to the mere act of walking, is all on borrowed time.

She reaches out slowly, waits for Ava to track her hand, before she rests her palm against Ava's cheek. Feels her stuttered breath, the slow release.

"And my pleasure," Beatrice says, a truth and promise wrapped together.

Ava closes her eyes and nods, turns into the touch to press a kiss into Beatrice's palm. It isn't until Beatrice gently pulls back to return to Ava's boots that Ava speaks.

"Hey, do you think Henry can make me a hoodie too?"

Beatrice chuckles. "I'm sure he'd be delighted to."

"Fuck yeah."

[valkyrieromanoff]

GUESS THE LINE: Pedro Pascal x actress! reader

Summary: You and Pedro play Guess the line.

Tags: can be read in a platonic way or not, fluff, just friends having fun together.

A/N: My college is back and it's already killing me. I should be finishing my internship report, but here I am finishing one more imagine about Pedro Pascal. 

I hope you enjoy it, and sorry for the spelling mistakes.

“Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal”

“And I’m Y/N” 

“And this is” Your co-star began, tilting his head to face you so that you could speak together. “Is this a line from Caught Eye?”

"I confess my memory is not the best, but we'll see how it goes." You said while staring at the papers on the table. 

Pedro took the first one and looked at the paper for a moment before returning to you. “Are you ready?”

“I was born ready.” You joked.

“Born ready..” Pedro repeated laughing, as if he thought the pun was very funny. He took another look at the paper. "This one's pretty easy. You'll get it right."

“I'll get this wrong, just because you said it.” You smiled.

“You stay awake, do you hear me?! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please, come on!” Pedro read the sentence, making his tone more serious.

"It's your line, Caught Eye, Miguel." You said it, lightly tapping your head as if it were obvious. "That scene, with a lot of fake blood involved, still haunts me." You reminded.

"Really? I found it so relaxing to sit in the snow while they threw more fake blood over it." Pedro sneered, waiting for you to grab another paper.

"Come on." You muttered, after reading the sentence.

"What? You don't know where the phrase is from?" Pedro asks, tilting his head to see what's written but returning when he remembers that the point of the game was to guess. 

"I know, it's just a coincidence." You explained, reading on. “Did you really not see it? Or were you too afraid to look?”

"Um, I'm not sure." He muttered, scratching his beard, making an exaggerated expression of contemplation. "I'm kidding, it's Miguel, Caught Eye. Those are so easy."

"I said, better than I imagined." You agreed, tossing the paper aside.

Pedro laughed when he read the line on the paper. He straightened in his chair, preparing his southern accent to recite.

“How would you like to ride home a real cowboy? I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie’s out all night. So you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar.”

You laughed, because you knew the answer. In fact, everyone with tiktok knew exactly where that audio was from.

“Agent Whiskey, Kingsman: The Golden Circle.” You said, and Pedro responded with 'ding, ding, ding'. "When you released that film, did you imagine that six years later, it would bomb again because of your character?" Pedro chuckled and shook his head.

"Surely, I knew that at some point, Whiskey would be the star." He joked. "I'm kidding, I never thought that would happen. I guess it was a nice surprise that thousands of people out of nowhere liked me."

"Who doesn't like you, Pedro?" You said, as he smiled discreetly. 

You picked up a new paper.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I’m trying to care.” You read, uncertain.

You read, uncertain.

"You don't know what movie it is?" Pedro asked, noticing your confusion.

"I have no idea." 

Pedro laughed.

“Dieter, The Bubble.”

"How did you know?" You asked curiously.

"I played him." Pedro shrugged as you blushed embarrassedly.

"Well, it must be a good movie." You retorted, waiting for him to pick up the next line.

“Just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it isn't there.” Pedro read, staring at you expectantly.

"Caught eye."

"Who said that?" He asked.

"Me, I said it."

"You're right." Pedro confirmed, tossing the paper away.

"That's a good one." You commented, reading the sentence. “It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway. You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”

"It's from The Last of Us, Joel tells Henry when Sam and Ellie are playing." Peter spoke up, celebrating his answer. "I'm really good at that."

You chuckled.

Pedro stared at the paper, and shook his head thoughtfully.

"You don't know what it is?" you asked curiously.

"No, I know, I was just trying to remember when it happened." He spoke.

 “Silly girl, can’t you see the truth in front of you? You mean nothing to him, you’re just bargaining chips for his freedom.”

"I remember that one, Caught Eye, Alexander says that to me." You stated. "I remember my face getting swollen from crying so much in that scene, Mads Mikkelsen is a really great actor, he acts his part so well."

"He really is, he can convey that aura of complex and morally grey characters." Pedro agreed.

"Okay, I hope you get that one right. Otherwise we'll have problems," You played along, while Peter raised his hands in a sign of peace.

 “You give out pieces of yourself to people but never let them see the whole picture.”

“Oh, that’s Lost.”

"What?" you exclaimed confused.

"I'm kidding, Caught Eye, Anna." Pedro spoke up, moving his shoulders as if the answer was obvious. "Your character said that to mine, while they were hiding in a sewer tunnel."

"Yeah, it wasn't one of the best locations." You joked.

"Only two left." Pedro commented, choosing one. He cleared his throat, leaving his tone of voice low and murmuring. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

"Oh, it's Din Djardin." You spoke, while your co-star nodded in agreement. "I'm just unsure if it's The Mandalorian or The Book of Boba Fett, because you said that in both."

"That's right, but they put The Mandalorian in here." Pedro agreed, showing the paper to you.

"Ready for the last one?" You asked, pretending to think of which paper to pick up.

"More than ever."

"This is a tricky one." You muttered. "Everybody works for somebody."

"I feel like it's something a lot of characters in different shows and contexts could have said ." Pedro spoke up, fixing his glasses. "Can I get a hint?"

"Okay, everything I think makes it very obvious." You spoke, trying to think. "Okay, pay attention."

Pedro nodded his head in agreement.

"Cocaine, wait, can I say that?" You scolded yourself, remembering that kids could watch the interview online.

Pedro laughed, tilting his head back slightly, his eyes almost closed, crinkling at the sides. 

"Narcos, Javier Penã." He said. "That was a good line."

"Those catchphrases you use before cut the scene." You agreed. 

"Well, looks like we're out of lines." Pedro commented, looking at the empty table. "I had a lot of fun guessing which ones belonged to whom."

"You were great at the game." You praised him.

"You got them all right, I think we make a good team." Pedro spoke, stretching his arms out for you to clap hands.

"Yeah, we are." You agreed, slapping his hand, a slight noise sounding. 

You both laughed.

[cha-melodius]

HAPPY 100 FICS / 1000 KUDOS DARLING

Could I please get Firstprince at some sort of pet store?

💜💜💜💜

(HAPPY BIRTHDAY CRICKET!!!! This is the fill for your fandom fest request of firstprince at a pet store. Thank you for being such an excellent doc gremlin and wonderful friend, I hope this fic brightens your day!!)

The Hazards of Unsolicited Toy Advice

(T, 2.2k, read it below or on AO3)

There’s a staggeringly gorgeous man loitering by a display of chew toys.

The sight of him momentarily brings Henry to a complete halt, which confuses David. He reaches the end of his lead and looks back at Henry with his head tilted, clearly wondering what could have interrupted their usual pilgrimage to the elaborate collection of bones, pigs’ ears, and various treats that make this store worth going out of their way to visit. Unfortunately for David, Henry needs a moment. He knows he’s being kind of weird, but surely he can be forgiven. It’s not every day one comes across the personification of pure sunlight in a pet store.

The man doesn’t seem to notice Henry’s watching, thankfully. His full lips pout thoughtfully as he pokes idly at a few toys, picking them up and putting them down again without much intention. A few dark curls fall forward over his forehead as he props one hand on his devastatingly narrow waist, perfectly emphasized by the way his tailored button-down is tucked into navy chinos that hug a truly perfect arse.

David chuffs softly, pulling Henry out of his reverie. Right. The beautiful man looks like he could use some decision-making assistance, perhaps. Henry will take whatever tiny opening he can get.

“If you need some advice on toys, I have some experience,” Henry said, only realizing the way it sounds once the words are out of his mouth.

Unfortunately, the beautiful man does not miss the innuendo. He looks up at Henry, warm brown eyes fringed by the longest eyelashes Henry’s ever seen flashing with mirth as his face breaks into a grin and, oh, if Henry was in trouble before, it was nothing on this. The man’s entire face lights up, nearly blinding in its brilliance, and Henry’s stomach swoops.

“Do you, now?” the man returns as his lips settle into a smirk. He looks Henry up and down, and Henry doesn’t think he’s imagining the interest in his expression.

Henry’s cheeks are heating, but he holds the man’s gaze. “Yes. David is a bit of a connoisseur.”

The man’s eyebrows shoot upward. “David? Is that your…”

“My dog, of course,” Henry says, gesturing toward where David is sitting obediently at his feet. “He’s got quite the collection.”

“Dog named David, ok,” the man mutters, laughing a little to himself. “Does he have a favorite?”

Henry reaches out and plucks a rubber toy shaped like a duck and hands it to the man. “This one is probably his first choice.” At his feet, David makes a noise of interest, and Henry glances down at him. “You have this one at home, Davey.”

The man turns the toy over in his hands, but before he can say anything an employee walks up and hands him a plain brown paper bag with the top stapled shut and some numbers written on the side.

“Anything else, sir?” she asks.

“No, that’s it. Thanks,” the man says, then looks at Henry and lifts up the duck. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Yes, well, if you need any further toy suggestions, we’re here regularly,” Henry manages to say, and it sounds like just as much of a come-on as he means it to.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the man replies, smirking, then heads off to the front of the store.

~~~~~

Henry runs into the beautiful man again a couple weeks later, standing in the same place as last time. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans today with his curls combed and tamed, and is no less stunning for it (though Henry’s always been partial to curls). Today, Henry is slightly more prepared; he’s thought about—ok, fantasized about—running into the man again. This time he’s getting a name, at the very least.

“So, was it a success?” he asks as he walks up to the man. Warmth blooms in his chest at the look of recognition that takes over the man’s face, though it’s quickly followed by a furrowed brow.

“What?”

“The toy. Did your dog like it?”

“Oh. Yeah, definitely,” the man says, bobbing his head a little. “Any other suggestions?”

Henry lets his gaze skim over the toys until he sees the plush strawberry David’s been favoring lately and picks it up, but the man shakes his head apologetically. “No soft toys.”

“A penchant for shredding them apart?” Henry guesses.

“Hard to keep clean,” he says, wrinkling his nose.

“Always an important consideration for any toy,” Henry agrees sagely, only for the man to raise his eyebrows again. It seems to happen with alarming regularity. As does the way Henry’s cheeks heat. He clears his throat and picks up a rubber toy with numerous large holes punched through it. “What about something like this? You can put treats in these for a bit of a challenge.”

The man looks at the toy consideringly before taking it from Henry. “That one could work.”

“I’m Henry, by the way.”

The man opens his mouth, only to be interrupted by another employee with a brown paper bag. After accepting it, he looks back at Henry. “Well, thanks again, Henry,” he says with a little wave, leaving Henry decidedly unsatisfied with the outcome of this encounter.

~~~~~

“The toy with the holes was a hit.” 

Henry turns to see the beautiful man approaching him this time. He’s already got his brown paper bag clutched in one hand this time, and his other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans.

“That’s good to hear,” Henry replies, smiling. At his feet, David starts wagging his tail, apparently having by now decided that the man is a friend. “You’re back again.”

“Turns out you have good taste in toys,” the man says, shrugging a little.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” Henry says without really thinking about it, and the eyebrows shoot up again. Henry coughs. “I mean, dog toys.”

He does not mean dog toys.

The man grins wickedly, like he is not fooled. “Well, be that as it may, I thought I might try my luck a third time.”

Henry thinks that it’s about time that he tried his luck, actually. “How about, you tell me your name, and I’ll give you another suggestion,” he counters.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware this toy advice came at a price.”

“Too steep for you?”

“Nah, that’s a bargain, sweetheart,” the man replies. “I’m Alex.”

“Alex,” Henry echoes softly, tasting the name on his tongue, and Alex’s lips part slightly. “And what about your dog?”

It seems to take Alex a moment to parse his question. “Oh, Miss Piggy. She came with the name. I adopted her from a friend of a friend that was trying to get rid of her.”

“That was good of you.”

Alex shrugs. “She’s low maintenance, and it’s kind of nice to talk to someone else in my empty apartment. Not that she talks back.”

Henry tries to suppress the little thrill of hope at the fact that Alex doesn’t live with anyone. “I understand,” he says. “David isn’t much of a conversationalist, but he’s an excellent listener.”

“How long have you had him?”

“Since he was a puppy.”

“So you chose the name David,” Alex says, a touch incredulously.

“I did,” Henry confirms. “It’s after Bowie.”

Alex blinks, like he’s re-evaluating something. “Oh. That’s cool.” He crouches down, which of course makes David start squirming in desire to get to Alex, but he stays sitting next to Henry’s feet. “He’s very well-behaved. Can I pet him?”

“He’d like that.”

Alex reaches a hand out to scratch behind David’s ears, which David immediately presses into, his tail thumping rapidly on the floor. “Who’s a good boy?” Alex coos, and Henry honestly counts himself lucky that Alex’s soft smile is directed at David instead of him; he might not survive it. But then Alex looks up at him in his current position practically kneeling on the floor, and Henry comes very close to shuffling off this mortal coil right then and there anyway.

“So,” Alex says as he stands again, brushing his hands off on his trousers, “what kind of toy advice do I get for my name?”

Henry very nearly suggests some quite different toy advice in response to that question, but manages to bring his brain back online at the last second. “Well,” he says, picking up a tube-shaped rubber toy, “if she liked the treat toy, then this one is a similar idea.” He holds it out to Alex, but he doesn’t let go when Alex grabs the other end. “I have another request.”

The eyebrows go again. “This is an expensive toy.”

Henry shakes his head. “Not a price. But I’d very much like to take you to dinner, if you’d be interested.”

The dimple in Alex’s cheek deepens and he drops his gaze before looking up at Henry through his eyelashes. Christ, but this man is lethal.

“I’m interested.”

~~~~~

Alex tugs Henry in by the front of his jacket as he backs up against the front door to his flat, and Henry wastes no time before sealing their mouths together again. At the end of their first date, Alex had dropped him off outside his building and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Henry’s mouth; it had been utterly lovely, but Henry has to admit he’s very much enjoying this, the conclusion to their second date. Alex’s tongue in his mouth and the cut of his teeth, Alex’s hands grabbing onto his waist, Alex’s thigh pressing in between his.

“You wanna come in, baby?” Alex asks in the gaps between their kisses.

The endearment makes something warm settle in his gut, and he grins against Alex’s lips. “Thought you’d never ask, love.”

They stumble through the door, and despite the fact that Alex has now attached himself to Henry’s throat, Henry finds himself distracted, listening for the tell-tale sound of claws on the hardwood. Nothing comes, though. Perhaps Miss Piggy is a heavy sleeper?

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, clearly noticing his inattention.

“Sorry,” Henry says, shaking his head. “I was expecting your dog.”

For some reason, that makes Alex look down and bite his lip, and when he finally meets Henry’s eyes again, he looks decidedly sheepish. “I, um. Don’t have a dog.”

Henry blinks at him. Opens and closes his mouth. “You don’t?”

Alex shakes his head. “No.”

“So you let me suggest you dog toys…”

“Because when a ridiculously hot guy wants to talk to you about dog toys, you talk about dog toys,” Alex says, a little helplessly.

It’s honestly hard to be anything but insanely flattered, but he still doesn’t quite understand. “So all of that about adopting Miss Piggy, and the toy reviews… it was all made up?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t,” Alex says, nonsensically. Then he takes Henry by the hand and leads him into the living room, where there’s a terrarium set up along one wall. Amongst the water dish and a fake-rock hut, Henry spots the duck, and the toy with the holes, and the tube, which has the head and tail of a small brown-and-tan-patterned snake sticking out of one end. “Miss Piggy is a snake,” Alex tells him. “A western hognose, to be specific. Hence the name, I guess. I was in the pet store buying frozen mice for her the times I saw you. I did adopt her from a friend of a friend who didn’t want her anymore, and she does like the toys, as you can see.”

Henry bends down to get a closer look at the snake, who has big eyes and a little turned-up snout. “I never thought a snake could be cute,” he says, unaccountably and unexpectedly charmed by the small creature.

“She’s a drama queen, is what she is,” Alex says. When Henry looks at him questioningly, he explains, “When they feel threatened, they either pretend to be a viper or play dead. Turn over onto their back, tongue hanging out and everything. She hasn’t done that since right after I got her, though. I think she’s happier here.”

Alex gets a kind of soft, fond smile on his face as he talks about the snake, and Henry can’t help but be ridiculously charmed by that, too. He takes a step closer to Alex and slips his arms around his waist, pulling him in and pressing a kiss to his temple, and Alex’s smile widens.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“You care for her,” Henry says simply. “It’s endearing.”

“Of course I do,” Alex replies. “How could you not love that face?”

“Mm,” Henry hums in agreement. “I suppose this means we don’t have to worry about her waking us early in the morning to go outside.”

Alex’s eyes sparkle as he turns in Henry’s arms, looping his own around Henry’s shoulders. “You planning on spending the night, baby? What about David?”

“Is it terribly forward if I said I already arranged to have someone take care of him tonight?” Henry asks, biting his lower lip.

“Not any more than what I was gonna ask you,” Alex says, smirking as his fingers play idly with a flippy piece of Henry’s hair.

“Which is?”

“Well, y’know, I wanted some advice.” He leans in close, until his lips are brushing the angle of Henry’s jaw, and murmurs, “On a different kind of toy.”

Henry doesn’t need to be asked twice.

[affectionatelyrs]

WIP Wednesday

FRIENDS! HAPPY WEDNESDAY! I've been... not very active on here lately. I won't divulge my life troubles to y'all but I miss all of you greatly but I'm back (I think) and better than ever (that might be a lie) to give y'all some content from a fic that I've been PLANNING SINCE SEPTEMBER. It's been languishing as an outline for a while and I finally don't have any excuses to not write it... so here we are

Thank you to @anincompletelist @inexplicablymine @firenati0n @wordsofhoneydew @ships-to-sail @kiwiana-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @getmehighonmagic for the tags today! :)

SO WITH THAT BEING SAID... here's a snippet from what I'm for now calling Walk and Talk! :) It's a college AU wherein there's minimal plot just vibes but also not uhhhh Alex and Henry walking out of class together every day and getting to know each other through it all but also Alex is like the literal fucking sun absolute sunshine boy and Henry is so gone it’s not funny (I quite honestly don't know how else to explain this except I consider it to be written in an IRL epistolary style maybe idk stop asking me questions I'm just a girl)

Henry watches the boy maneuver his way through the seats with rapt attention, even after everyone has turned their own back toward the projector screen, which confuses Henry to no end. This boy is much more interesting to watch. Much more beautiful, too—Christ. And then, inexplicably, he plops down into the seat right next to Henry’s, despite there being over a dozen other open ones that wouldn’t require anyone’s personal space to be invaded. Not that Henry particularly minds this, though. He tries to pretend that he isn’t overtly staring by acting as though he is taking very intense, very important notes when he realizes that he doesn’t actually have a pen out, and that his hands are merely hovering over the table while he gazes intensely at a starkly, obviously blank piece of paper. Henry blinks once, twice, before hearing a quiet huff of laughter from beside him. Then, there’s a hot pink pen being slid between his fingers, and Henry has to use his higher-brain powers to make sure he holds onto it, lest it go rolling across the floor and straight into jegging-girl’s coffee spill. Before Henry can get out any words of gratitude, the boy winks at him, whispers, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, babe,” and then immediately, emphatically shoots his hand up to answer one of the professor’s questions. He does a small, triumphant nod upon getting it right, leaving Henry to wonder when he had any time to pay attention to the material to make such an accomplishment possible.

OPEN TAG but also tagging some lovely people under the cut

@happiness-of-the-pursuit @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged @everwitch-magiks @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @anchoredarchangel @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @indomitable-love @orchidscript @dumbpeachjuice @daisymae-12 @gayrootvegetable @leojfitz @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @cultofsappho @cricketnationrise @nocoastposts @myheartalivewrites @matherines @cha-melodius and @onward--upward

[brinkworth]

I heard it was your birthday @heartofspells, so I wrote you a little crack fic as a gift. (curse?) Featuring Remus, who is just trying to print his smutty fanfiction and runs into printer trouble. Happy Birthday!

Tech Support

Remus can pinpoint the exact moment his bad luck started. He’d been working on a project, printing some of his favourite fanfiction. He liked the story so much that he wanted to put a physical copy on his shelf.

It was all going smoothly at first, his printer churning out pages, all with perfectly crisp black letters printed neatly in rows. He clapped his hands in celebration. At this rate, this project would be done in record time.

That’s exactly when the bad luck starts. The printer makes an alarming noise; the paper caught half in the printer and half out. After several angry beeps, the screen reads ‘Error - printer jammed. Please clear printer and try again.’

When he opens the machine, it’s full of paper jammed into every nook and cranny. Places he didn’t know paper could even go in a printer. The printer seems to fight him as he removes it. He has to press a foot against the desk for leverage to pull out a particularly stubborn piece and the printer makes an awful grinding noise. It’s later that he sees the warning message that says, ‘Do not remove paper by pulling in this direction.’

“Oops.”

Several hours later, he’s sitting next to a printer that no longer feeds paper at all as tech support tells him they’ll mail him a new one. It should be there in 7-10 business days.

This just won’t do. Remus doesn’t want to wait that long, so he makes a trek to the store and buys a new printer. Now he’ll have two, but they’re different. And he prints a lot, so it’s worth it. Only upon getting it home, the printer won’t print anything legibly. It all comes out looking like a copy of a copy of a copy. Remus spends hours adjusting settings and test printing.

In the end, he’s sitting next to a stack of badly printed pages of his favourite smutty fanfiction when he’s back on the phone with tech support.

“Hello, thank you for calling The Printer Company. My name is Sirius. How can I help you?”

“Er- yes, hello, I just purchased a new printer and I’m having trouble with the quality.”

Sirius is very nice and seems committed to fixing the problem. He has Remus test different settings and try again several times. After 45 minutes on the phone, though, they’ve accomplished nothing. It all looks the same, and Sirius is now just as frustrated as Remus.

“Will you send me a few photos of your printed pages? One good one from your old printer and one from your new printer,” Sirius asks. “It will help me see what the problem is, and I can share them with my supervisor, who might have an idea.”

“Oh - er - sure, yeah.” Remus replies, kicking himself immediately. He should have just hung up.

He suddenly feels too hot. He begins to root frantically through his stack of papers, to find ones that might be appropriate to send.

“Oh God, definitely not that one.” He thinks, more than once.

A few awkward minutes later, he’s found two pages that look fairly clean, though by the character names, it will be clear what this is, if Sirius has ever read one of the most popular book series ever written. WHY couldn’t these characters be named something normal? Like George and Henry…

He sends the photos and chews on his thumbnail as he waits for Sirius’ response.

“Oh, I see them right here,” Sirius says eventually. There’s a shuffling noise and Remus thinks he hears Sirius snort.

Sirius hums as if he’s studying them carefully. “I’m afraid I’m having a hard time telling these two apart...”

How is that possible? Remus wonders. They are so starkly different.

“I’m just going to read these out loud to verify which is which,” Sirius says. And Remus swears he can hear the man smirk through the phone.

Remus’ eyes widen. “Oh, of course, sure,” he blurts out and then kicks himself again.

As Sirius reads, Remus wants to crawl into a hole and die. The man takes his time, drawing it out, and reading more than must be necessary for what he needs.

“Yes, yeah, you’ve got that right,” Remus says in the end, just ready to be done with this.

Another 30 minutes later, Sirius has walked him through how to fix the printer and Remus is anxious to hang up before he can embarrass himself further.

“Thanks so much,” Remus says, his finger hovering over the end call button.

“Happy to help,” Sirius says. “And you have good taste, Remus.”

Remus’ head jerks back in surprise. “Sorry?”

“I’m partial to Heartofspells’ work myself, but this is good too.”

Remus is stunned into silence for a few moments before replying weakly. “Oh.”

“Have a good day, and feel free to ask for me personally if you need help again in the future.”

Remus bit back a smile. Maybe his luck wasn’t so bad after all.

[edward-hydes-letters]

I just- I don't understand. You're right, I won't stop until I know Henry is safe. If he's keeping such a big secret that could supposedly get him sent to Bethlem, I need to know. I would hope to God that Henry knows for certain I would never tell anyone. I do care about the man, with far more emotion than you give me credit for, Hyde.

However, I believe you forget how long I've known him for. He's been boarding himself up for years. For God's sake, he kept it a secret when he used a soup spoon instead of a dinner spoon in his private quarters. All because he thought it was 'disastrously unbecoming' of him to do so.

The fact is, Henry frets over little things and causes them to be much bigger than what they actually are. Whatever Henry has catastrophised to you, I'm sure it's not nearly as bad as he's made it out to be.

And... if it is...?

(There's a scribbled out mess of reassurances- seemingly mostly addressed to Robert himself. Then, one final reassurance, written confident and clear as day.)

I will still be there.

-Dr. Robert Lanyon

(…there are droplets on the page. They make it hard to read what’s written, but you can still it make out…)

…if you mean that, Lanyon, if you well and truly mean that, then there’s no point in keeping it from you. You’d just keep coming back, if not to me, then to Jekyll-

(The middle of the page is riddled with scratches and marks, like the signs of a struggle. Like someone was trying to keep the writer from finishing the letter- however, it didn’t seem to work…)

If you turn me over to the police for arson, you’ll be turning over Jekyll to the same cell. If you wish for me to rot in hell, then you would condemn him to an identical pire-

(The struggling gets harder, the page is ripped around the edges, and the droplets get larger-)

And if Henry gets thrown into Bethlem, then I won’t be far behind.

(-the bottom the the page is barely legible, so many scratches litter the page it’s almost impossible to make out any words… somehow, you can make out an address…)

This isn’t something to be said over parchment, though. Meet me at my house in Soho an hour till dawn. We have something to show you.

(The only reason you can make out the last sentences is because the words were pierced into the paper, dripping ink onto the water stains…)

You better not have lied to me, Robert. It’s a mistake no man makes twice.

-Mr. Edward Hyde

(…there’s writing in what seems to be cursive, but you can’t make it out…)

[lostheaventales]

Garden of Eden PT.3

Description: Vito receives the results from the blood test. The results were not what he expected.

Relationship: Vito Scaletta x Henry Tomasino

⚠️Warning⚠️: Discussion of Abortion

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A white envelope sat solemnly between his fingers. It was unopened. Even though he anticipated for the results, constantly checking the mail every morning, Vito found it hard to open. Joe was not home when he had woke this morning. He was going to be alone when discovering this, which he preferred in case he needed to freak out. Him delaying the discovery wasn’t going to get rid of the ailment that was torturing him. That would have defeated the point of going to the doctor anyways.

After taking a few deep breaths, he tore open the envelope, ready to take on whatever information it held. Inside was a folded letter. He unfolded it. Hie eyes scanned the words. It listed all the different diseases and such that the blood test can detect. Each had a negative result. Vito was starting to think nothing was wrong with him when he made it to the end of the list. Pregnancy was the last on the list. “POSITIVE” in bold, capitalized letters written next to it.

“No, fuck, this can’t be,” He exclaimed.

Having no second thoughts, he grabbed his car keys and rushed to the clinic. There had to be a mistake. He couldn’t be pregnant. Something had to be tampered with, either the blood he gave or whoever typed the paper put in false results. Vito needed to know who was responsible for this clear error.

He didn’t bother to park his car straight upon arriving to the clinic. Vito rushed inside and approached the lady behind the counter.

“May I speak with Dr. Asante please?” Vito asked.

“I’m sorry. You need to make an appointment before speaking with the doctor,” the lady informed.

He huffed in annoyance. As he was beginning to walk away, he noticed that Dr. Asante walked in behind the lady, getting something out of the file cabinet. Vito called out to him. He seemed to notice his Vito’s anxious demeanor. A frown appeared on his face. He made his way to him.

“What’s wrong, Vito?” Dr. Asante asked, placing a soothing hand on his back.

“I-I-It has to be wrong.” Vito stuttered out.

“Come on, let’s go to my office so we could have more privacy.”

The doctor grabbed his arm and guided him to a small room that wasn’t far down the hall. Certificates were hung on the wall. Pictures of his family joined them along with some adorning the desk. Vito sat on a chair across from said desk.

“Now, what seems to be the problem?” He asked.

“My blood test. It says that I’m pregnant.” Vito blurted, anger lining his tone.

“I’m aware of that.”

“But, I can’t be. Something must be wrong.”

“Did you have any sexual relations that included penetration in the past month or so?”

The night at the cathouse sprung to mind. Him and Henry in the throes of passion and intimacy. Too much in the throes of passion that they forgot about the consequences of such activities. They were fucked. Big time. There would be no way to hide this. Doing dangerous jobs were way more riskier to not just him, but the life going within him.

“I-I-I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,” Vito apologized, getting up from the chair.

“It’s alright, Vito. You’re young. It’s very normal to be scared about something like this. If you want, we could abort the pregnancy.”

“You can?”

“Yes, but I’m not going to do it now. You’re clearly not in the right headspace to make such a permanent decision. Come back in a week if you’re sure you want to take that step.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time he made it home from the clinic, Joe had came back. He was sitting on the couch, listening to the radio and drinking a beer. The envelope had been moved from the last place he set it before leaving. This meant that Joe must’ve read it or, at least, examined the envelope before putting it back on the table.

Joe placed the beer on the coffee table. “How you doing, Vito? Or should I say, Papa?” He laughed afterwards.

Vito fake laughed with him. On the inside, he wanted to punch himself and Joe in the face. He cowered at Joe calling him “Papa”. The idea of being a parent horrified him. A baby was going to be a lot of work, especially considering the path he was taking in life. It was too dangerous for such a fragile being.

“I’m going to be an uncle. This is amazing.” Joe celebrated, standing from the couch.

“Don’t get used to the idea. I’m getting rid of it next week.” Vito searched the fridge for some food. There were some sandwiches he had prepared earlier. He retrieved the plate with a cola and sat the dining table.

Joe sat next to him. “Woah, woah, are you even sure that’s what you’re going to do?”

Vito pondered for a second. He wanted to keep the baby. Taking into account that he just paid a huge debt and had no money left, the identity of the father, and he’s slumbering on his best friend’s couch, a baby wouldn’t be ideal at the moment. His mother would love to have a grandchild so the matter of what she would think wasn’t a factor of his decision.

“Yeah. If you fucking look around, our lives is no place for a baby.” Vito took a bite of the ham sandwich.

“I guess you’re right. Does the father know? Who even is the father?” Joe asked, brows quirking.

Vito almost choked on his food when the question was out in the air. Joe patted his back as he coughed, struggling to get the bits of food dislodged from his throat. He took a big gulp of the cola to help.

“You alright, pal?” Joe rubbed his back when the coughing died down.

“Be careful when asking those kind of questions,” he said.

“What? I just wanted to know who he is. You’re acting like he’s the fucking governor.”

“Maybe he is. What are you going to do about it?”

“Cut his dick off.”

“That’s exactly why I ain’t telling you.”

Joe sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to let up. He got another beer out of the fridge and returned to the couch. Vito finished the sandwich. He put the crumb-covered plate in the sink where it was going to sit until one of them decided to do the dishes. Usually at this time, he would have a beer or go to the bar. That was obviously not going to be part of his routine for the next nine months. Instead, he grabbed another cola. At least, he was only going to have to deal with this for a week.

[sparks-olivarpente]

Why I liked the Mindflayer better

This starts with "I prefer the Mindflayer over Vecna and that bothers me because I need to be impressed by the bad guy" and ends… It doesn't go anywhere actually. I tried to put my thoughts on paper and they ended up all over the place. Please don't read (thanks if you do!)

The Mindflayer works well as a metaphor of the unknown within us. Little Will can't yet face some stuff within himself, it appears to him as that huge unknowable shadow and Will doesn't know if he himself is the monster or what. This, I can relate to (I litterally used to believe there was an eldritch monster inside of me when I was 13)

But now that the monster has taken shape (S3) and became a person (S4)? He can't work as a metaphor anymore (to me, maybe that works for others. Let me know if it does <3). Now he's just some guy! Who talks too much. There's nothing hidden about him anymore (or maybe there is and that's the whole point. I know there are theories out there about things not being what they seem about Henry's story. Maybe he wasn't truthfull. A lot of S4 was about lying after all, it would make sense. He wants us/the Party to believe he's the bad guy and he's really still hidding behind that)

So, Henry. I understand little Henry up to a point (his view of time, feeling stuck, his loneliness, his disconnection, wanting to take control) but I don't see how that leads to wanting to destroy everything? in his place I'd just end up badly depressed. and wanting to escape. Maybe… if this is about what happens when a disconnected person meets an horror from another dimension, we still miss part of the story? or I just need to watch S4 again.

Our own personal dragons… they're only big scary monsters when we can't face them. Once we do, they become little lost puppies, or screaming toddlers. Not really scary. Where am I going with that… I guess, I can't find another human scary anymore (I mean, after spending most of my life meeting my own dragons) We're all just afraid and we need a hug or something. Henry looks like he has fallen into some deep internal black hole and a hug won't be enough but still. I can't be afraid of him. Annoyed, angry, but not impressed.

Although… being stuck forever in Henry's mindspace is pretty scary. Someone gets Max out of here ;_; It's like Henry created his own hell that's ended up worse than what he was afraid of (time, routine, lie) Time IS scary but… the UD or Henry's mindspace, that seems kind of stuck forever at ONE moment in time? It is worse. It can't evolve, it can't get better (I used to be afraid and angry about time and… just, reality as it is, until I ended up with the curious discovery that time can be seen as a gift of love but getting off topic) (just… I can see Henry being stuck in one of those dark places I was stuck in, only worse)

Having written that I think what I need is, maybe, a deeper understanding of Henry's fears? Now that the monster is a person, I need to see where he is stuck (I'm not sure about that part, I feel I'm contradicting myself, because I find people I can't understand at all, such as Lonnie or Angela, scarier. I really need to watch S4 again and see what really bother me with that guy) (maybe I just don't like Vecna because he looks ridiculous) If he's just the bad bad guy our team needs to kill to put the world back in order… what's the point? (I don't really think that will happen in S5. I don't have a clue what will happen in S5)

This… did not really go anywhere but then I warned you ^^

<3

[sarahjswift]

Lovebite - IWHAIWSA Chapter 3

Heyyyy here's another chapter for you! It's currently Thursday but I think this should be posted on Friday. The day you are seeing this is my last day of school and I'm very excited!

I hope you all are enjoying this series! I'm very proud of myself because these chapters are longer and I have a couple already written and ready to post. I also am keeping up Twin Wounds, so I'm just doing it all XD

Next week is the start of my summer vacation, but it shouldn't affect the upload schedule too much, but there's always that warning.

Thank you all for your support <3

Warnings: Language, Light Smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Tag List <3: @backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @renxzs, @blue-bird17, and @autumnbabylon! Thanks for your support <33333

enjoyyyyy!!! :D

__

“You made out with a stranger who is Eve’s best friends’ dad?” Lysandra gasped with delight. 

Aelin glared at her reflection as if it were Lysandra’s face, forcefully massaging her face with sunscreen. “We didn’t make out. It was one kiss.” 

“One very hot kiss, it seems,” her friend giggled. “I mean, he seems amazing. Do you have pics?”

“Uhm, yes,” Aelin confessed. “He sent me a selfie and I may or may not have downloaded it to my phone.” 

“Oh my Gods!” Aelin winced as her friend’s squeal filled the air - loud and proud, even on speakerphone. “Please tell me it was, like, a shirtless selfie. Or no, no, a mirror shot! No - both!” 

“It was a selfie with him and his kids,” Aelin said matter-of-factly. She dotted concealer under her eyes and surveyed herself in the mirror, checking for any blemishes, and-

“Oh my fucking Gods.” 

“What? What is it?” Lysandra squawked, but Aelin was too busy gaping in horror at the purple spot on her neck. 

“I have a damn hickey!” Aelin wailed, then clamped a hand to her mouth. Eve was watching Spongebob, but you could never be too sure with her. 

“Holy shit, this just keeps getting better and better!”

“Not if you’re living it!” Aelin protested, frantically dabbing concealer onto the very obvious love bite on her neck. 

“Can I see? Send a photo!” 

“Uh, no. It’s, like…very obvious.”

“Gods, how much did he kiss you?”

“I have no idea,” Aelin sighed. Luckily, the mark was covered. She sprayed setting spray onto her neck and prayed that her concealer would stick. 

↜↝

Rowan woke up in the morning with two screaming children, a messy kitchen, and a happy heart. 

He replayed the kiss over and over again in his mind, painting it golden. Even when Lilly knocked over her glass of OJ, he just smiled and wiped it up with a wet paper towel. 

The kids wanted to go to the pool and as they reached it, Rowan found himself searching the room for a certain mother. Unfortunately Aelin wasn’t there, and Rowan settled himself into a pool chair with a sigh, watching his children splash around in the shallow end. 

Rowan: Hey

Aelin: Hello good sir

Aelin: how are you 

Rowan: Good, the kids are at the pool today. 

He hesitated before deciding to go for it. 

Rowan: Wish you were here though. 

Aelin: *typing*

Aelin: 💗

__

“Can we hang out with Eve today, Dad? Please?” 

Rowan looked at his children, pleading up at him. Hold your ground, he thought. Hold it, hold it, hold-

“I’ll text her mom.” 

An hour later, Rowan was smiling faintly to himself as Aelin and Eve descended across the parking lot to the playground. Eve ran toward Henri and Lilly and the three immediately skipped to the playground, giggling. Rowan took a deep breath as Aelin walked up to him, reminding himself to calm down. 

She looked amazing as usual in a simple white crop top and a vibrant, flowing green skirt. Stylish sunglasses rested on her head and her golden hair was tucked into a braid. Her top and skirt proudly displayed her muscled shoulders, arms and legs and he enjoyed the view  - of those and other beautiful parts of her - before snapping his eyes up to her. 

“Hello,” she said, a serpine’s smile curving on her lips. She walked up close to him and placed a warm hand on his arm, the only thing separating their skin the thin fabric of his T-shirt. 

“Hey.” Rowan’s voice was lower than usual, and he had eyes only for Aelin as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear. His eyes closed briefly as he felt her hot breath on his skin, wanting it everywhere- 

“You may or may not have given me a hickey.”

With a start, Rowan broke from his reveries and whipped his head around to gape at Aelin. Her eyes were dancing and her grin stretched wider as she tapped a finger against her neck. “I guess you were kissing me a bit too hard.”

“I-Gods, Aelin, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Her clear laughter rang through the air, making Rowan smile. He couldn’t help it. “It’s funny. I did have a bit of a panic attack this morning, though. That’s why we didn’t go to the pool.” 

Rowan laughed. “What did Eve have to say about that?”

She shrugged. “She was great - we went on a little trail. What about you guys?”

“The pool and now this, after they begged all morning. It’s honestly adorable how much the kids love Eve already.” 

Aelin beamed, and he knew as a parent she was proud. “I’m afraid I’m just as bad about a certain father.”

↜↝

Rowan was so handsome she couldn’t stand it, and the urges to grab his hand, touch his shoulder, just to be near him, overcame Aelin as their families went to get Hawaiian Ice. The way he was with his kids did nothing but melt her heart, and Eve’s obvious adoration of the Whitethorn kids was the cherry on top. 

Soon the sun was setting, and they walked through the resort admiring the beautiful dusk sky. The children were skipping ahead of Rowan and Aelin while they hung back, talking softly, when Eve rounded and walked back to her mother. 

“Mommy, Lilly and Henri said that we could come over and have a sleepover!” she squeaked, excitement lit up in her blue-gold eyes. Her face was flushed and strands of her hair were poking up from her head. She looked insane, and Aelin had never loved anything more. 

“Did they really? Well unfortunately it’s not up to them,” Aelin reminded her daughter gently, praying this wouldn’t get awkward. To her dismay, Eve’s face crumpled and she slumped, practically dragging her feet as she walked back over to her friends. The two parents watched as her daughter informed the other kids of the incident and they immediately whirled around, protest lining their faces. 

“Please, Dad? C’mon, we want Eve to sleep over!” Lilly cried, hanging onto Rowan’s hand. Henri grabbed his other and looked up at his father pleadingly. 

Aelin cringed and turned to her companion, opening her mouth to apologize, when he said; “If Aelin is okay with it, I’m happy to have them over.” 

The children stared at him for a second and then erupted, cheering. They were so busy celebrating they didn’t notice the word change; them - but Aelin did. 

“Them?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Rowan looked sheepish and he shrugged. 

“I mean, why not? You could…sleep over.”

__

I have no self-control, she thought to herself as she carried Eve’s sheets and pillows into Rowan’s room. Apparently they were all having a joint sleepover - the kids would sleep in Lilly’s room, and Aelin - well, Aelin didn’t know where she would sleep yet. That hadn’t been decided. 

After Aelin and Eve brought their stuff over to the room, they settled down at the dinner table for a dinner of steaming pasta. Aelin was pleasantly surprised at Rowan’s cooking skill, and she said as much.

“Thanks,” he said, biting down a smile. “I’m sure you are too.”

At his words, Eve let out a laugh. Aelin flushed as her daughter exclaimed; “Mommy is a terrible cook! She once tried to make brownies for my school bake sale an’ they were goopy an’ my friend Marianne got food poisoning! Daddy always did all the cooking-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Aelin interrupted her daughter before she could ruin her chances forever. As she glanced toward Rowan, she found his amused expression frozen, his eyes like chips of ice. She felt herself frown - what had set him off?

__

At nine the kids disappeared into Lilly’s room to “sleep”, leaving the parents to clean up dinner. Aelin watched Rowan stand at the sink, his powerful arms on display as he scrubbed their plates dry. She couldn’t help imagining that they were a family, he was her husband, and they -

Stop. She scrubbed her face, exhaustion suddenly overwhelming her. There’s no point in imagining anything. It’s done. She sighed and collapsed on their couch, surveying the room. Their hotel space was an exact copy to theirs, so she didn’t feel too bad as she made herself at home. 

“Can I ask you something?” Rowan asked, and Aelin turned to find him leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her with an expression she couldn’t place. At her nod, he took a deep breath. “Is…where is Eve’s dad?” 

Oh. Shit. 

His words were light, but Aelin could tell her response would be important to her. She took a deep breath. “He’s..he’s in the picture.” 

Rowan’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes looked agonized for a half-second before a wall snapped up behind them. “Oh. Alright.” 

“N-not like that,” she blurted - she’d do anything to get him smiling again. “I meant, uhm, well…he has Eve every other week. B-but…we’re divorced. We have been for a year.” 

Rowan’s face melted into a smile she could tell he was trying to tamp down. “Oh. Alright.” Aelin laughed as he repeated his exact words from earlier. At her laughter, Rowan chuckled too, crossing the room to sit next to her on the couch. His weight brought the cushion down, and she slid toward him ever so slightly, close enough she could smell his pine-and-snow scent. 

His eyes darted around the room, checking if the coast was clear, before leaning closer to her. Her breaths came quicker, and she closed her eyes as he brought his hand to cup her neck, rubbing his thumb over the exact spot her lovebite was. She felt him lean in and kiss her jaw, loosing a breath as his other hand stroked her hair. Aelin watched him, heavy lidded, as he kissed his way down to her collarbone, lower. 

“Kiss me,” she breathed. He drew in a sharp breath and obliged her, lips pressing gently against hers. It was a soft kiss, not urgent and sharp like earlier, and she leaned into him, letting his heat envelop her as he hugged her. 

She thought, as she gently made out with this man, she hadn’t felt this safe in years. 

[ffauthor]

Teacher William Afton x reader pt. 2

Read part one here:

William was still cradling you in his arms, rubbing soft circles on your thighs, kneeding his fingers in soft motions. You stopped crying, and your breathing was completely stable again, your head burried inside Williams warm chest. His arms over your shoulders, keeping your body pressed against his, you basically sitting in his lap.

"You know... I was supposed to do tons of paper work." You opened your mouth to speak, but william took this as an opportunity to stick his thumb in your mouth, making you stay quiet, confusion stilting your every move. "But... i'd rather spend my time with you." You just nodded, making Williams hand softly trail over to your chin, holding it in place. "How about... I'll take you home.. or too my place, and get some take out?" you basically melted in the way Williams warm hands massaged your collarbone, trailing down slowly. "Which one sounds good for you?" His thumb gets pressed further in your mouth, making you roll your eyes back slightly, your muscles clenching.

"I want you to be okay after all.." you mumble a slight yes, but it comes out muffled, making william chuckle slightly. "You have to use your words, darling." His finger tops press further into your skin, making you whimper. "Y-Yes.." Suddenly the warm touch turns cold, and the thumb in your mouth leaves a trail of saliva connected to the tip of his thumb and your lips. The sudden lack of touch gets you chills, and you beg to grave for more of his comforting touch. "Yes to which one?" His hot breath is nearby your ear, his mouth almost nibbling at your ear. "I-I'd like the.. second one, Mr. Afton." William nods in approval, shifting slightly underneath you. It was then that you realised the soft touch underneath you hardened, even tho you were in between his legs. William groans, holding your hair at the side and grasping his hand slightly on your throat. "Uhg. I love it when you call me that." He caresses the back of your hair softly, tangeling your hair around his finger and then janking only slightly, not that it hurt you. Williams intentions were to help you, to comfort you and make sure you were okay, not to hurt you. You just had a panic attack after all. And he wanted all the thoughts about that filthy rat who dared to make you uncomfortable and touch you in such a inappropriate way to be replaced by him. And only him.

"Very well then, sweetheart." William crawled backwards, standing up in a fast motion and not daring to leave his hand off your skin for a split second. He moved infront of you, holding his hand out to you and giving you a kind smile.

When you reached out to grab his hand, you were suddenly pulled in a tight hug, startling you completely. Just then you knew why. Henry was at the other side of the door, his cheeks colored a slight tint of red as he hesitantly holds the doorknob. He saw all of it, and both you and William were aware.

[thislovintime]

During the filming of Head: (photos 1-5) possibly April 11, 1968, photos by Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images, and Henry Diltz; a costume fitting, March 26, 1968 (photo via the official Peter Tork Facebook page).

Peter Tork: “There was a bit of a contradiction between the plan and execution. I think if due consideration had been given to where we wanted The Monkees to go next, we would have not only had a better movie, but maybe even moved the career forward instead of stopping it dead in its tracks.”

Q: "When the idea for Head was bandied about, was it based on artistic expression, rebellion, or just an opportunity to cash in on the Monkees name?”


Peter Tork: “It was an expression of where we were at the time. When we first talked about making a movie, the four of us agreed that we really didn't want to do a 90-minute episode of The Monkees. We wanted to go beyond sitcom situations, because growing up, [Micky] and I had seen some of our favorite TV shows, like McHale's Navy and Dragnet, turn into awful movies.The fairest understanding of the movie was that it was [director and co-producer] Bob Rafelson's take on the Monkees phenomenon overall, without much of a comment or a conclusion. The gist of the movie is the Monkees remain trapped and it seems like they're never getting out of it, which was peculiar because the movie was an effort to get out of it. Other than that, it was a little surreal, some parts are extraordinarily funny, and a lot of that is Jack Nicholson's idea of what was funny.”

Q: “What was your history with Nicholson at that point?”

PT: “
He didn't have much of a history with us. He'd come around the set for a while. He was fun and funny. He had a style and gestures. Mike adopted him completely. And then one day Bob said, ‘Jack's going to help make the movie.’ We were delighted because there was no mistaking Jack's power and capacity, intellectually and artistically. It was clear that here was a man who managed to make himself socially acceptable by bottling all of his insanity and putting it into useful channels. A very rare quality and one that's made him the superstar that he is. You couldn't help but feel that.”

Q: “
There were plenty of psychedelic films being produced at that time to varying degrees of success, so why didn't Head stick?”

PT: “
The Monkees ran into a brick wall and [Head] was part of that. And the fact that it was marketed as a head movie to the suburban kids and as a suburban, bubblegum movie to all the heads didn't help much either. It was a disaster in the making from some points of view. Commercially, surely.” - EW dot com, November 12, 2008

* * *

Head, of course, features two Tork songs:

“‘Can You Dig It’ is about the Tao. The hook line I wrote in my dressing room on the set [of the television series in 1967]. The chords for the chorus I’d written in college, and [they] had just stuck with me. I hadn’t been able to do a thing with them until I was sittin’ there, just writin’ on a scrap of paper with ideas, and I wrote, 'Can you dig it?/Do you know/Would you care to let it show?’ Those three as a triplet — as opposed to a couplet. I just looked at them and [went], 'Wow!’ I grabbed a pencil and circled those three. They were part of a quatrain. I said, ‘Wait a minute. No, this works best as a little three-line chorus.’” - Peter Tork, Head box set liner notes (x)

“The funny thing is that the lyrics [to ‘Long Title: Do I Have To Do This All Over Again?’] came to me right out of the air. I was just playing those chord changes on the guitar, and I opened my mouth and that’s what popped out. The song was weirdly prophetic. I had no idea that was going to be my attitude about anything having to do with music when I wrote that song. I wrote the lyrics in London on that famous trip with Karen Harvey Hammer and Justin Hammer, who are Lady and Baby respectively of the song ‘Lady’s Baby.’” - Peter Tork, Listen To The Band liner notes (x)

“I think they’re [‘Can You Dig It?’ and ‘Long Title: Do I Have To Do This All Over Again?’] the best songs in the movie [Head]. I love both of them. I thought they were just terrific. He had plugged himself into that whole Stephen Stills connection and was working with those guys. I think they fit the movie better than anything did. When those two songs start up in the movie, it comes alive for me.” - Michael Nesmith, Head box set liner notes

[onthewaytosomewhere]

Philip is quite frankly, fucked.

alright luv ur the last of this week's ficlets cuz I needed to make sure this was what it needed to be (since it's gonna link up with the big thing I'm working on)

WARNING: below this line lies implied future and past incestual activity of the brothers sharing boys variety - we're gonna call it afoxcest (alex and the fox bros) (superior to wincest) or FirstprinceS - we'll see - but if you do not or can not read this bcuz of that do us all a favor and scroll right by!!!

Philip is, quite frankly, fucked, he’ll admit it; Martha is laughing at him this morning when he has her over for breakfast to discuss how perfect Alex could be for Henry. Of course, she immediately realizes that Philip also thinks Alex is perfect. He isn’t even going to bother attempting to convince her that isn’t the case. She knows him as well as he knows her. They don’t have any secrets.

“I just need to hope Henry was his ‘impressing foreign boys’ self and not his ‘pissing the foreign boys off with his inability to be functional’ self.”

“Pip, that’s not fair; you know he’s struggling since your dad’s death. I know you’ve tried to help, but your Gran is a lot, and Henry has been getting the worst of it since then. Even if he has messed up, as we both know is possible your Gran was being a right shit forcing him so many places lately. You’ll just have to help him fix that. If you are truly convinced Alex is so perfect for him, or more, you’ll need to have a plan.”

How she never batted an eye when she found out that Henry and Philip have occasionally shared a man between them made him realize even more how lucky he was to have fallen in love with Martha. It’s not a thing they do often, less than they would like, but it’s not like they can find any random person. Their father’s illness did not make things easier in that regard. Besides dealing with the fact they may lose him, the person who helped their mother know who she was. He held their family together, and when he got sick, Philip watched their grandmother creep into more of their lives. He and Martha have attempted to divert as much of that attention off the rest of his family as they can by appearing to fall in line, but it has not been as successful as he would like it to be.  

Philip is brought out of his thoughts when Martha clears her throat and realizes he’s been staring at the table. There, he has the paper sprawled out, the picture of Henry and Alex at the diving competition that some photographer has snapped. Alex appears to be walking toward Henry with a smile that would make kings send armies to battle for him. Philip hopes it went well. He’ll find out soon; if not, he’ll help Henry fix it.

That afternoon, when Henry returns, Philip finds him in the music room at Kensington. He plops down the paper on the table next to him, and Henry looks up, startled, almost as if he’s expecting a reprimand. He instantly knows something must have gone wrong and hopes it’s fixable. He kneels in front of Henry, pulling his hands in his to comfort him, “What happened, Henry?”

“He's so beautiful, Pip,” the small, almost smile that tugs at Henry’s lips is sad, “But I’m certain I mucked it up beyond repair.” Philip gets up and pulls Henry to the nearby sofa, letting him tell him all the details, and starts thinking about what he needs to do to fix this and who he needs to contact to find out more about Mr. Claremont-Diaz. Henry begins to sob into Philip's shoulder. He soothes him, letting him fall asleep against him like their father used to do for all of them.

this can also be found on ao3 if you'd rather, they'll all be there as they get written

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

Harvest

ao3

ffn

chapter index

Frederick looked down as he and his brothers picked up the pumpkins from one of the farms on the hill above the town. 

“That’s a ship from Corona,” he said while loading the pumpkins onto the wagon. 

“How can you tell from all the way up here?” Anton asked. 

“See the flag?” Frederick pointed.

Anton and Peder both stared down at the harbor. 

“Oh, it is,” Peder agreed. “I never really looked at any of the ships that closely.”

The twins ran off to get the remaining pumpkins from the farmer, and Frederick started getting the wagon ready to return to the castle.

“I bet you that’s Henry,” Frederick said as they began to ride down the hill into town.

“Wasn’t he just here?” Anton asked.

“That was last summer,” Frederick reminded him. “It’s been two and a half months since then.”

“Oh, right.”

“So, are they getting married now?” Peder asked.

“I doubt it,” Frederick said. “Not from what everyone was saying. Maybe next summer?”

***

Henry couldn’t quite remember how he left Inga’s room, but he had reluctantly followed her parents as the maid was sent back in to help Inga dress for the day, and they led him into the study. 

“I… I should probably write to my family,” he said. Nobody had said anything for quite some time.

Inga’s mother was the first to speak up. “Please let me know when you finish, and I’ll ring for Kai to send it out with today’s post.

“Thank you,” Henry said, studiously avoiding eye contact with anyone. 

He worded the letter as vaguely as possible, only making clear that the wedding was going to happen as soon as possible, but not giving the reason. He wanted to send a letter to his mother that would get there more quickly, but not with Inga’s parents watching him.  Also a letter to Hilde. She would surely guess.

He signed and sealed the letter, and sat at the desk looking at the wall.

“Here it is,” he said. 

Inga’s mother rang for the steward, who showed up quickly, accepting the envelope.

“His Highness’s room is ready,” he mentioned. “Do you need any help in finding it?”

“If I may be excused?” Henry asked.  If the room was the same as the one he had stayed in the summer before, he would need no help at all. 

“We’ll let you know if we need you,” Inga’s mother said with an air of formality, which he knew was covering up whatever she might actually be thinking about the situation. 

He followed the steward to the room which was so familiar now, and burned into his memories.

Henry sat down at the table in the room and got his own paper out.  First, he wrote a letter to his mother, merely a slightly more informal version of what he had just written, still not mentioning exactly why the wedding would be happening so soon, but alerting her that it would be happening as soon as they could make it to Arendelle.  Then, before sending the first one, he began a letter to his sister.

Dear Hilde,

I don’t know if this letter will surprise you or not, but Inga and I will likely be getting married before I return to Corona. We will try to make it a proper wedding, as I know you’ve told me what you think about me renouncing my claim and leaving you as the sole heir. I promise I will do my duty. I will leave the other details for a later time. 

Your Brother,

Henry

Henry sent off the two letters from the window, and the wind seemed to guess at the secret he was keeping from his own family.  

He heard the door opening.

"James?" he asked. 

"Yes, Your Highness," his valet replied, walking over to Henry’s wardrobe in order to put away the clothes he had brought along.

“Did I…  Did you pack that suit, you know the one?”

“I did, in fact,” James smiled,  “I was actually surprised you didn’t ask days ago, but one never knows when one might need to dress for utmost formality, particularly in your position, Your Highness.”

“Thank goodness,” Henry replied.

“I have not been informed of any occasions requiring formal dress, but do you have a particular reason for inquiring?”

“The wedding is going to happen,” Henry said.

“Soon?” James asked.

“Yes, we’re not entirely sure when it will be, the council hasn’t met yet, of course I only just returned this morning…”

“I had understood the plans were for next summer. Is there a reason for the change?”

Henry looked away.

“Of course,” James nodded. “I was afraid of that.”

“I didn’t say-” 

“Then what is the reason?”

“I mean, it is… that… Inga just found out today.”

“I see,” James nodded.

“Do you think they’ll suspect?  My parents, that is… I know Hilde will probably guess right away.  She’ll tell me as much, I just know it.”

“Your Highness,” James said, slowly walking over, “if they don’t suspect at first, they’ll have no doubts later on.”

“And then what?”

“People will lose interest and find the next thing to occupy their attention.  Some people will bring it up whenever it serves a purpose.  I shouldn’t worry if I were you.  As far as youthful indiscretions go, this was a mild one, not to mention a common one.”

“Youthful indiscretions? You make it sound like I was… in the habit of doing such things.”  Henry stood up, facing James, and then walked past his valet to the wardrobe, mindlessly looking through his suits hanging there.

“Yes, but you’re not married yet.  Until that happens, it’s important not to let too many people know.  A few people will figure it out quickly enough, but most people can’t be bothered.  Just don’t give them any proof.”’

“You figured it out quickly enough.”

James gave him a look.

Henry turned around, looking over his shoulder at James standing by the window. He sighed. 

“Of course you suspected,” Henry said.

Henry walked back over to his desk and sat down, opening an empty page of his sketchbook but feeling no motivation to draw anything.  James continued unpacking.  Henry’s thoughts began processing everything from the morning, now that the shock was wearing off. What were he and Inga going to do once they were married?  They hadn’t thought this out.  They hadn’t even agreed where they would live yet.  They hadn’t even discussed it.  They could travel back and forth, he supposed, but Inga might not like that. She had mentioned how terrible sailing had been for her.  It would be nice if they had some place that would be their own, but what?  Where?  Money wasn’t an issue, that much was true.  

***

Hilde sat on the balcony overlooking the city of Corona, reading a book she had recently acquired. All of a sudden, a gust of wind blew in, stopping almost as soon as it started, and a letter deposited itself in her open book.

It was from Henry. He hadn’t bothered writing during his voyage so far, so why now?  She was hesitant to read it, and was briefly relieved that it seemed positive; no one was sick or dying or hurt, he was just excited about getting married. Except then she reread the letter. He would be getting married before he returned to Corona, and they would try to make it a proper wedding?

Hilde closed the letter inside her book and went to find her parents. She checked the royal study, and her grandfather was there with some advisors.

“Clothilde, come in!” he bellowed. 

“Sorry, Grandfather, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. Have you seen my mother?”

One of the advisors looked up. “Your Highness, your parents are having a luncheon with some distinguished visitors.”

“Who?” Hilde replied. 

Her grandfather waved his hand. “My dear, if it is important, you may interrupt your parents’ lunch.”

Hilde ran toward the dining room, and found her mother alone outside reading a letter.

“Mother, I was told you were having a luncheon?”

“Yes, but I just received a letter… it’s from your brother.”

Hilde considered her words carefully. “What does he say?”

Her mother looked at her and then back at the letter, beginning to mindlessly crumple it in her hands.

“May I see the letter, Mother?” she asked. “He sent me one just now, too. I can’t imagine he would say anything to you that I haven’t seen.”

Her mother handed the letter over. 

Dear Mother,

There will be a letter arriving in the official post next week, but I would like to see you all sooner than that if it is at all possible. Inga and I will be getting married before I return to Corona, and if I hear word from you, we can schedule the wedding so that you can attend. Please let me know.

Love,

Your Son,

Henry

“He told me he was getting married, he didn’t ask me about coming to the wedding,” Hilde commented.

“Why is he getting married so soon?” her mother whispered. 

Just then, her father came out. 

“You’ve been out here a while, sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked.

“Henry is getting married in Arendelle,” Hilde told him.  “And apparently he’d like us to all come. I have no idea how we’d let him know soon enough to schedule anything.”

“Oh,” her father muttered.

“I’ll write back to him, he’ll know by this evening,” her mother said.

“I thought Arendelle didn’t have telegraph lines yet,” Hilde said.

“Henry didn’t tell you how he sent you the letter, didn’t he?” her father asked.

“No.” Hilde knew that there was something Henry knew about sending the letters, but now she realized she might be the only one who didn’t know how it worked.

“So,” her father said, turning to her mother. “Are you going to tell your parents now or wait for the letter?”

“Grandfather is with his advisors right now,” Hilde said. 

“Actually, we left some Maldonians in there, you know,” her father said. “So we should probably wait.”

***

Frederick slowed down the wagon as he and his brothers returned to town. As they passed by Isabel and Captain Olsen’s house, Meibel ran out the door. Frederick stopped the wagon.

“You got the pumpkins, Frederick?” she asked.  

“Of course we did, Meibel,” Peder scoffed. 

“Do you want a ride into town?” Frederick asked.

“Sure, why not,” Meibel smiled. 

“It’s not a far walk,” Anton interjected. 

Meibel climbed in, ignoring the twins. 

“Is that the Corona’s flag on that ship?” Peder asked.

“I told you that, remember?” Frederick sighed. 

“Are you excited to go to the Naval Academy there?” Meibel asked.

“Ugh!” Peder exclaimed. “He’s been talking about nothing else. Please don’t bring that up!”

They arrived in town, and stopped by Hudson’s Hearth to unload the pumpkins.

Halima stepped outside, and Meibel jumped up and ran over and gave her a hug. 

“Did you see the ship from Corona?” Meibel asked.

Halima smiled and nodded, glancing over at the castle. 

“How are you boys doing?” Halima asked Frederick and his brothers.

“Good,” Frederick said. “I should go check if Henry arrived on that ship. Inga has been looking forward to that.”

“Is she feeling any better?” Halima asked.

“I hope so,” Frederick replied. “I suppose I’ll be stuck entertaining Henry if she’s not.”

***

Anna and Kristoff stood in the library, staring at the door as Henry followed Kai out of the room.  Anna had hardly let herself think for the past half hour. Had it only been a half hour?

“Now what?” Kristoff asked. 

Anna shook her head and sat down on the sofa, and Kristoff joined her. They sat silently, and her mind went over and over what had been said in Inga’s room. 

“What were you going to tell Inga?” she asked Kristoff.

Kristoff shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I hadn’t thought things through.”

“You had to have had some idea,” Anna insisted.

“I guess… what I was thinking was that nobody would have noticed if we had another. That way maybe we could have figured out a way to make it look like it was ours.”

“If the two of them weren’t both so determined to get married, I think I would agree with that.”

“You think they’ll be happy, then?”

“Who knows,” Anna admitted. “But I think he’s determined. He might not have thought things through, but I think Inga could do worse than marry him.”

There was another knock at the door.

“Come in!” Anna called out.

Kai stepped in. “Your Majesty, the council is ready.”

“I’ll head out,” Kristoff said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be here for the meeting?” Anna asked. 

“Yes,” he replied.

***

James had left the room an hour earlier, judging by the church bells outside having just chimed for a second time. Henry heard the wind suddenly rattle at his window.  He had gotten used to these isolated gusts of wind letting him know that Inga had sent him a letter, but right now she could simply slip any note under his door. He thought about sending her a note, but first he needed to see what this was at his window.

He opened the window, and a letter blew in. It was his mother’s writing. 

October 23rd, 1865

Dear Henry,

We were very surprised to see your letters to myself and to Hilde earlier today. We are making arrangements to travel to Arendelle in two days.  We will save the many questions we have until we arrive there, and we will be there within two weeks. Your grandparents will be traveling with us, as well as Hilde, though you neglected to mention inviting her to the wedding in your letter to her.

Love,

Mother

Henry took a deep breath. His mother knew that he had written to Hilde as well. He hadn’t even realized that he hadn’t invited Hilde to the wedding, it had not been an intentional slight, but apparently they had discussed the letters with each other. At least they were coming soon. He wrote out a quick note to Inga, and folded it up. He had no idea what he was expected to be doing, so he was going to slide the note under her door. As he opened his door, Inga was standing there. 

“Hello,” he said. 

“Hi,” she said. “I wanted to see if you were here.”

Henry stepped out into the hall, and closed his door behind him.  

“Funny thing,” he choked out, stopping himself from laughing. “ I was going to bring you a note. My mother already wrote back.”

“Oh,” Inga said. 

“How are you feeling?” Henry asked. 

“Tired, but I’m well enough, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Henry said. He wanted to hug her, but at this point, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.  “Have you spoken to your parents since-”

“No,” she shook her head. “My maid came back and, well, I had to tell her. She had been so sure that the gossip was baseless, I felt bad.”

“James knows. I wish I could say he was surprised, but I think you know.” 

Inga nodded. 

“So, um,” Henry began. “The weather seems nice?”

“Let’s go outside to the garden,” she suggested.

Henry reached for her hand, and she gave him a squeeze, then linked her arm in his respectably. 

They walked out the nearest door, and found themselves in the garden. 

“I should be helping with preparations,” Inga said as they approached a bench. “The festival is happening tomorrow, and I just feel like I’m avoiding everyone.”

“I think everyone understands,” Henry said. 

They sat down next to each other, linking fingers briefly, before some commotion nearby caused them to simultaneously sit slightly separated from each other, as if overcorrecting their behavior now would fix what was already done.

Henry saw two of Inga’s brothers run across the way at the other. Following them was Frederick, who happened to look over. He glanced back in the direction of the twins before walking their direction.

“Henry!” Frederick called out. 

Henry stood up, and shook hands with Frederick. 

“Is it true you’re going to get married while you’re here?” Frederick asked.

Inga was turning a shade of pink, looking away.

“Um, yes,” Henry said. “News travels fast, huh?” 

“Father just told us that Mother is speaking with the bishop right now, and enough of the council is in town that they’re going to meet this afternoon.”

“What else did he tell you?” Henry asked.

“That was it,” Frederick said. 

“Oh, that’s good,” Inga said, with obvious relief. 

“I wouldn’t worry, Inga. Father didn’t seem happy about it, but he’s not stopping anything. I don’t know why he’s not happier about it. Henry is pretty nice.”

“Thanks?” Henry said.

“I mean it, and I’m not just saying that because Inga likes you.”

Inga took Henry’s hand, and Henry sat back down with her. 

“I suppose he doesn’t want me to leave here,” Inga said.

“You will have to move to Corona, then?” Frederick asked. “I’m glad I’ll be there, then.”

***

Anna returned to her study from the council meeting and rang for Kai. She had managed to get the provisional consent of the council to allow the wedding to happen in the next few weeks, since the bishop had agreed to it already, and spoke in favor of allowing it to happen without undue delay. They would approve whatever details were agreed on with the royal family of Corona once they arrived.  

Somehow, nobody had asked if there was a reason to make the wedding happen quickly. She valued the small blessing. 

Kai arrived. 

“Hello, Kai, could you make sure that Henry is invited to dinner with the family?” she asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Dinner will be in an hour, is that still good for you?”

“Yes, that works well. I don’t know if Inga will be able to make it, but make sure that Oline checks in on her.”

Kai nodded and left.

Anna stopped by their bedroom, and Kristoff was already dressed, about to head over to dinner. 

“I told Frederick and the twins about the wedding,” he said as they began walking. 

“How much did you tell them?” 

“Only that it’s happening soon. They’ll figure out the rest one of these days.”

Anna nodded. “I suppose all three of them will be at dinner this evening, then? I told Kai to make sure Henry is invited. At the very least, even if Inga isn’t feeling up to joining us, we don’t need Ambassador Meyer finding him tonight.”

Kristoff grimaced. “You make a good point.”

As they arrived at the dining room, they were surprised to see Inga and Henry already sitting at the table.  It wasn’t clear if they had been talking about anything when Anna and Kristoff arrived, but the younger two were holding hands and let go the moment she and Kristoff walked into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kristoff said somewhat gruffly, walking over to his usual seat. 

“We were outside and Kai told us Henry was invited to dinner,” Inga explained. 

“I’m happy to see that you’re well enough to join us, Inga,” Anna said sincerely, though she wondered how much her daughter was forcing herself for the sake of appearances now.

“I’ve heard back from my mother,” Henry announced. “They’re coming on the next steamship to Arendelle. My family, that is.”

“All of them?” Anna asked. 

“Yes, everyone will be coming, including my grandparents,” Henry replied. 

“Oh, of course, that will be good,” Anna nodded, sharing a brief glance with Kristoff, and glad that Inga was the only other person in the room right then. Having his entire family in attendance would help the appearances of this being intentional. “How much have you told them?”

“Just that the wedding will be happening soon after they arrive,” Henry replied. 

Anna wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or uneasy. They would have to know the truth at some point. 

She and Kristoff sat down at the end of the table.

Frederick arrived just then.  “What did I miss?” he asked, sitting down across from Inga and Henry.

“Henry just heard back from his family, and they should all be arriving within two weeks,” Inga informed him.

“All of them?” Frederick asked, “I thought your grandparents didn’t really travel.”

“Um, yes, they all want to be here,” Henry replied.  

“I guess the council decided to let you go ahead and get married?” Frederick asked.

“Did they?” Henry asked, turning to Anna.

“Yes, with very few questions.  The bishop helped considerably.”

“But usually they have so many questions,” Frederick commented.

"So, Frederick, how are the plans coming along for the naval academy?" Anna asked, intentionally changing the subject. 

"There's a term from January through May, and another term in the fall. And then the spring after that I would become a second lieutenant."

"Will you be sailing much?" Inga asked.

"Oh, there will be sailing," Frederick replied confidently. "It would be rather ridiculous to become a naval officer with no sailing experience, don't you think?"

Inga laughed, while Anna quietly wished that her son could find some other way to make his mark on the world. Kristoff seemed to notice, putting a calming hand on top of hers.  She realized she should try to include Henry in the conversation.

“Henry, what do you know about the naval academy in Corona?”

“My grandfather takes particular pride in it,” he told them, “he wasn’t the one who founded the academy, but he expanded it considerably when he took the throne.  It was his idea to invite select foreign candidates.”

“Why hasn’t Arendelle sent anyone before?” Inga asked him innocently.

“I… I don’t know,” Henry said, clearly not having been asked the question before, or perhaps not sure what answer would be safe in front of Arendelle's queen. 

Anna wasn’t going to be offended, not at this point, but before she could say anything, the twins and Sofia arrived at the same time.

“Sofia, you’re joining us tonight?” Anna asked. She hadn’t said anything one way or the other to Kai.

“Nanny said it was fine,” Sofia insisted, “and Anton and Peder were on their way, anyway when Meibel was going home.”

“I don’t see why not,” Inga insisted, “I no longer had dinner with Nanny when I was her age, unless it was some kind of state dinner.”

“That’s true,” Anna agreed, noticing Kristoff looking uncomfortable. Sometime later that day they would need to discuss whether they were going to adjust the rules for Sofia going forward.

0o0o0

October 21st, 1865

Dear Elizabeth,

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write back to you.  Planning the Harvest Festival was keeping me quite busy, but the festival went very well yesterday, and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves quite a bit.  I've enjoyed reading about your little baby, and I hope you tell me more about him. 

Meanwhile, I’m going to have to keep this letter short, because I’m still quite busy, but I will have some news to tell you soon enough. I suppose you won’t be particularly surprised. 

Sincerely,

Inga

Inga sealed and addressed the letter, and couldn’t help but feel guilty for not writing more, especially after so long of a delay of writing to Elizabeth.  

She dropped the letter in the tray that Kai would pick up for the post later that day, and made her way to the Cathedral. Henry was waiting outside the door for her, and the clock was chiming the exact time that her mother had told them to meet her there with the bishop. 

“Has my mother arrived yet?” she asked Henry.  

He shook his head silently, and just then, the bishop came out the front doors of the cathedral, motioning them to follow him inside.

Inga had felt well enough to put on a good appearance at the Harvest Festival the day before, introducing Henry to people, some of whom had already met, and others who were new faces.  Thanks to the permission of the royal council, they were able to say they were engaged. They had managed to avoid seeing the council in person, since their personal consent had been taken care of the previous summer. Between the letter from the King of Corona, and the word from the Bishop of Arendelle that he believed it was best, the matter was settled with surprisingly little grumbling. It helped that they had a quorum without the less agreeable members of the council, whose notifications had been delayed by a few hours.

The bishop led them up the back stairs to the choir balcony, and told them to wait while he finished discussing matters alone with the queen.

“How are you doing?" Henry asked Inga.

“You keep asking me that,” she sighed.

“Well, I mean-” 

“Have you heard about the acoustics of this place?” Inga said, cutting him off before he could say anything else. “Even if you’re whispering, people can hear you perfectly even in the back row of the pews.”

“That’s interesting,” Henry said, sounding confused. “But why are you telling me this?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many people don’t know about this, and what they think is a secret is known by everyone in town because someone was sitting hidden away in a dark corner of the cathedral listening while they were up here talking.”

Henry’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

The bishop brought them into his office. Inga’s mother was sitting in one chair, and the bishop showed them to two more chairs across from his desk. Inga made sure that she was sitting in between her mother and Henry. Her mother may not have been as visibly upset as her father had been, but it still seemed more comfortable that way.

If the bishop knew of their reasons for hurrying the wedding, he didn’t show it, though Inga felt certain that he must know. He seemed satisfied that she and Henry were, indeed, getting married for reasons other than feeling forced to do so, and he would proceed with the plans, and with the regularity of the steamship Henry’s family was on, they would schedule the wedding for one week later. 

Inga and Henry thanked him, and he seemed to sense their disappointment that it would not be sooner.

“While I understand the desire to expedite things further, any sooner and it would look suspicious now rather than later.”

The bishop knew. 

***

The next day, Inga stood in the middle of her room with her mother and the dressmaker and several assistants. They had taken several measurements of her and shown several different drawings of the latest fashions from Paris. Her mother asked her a question that she didn’t quite hear. Inga’s mind was thinking about a thousand different things.

“Inga,” her mother repeated, “you need to pick which one you want. They don’t have a lot of time to make it.”

“Just pick the dress you like!” Inga shouted at her mother in frustration, sitting down gracelessly in the chair in the corner of her room.  The dressmaker and her assistants looked between Inga and her mother helplessly.

Her mother walked over, kneeling down gently on the floor next to her.  “Inga, it’s your wedding, you need to be the one to decide what you want.  I can’t tell you.”

“But I don’t know!  It’s a dress!  I could decide if it was something practical, but it’s not.  I really don’t know what I want.”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before,” her mother said under her breath.

“What did you just say?” Inga asked, barely keeping her voice from rising. 

“I’m just saying, I can’t make this decision for you.”

“It’s a dress.  It’s a stupid dress. Pick one, and the dressmaker already has my measurements, so let’s call it a day.”

Her mother sighed, stood up, and walked over to the dressmaker.  The two discussed matters for a few minutes, and then the dressmaker walked over with some samples of fabric and a fashion plate.  

“Will this do, Your Highness?” she asked Inga.

“Um, fine,” Inga mumbled, “thank you, that will do.”

“Very well,” her mother said to the dressmaker, “You can work out the details with Kai downstairs, and let me know if you need anything else, thank you.”

The dressmaker and her assistants left the room, and Inga’s mother closed the door behind them.

“What was that all about?” she asked Inga sharply.

“Exactly what I said!” Inga cried, “I don’t care about the dress I’m wearing, as long as it fits.  It’s never been something I’ve ever cared about.  I should wear something appropriate to my position and the occasion, I understand that.  But why does that mean I need to pick something myself?”

“Because it’s your wedding, not mine or the dressmaker’s wedding or one of your friends.”

“If it were really my wedding, I would have just gone and gotten married,” Inga grumbled, walking over to sit on her bed.

“No one is stopping you,” her mother snapped, “No one has stopped you from doing anything you’ve ever wanted, not in your entire life.  You’re the one making your own life difficult, so don’t complain to me.”

“Fine, I won’t!”  Inga shouted.  She flopped down on the bed. “Now can I be alone, or is that just getting what I want like I always do?”

“I’ll come back to check on you before dinner,” her mother said, suddenly calm.  She left silently, closing the door firmly behind her.

[godofglitter]

The Vault (I Can See You)

Inspired by Taylor Swift's I Can See You, aka the reason I'm out of a very very long hiatus.

Read on Ao3 (it's back!)

*

It’s a dangerous game they’re playing today, and the summer heat seems to be turning up in response. In the cramped space of the storage closet, the scents of sharp cleaning fluid mix with fresh plastic, yet what makes Alex’s head spin the most is the all too familiar smell of Henry pressed up against him, and he finds he wants nothing more than to lick the fine bead of sweat making its merry way down his adam’s apple. 

“I can see you written all over this,” Alex says with a smirk, making sure the movement of his lips lies close enough to the spot under Henry’s ears for his breath to make him shiver- but not close enough to touch. Yet. 

With the hand that’s not pressing Henry to the metal grill of the storage racks, effectively trapping him between metal and a, ahem, hard place, Alex pulls out a crumpled piece of pink paper with conspicuous blue hearts drawn all over, and the cutesy message “Meet me tonight?” scrawled in the most unironically barbie looking handwriting Alex has ever seen. The kind of handwriting all the girls (and maybe secretly even Alex on some exceptionally boring nights) were always trying to perfect back in middle school, so they could write the names of their “true soulmates” on the back of their notebooks and on their arms and on every desk they were assigned to so the whole world could be privy to their not so secret matters of heart. The kind of handwriting that really had no business falling out of his APUSH report in front of the whole class, just as he was about to start his self-proclaimed genius paper on the historical influence of world politicians on American governance. 

Of course, much embarrassment had followed, with a not insignificant number of catcalls (from Nora, of all people, he’s going to fucking murder her later)- yet even through the waves of shame that made his cheeks flame red for the rest of the period, there was a vein of excitement coursing through him that drove him towards recklessness, retaliation- because he knew how this game worked, and he may have lost a round but he’d make damn sure he’d win the war. 

It’s working he thinks, allowing his smirk to turn into a ferocious, purposefully cocky grin at the sight of Henry’s disheveled nod. If only the rest of the school knew about this, too- the crackling sparks flying between them behind closed doors, the desperate breaths against breaths, the insurmountable need to bridge the infiniteness of the space between them. And yet, selfishly, Alex loves the fact that he’s the only one that gets to see Henry like this- cheeks a perfect rose blush, lips wet and bitten through, pupils blown so wide there’s barely a hint of blue around the edges. To the rest of the world, Henry and Alex are the bitter rivals whose pranks against each other will one day make the principal’s head explode- or worse, get the whole senior class in trouble. Only alone, in the secrecy of the vault they lock their hearts in, do Henry and Alex allow themselves to be what they truly are- madly, desperately in love with even the shadow of one another. 

It is this love that prompts Alex to drop a sweet- and maybe a little shy, screw him- kiss on Henry’s cheek, right before he drops his mouth down low to the pliant space right underneath Henry’s jaw and bites. 

Henry’s sharp intake of breath and clearly uncontrolled moan sends all the blood in Alex’s body rushing down, yet he resists the urge to abandon the farce and pull Henry into a searing kiss, and instead continues lavishing attention to the vivid red imprint of his teeth, sucking the soft skin underneath until with a broken breath Henry whispers “please, Alex.”

He knows the rulebook like he knows the backs of Henry’s hands, written in sly glances and brushes in corridors and the teeming darkness under sheets on late nights- and yet Alex can’t help but press his lips against Henry’s at the sound of his voice. The lilting vowels of his voice stick to his eyelids, making it impossible to open them against the cinematically bright sparks that are surely lighting the space between them. He allows himself to apply just enough pressure, a buildup, a hint of true feeling- 

-before physically wrenching himself out of Henry’s arms (seriously, does he have Alex coded magnets in there or something?) and staggering to the other end of the tiny closet. He will never admit it if you ask, but it takes him a second to get his lungs to breathe evenly, especially after Henry starts humming God Save the Queen (not for the first time since they’ve started this thing, unfortunately). The way Henry looks- hair pointing in sixteen different directions, tie undone, jacket forgotten on the floor- sends the anticipatory shiver down Alex’s spine that draws him back near Henry again, somehow closer this time, and prompts him to whisper- 

“Yeah, I will meet you tonight-“, 

A pause, brown eyes meeting blue, breaths abated. With a sudden, wicked grin, Alex bends down once more to blow a moment shattering raspberry on the rapidly purpling hickey on Henry’s neck, before backing carefully but quickly out of the closet.

“-As long as you can make it through the day!” 

*

“Alex Claremont Diaz, I will kill you!” Nora hears from- what?- a broom closet, of all things. Stupid Alex- he probably locked Henry in and went away with the key or something, she thinks, shaking her head at the stupid shenanigans the two of them kept getting into. Of course, I have to be the one to save them, as usual, she thinks as she whips out a spare storage key (swim club manager privileges, thank you) and walks towards the closet door. She’s still shaking her head disapprovingly as she enters the closet, only to see-

Nope, nope, that was emphatically not Henry in a state of utter undress with a giant hickey on his neck, that Alex did not put there, and Henry is not whisper shouting oh fucks behind her, this did not happen, everything is normal, the storage door is closed. 

She doesn’t know about Henry, but Nora will definitely be killing Alex tonight.