#I devoured her whole library and then she kept getting me more because she loves me

[kairiscorner]

rewatching beauty in the beast healed my inner child and fed me with more ideas

how could she ever want me? – miguel o'hara x fem!reader drabble

sweat trickled down his forehead as he anxiously paced back and forth around his office, mumbling to himself how imperfect everything seemed right then and there, how he couldn't get anything done right at the moment, and... how his claws wouldn't retract no natter how hard he tried. he mumbled to himself as he tried calming himself down, but no matter what mantra he whispered to himself left his lips nor what peaceful thought he tried to muster entered his mind–his claws, and now his fangs, were baring and were not going to retract any time soon.

like a wild animal, he paced around the room as if he were biding his time, waiting for his prey to emerge from their habitat to tackle them down and devour them–but his true intentions were nothing of the sort; miguel... was waiting for your answer to his invitation to dine with him, a very rare occurrence for him because he's never dined with anyone else before, at least not with someone he cared about, in a long, long, long time. "might wanna do those breathing exercises, mig; calm down." lyla told miguel as she played a classical song for miguel to calm down to, but it was futile–his overthinking and anxiety were consuming him. "what's taking her so long?" miguel asked aloud as he picked at his claws, forcing them to retract by himself.

lyla shrugged. "i invited her this morning, surely she's had all evening to think about it–where is she?" he asked in a growl, his patience running thin as he was still stressing out about how his claws and fangs weren't retracting on command. "try to calm down, mig, she's only known you for a few weeks." lyla reminded him as miguel slumped down on a big plush chair and dragged his claws across the felt arms of the chair–tearing it open and forcing the stuffing to come out in what appeared to be white tufts of fuzzy snow. miguel sighed as he sank further into the chair and furrowed his eyebrows together. "what's a few weeks when she's got my whole heart in the palm of her hand...? she's... she's intelligent, charming, strong, defiant–she's so beautiful, and, i... well, look at me!" miguel exclaimed in a self-deprecative roar as his eyes turned a deep shade of red the moment he set eyes on the virtual assistant.

lyla wasn't sure on what to tell miguel to calm him down; though the AI assistant was usually prepared for any and all interactions with miguel, this was one moment where she wasn't sure on what to say or do for him to make him feel better, because nobody had control over your emotions or opinions towards miguel. "the best you can do is hope," lyla said as miguel bared his fangs and lowly grunted all angrily. "and control your temper, mig." she reminded him as miguel balled up his clawed fist. his nostrils flared and he shut his eyes tight, he hated how lyla was right all over again... he took a deep breath in and out, and kept this up until his shoulders weren't tense anymore, and his claws were retracting. ultimately, succumbing to the notion that everything else was up to you was kind of calming miguel down, and he was slowly beginning to accept so.

"...i'll try." he told the AI assistant as you reappeared in the front of his mind again–with your beautiful face looking into his own and smiling up at him all charmingly–how could he say no to you? you were so perfect, so lovely, so beautiful; and he was just... him. how could you ever love a beast like him, right?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Several people have been kind enough to let me publish their thoughts on fandom, community, and queerness to celebrate Pride in the Library. Today's piece comes from @lqtraintracks.

I got into fandom a long, long time ago, way back before I found HP in 2012. My early days in another fandom (days meaning years) are not a time I want to revisit, even though it started out really good. I got to explore my sexuality for the very first time there. I met my first gf there. And those things were beautiful, for sure; they were just short-lived. After a couple of years, I met an abuser, and from then on my fandom life was predetermined by them—what I could and couldn’t read, could and couldn’t write, who I could and couldn’t form friendships with, etc. And even in the midst of that, there were those friendships that bolstered me. @elrhiarhodan, I’m looking at you.

But after 13 ½ years of that… I found HP. And I found a wonderful person who would change my life. I met Shelly / @unmistakablyoatmeal. For the first time in a very long time, I saw someone writing queerly and freely, who, far from being limited to one pairing for life, was writing all kinds of pairings (and threesomes), dynamics, and stories! I was so powerfully drawn to that freedom, and to her, and in no small way, she and this fandom are why I survived, and how I escaped and started to change my life and reclaim it as my own. 

I’ve met so many wonderful people here, many of whom have become close friends, my best friends. I’ve been writing all the queer smut my little queer heart has desired for many years now, and it’s been beyond amazing.

But something changed for us a few years ago, and our community hasn’t been the same since. The person who wrote the canon turned on us. She revealed herself to be all kinds of monstrous. 

There were clues, of course—the antisemitism inherent in her Goblins, the fat phobia, the queer baiting without any actual rep, the racism and ignorance shown in naming Cho Chang, etc. We knew but maybe we didn’t want to know. And being white and not Jewish, I lived under an umbrella of privilege that meant I didn’t have to see it until other people began pointing these things out to me.

But then the transphobia started. And kept going. And it became her platform. And it got worse, and worse, and fucking worse

As painful and horrific as that has been, it seems to have done what that sort of vile bigotry has always done though: It’s shown us that we are and will always be stronger, wiser, more loving, and ultimately undefeatable. I’ll speak for myself: I wasn’t writing trans characters before. I was afraid I’d get it wrong. JKR’s evil bullshit is what pushed me to get over myself. 

This fandom is where I have learned the most about the queer community I love. It’s where I’ve truly learned to write. And it’s where I’ve learned about facets of queer life I’d never connected to properly before out of the fear of trying. 

Here’s what I’ve learned: Bloody no one comes together like we do! No one supports one another like we do! We’ve forged a stronger bond because of some terf’s hate, and I feel closer to my fellow queer creators than ever.

This fandom, you beautiful people, have taught me so much, continue to teach me so much. I’m honored to share this space with you. Happy Pride to all you gorgeous people being your trans, nb, fluid, ace, bi, pan, poly, intersex, queer, powerful selves.  Thank you from the bottom of my little queer heart. I love you.

Thank you, LQ, for joining me in the Library. I love your declaration of fandom as ours, and the recognition that we are a stronger community because of what we've overcome. Thank you for celebrating Pride in the Library with me.

If you want more @lqtraintracks be sure to check out their work on AO3! I just finished reading her Phoenix in the Fire and I was hooked the whole time! I couldn't stop until I'd devoured the whole thing. I think you'll be just as hooked as I was. I also want to throw in how much I loved A Strapping Young Man - I loved reading about Harry's desire for Draco, and how Harry's desire is bolstered by Draco's confidence.

🏳️‍🌈 Lots of Love and Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈

[mushi-shield]

Ascendance of a Bookworm Part1 vol.1 Prologue lets talk the foreshadowing and about the growth of Myne/Rozemyne

Urano was even interested in old tales and myths from foreign  countries, as she felt like they gave her a glimpse into different cultures of ages long past. They were rich with history and she couldn’t count how many hours she had lost to unraveling their mysteries.  

this is why Myne/Rozemyne is so good at learning about the culture she was reborn into so fast because she already find that stuff to be interesting, that why she was so good at just accepting too believe in the gods when she was an atheist at the time because she notice things in the world that when she was Urano there was no magic.

It not only too keep her alive by fitting in it also help her in making books, she had too figure out what was already made like with the ink she did not know what type of ink was made at the time.

Urano she would always head straight for the back rooms of whichever libraries she visited. 

Urano loved the smell of new paper and ink. 

In order to survive she always kept a book close at hand, whether she was taking a bath, using the bathroom, or even just walking  around. She had lived this way from childhood to her college graduation,  clinging to books with such fervor.  

when Urano woke as Myne and she kept failing at making paper so she could make books she wanted to just give up and die.

it was Lutz who give her the will to keep going because she made a promise too him.

“Urano, c’mon, that’s dangerous. Stay close to me.” “Mmm...” Urano pushed up her glasses and gave a lazy response, focusing more on the words in front of her. She noticed that her rustled hair was getting in the way and quickly brushed it aside. An exasperated sigh drifted into her ears and she felt someone pull on her arm, a little hard. Her brows furrowed. “Shuu, that hurts.” “Complain all you want. A little pain is a lot better than getting hit by a truck and dying, yeah?” “That’s true. I wouldn’t want to die from anything but an avalanche of Books.” 

who is this Shuu (Shuu is Lutz if you stop to think about) when we first meet Lutz he was the one too take care of Myne he was the one to know her the best he is the one that could tell if she is about too get sick , he also was the one who could control her the best, he was also someone who would make sure that she was kept safe.

Urano wanted to live her entire life surrounded by books. If possible, she  wanted to spend her whole life inside a book storeroom .

Myne and Lutz made a promise Lutz will make anything Myne thinks up and Myne will have so many books that she could not read all of them. and when Myne become Rozemyne and got engage Lutz had to remind Rozemyne there promise they made as kids.

Even if people said her skin was gross and pale and laughed at her for being weak due to lack of exercise, even if her mom yelled at her for forgetting to eat, she had no intention of ever letting go of her books. 

When Urano got born as Myne, it seems like she was already weak from the start and this is when we first see when Urano/Myne say they forget too eat when they read books. and how she also said she will never let go of books.

If she had to die somehow, she may as well die getting crushed by an avalanche of books. That’d make her a lot happier than a slow death in a hospital bed. Urano sincerely believed that. 

is it not funny that Myne has the Devouring which can cause something call the crushing, but she did not want to lay in a hospital bed but she ended up in a very sick body which make her spend a good about of time resting in bed.

“I’m always telling you not to read while you walk. If I weren’t here, you definitely woulda walked straight into the road and died in no time. How about a little thank you?” “But I say it all the time. I’m so, sooo thankful.” “That don’t sound too sincere to me.” “I am, I am. It’s thanks to you that I can read books while doing chores, Shuu. But even if I did die, I’d ask a god to reincarnate me so I can keep reading books in my next life. Isn’t that smart? Ahaha.” “Life ain’t that convenient, moron.” 

If not for Lutz keeping Myne on a short leash when they first started going too the woods, she would have not make it, like how Shuu kept Urano on a short leash she would have died by getting hit by the truck.

but both Shuu and Lutz did something that most people would not they stick with a person when most would have left them. because they care for them

and just As shuu, Lutz was the Reason why Myne was able to read, but she was the reason why she got adopted by the nobles which made her get a third death even if it's fake.

Shuu entered with her rather than going into his own house next door. As they were childhood friends and went to the same daycare, they had been raised like siblings practically since birth. He always referred to Urano’s place as home, and nobody questioned that. “Mom, here’s what you wanted. I’ll be in the book room. Call me whenever dinner’s ready.” “Right, right. What about you, Shuu? Is your mother planning on making anything?” “Nah, I’m eating here tonight. She’s got work.

Just as Shuu who Grow up with Urano, Lutz Grow up right beside Myne they know each other for ever.

Urano smoothly sat onto the desk chair without looking up from her book, and kept on reading. Suddenly, her vision shook. She concluded that an earthquake was happening and kept on reading as always. The shaking was harder than usual, which made it difficult for her to read. Her brows furrowed and she looked up, frustrated at the earthquake, only to see books dominating her vision. “Hyaaah?!” 

This is the first time we learn that Urano/Myne is not aware of things when she is reading, she feels a earthquake taking place but she kept on reading till it started to getting harder which was making it hard for her too read.

(we learn so much about her in just a prologue

that people miss, and there still some people who think she has no growth,

she started out just thinking about herself, she was not thankful for all the things her best friend did for her or how she talk about just being around books and never letting go of books even if she should die she wants books to be the reason why she die.)

but as we read and grow with Myne and then Rozemyne we start to see her start to care about people, start to put people above books, how she was willing too choice her family over books, and how she give up her happiness with her family to save them so the nobles will not kill them.

how she willing to start a war for person she cares about, that is not a person who only thinks about themselves that is a person who learn to care about others and learn to also love books at the same time.

[quarter-life-crisis2]

I’ve just spent the whole of my weekend absolutely devouring this book basically. 200k words in two fucking days, I want to put it in my library.

Saturday evening when I started it, I figured I’ll stop a couple chapters in, fast forward to 8am on Sunday, I decided it’s time to sleep because I couldn’t see the words anymore. Very much a throwback to high school days.

I proceeded to sleep for 4 hours, after which I woke up and had to keep reading because I couldn’t stop thinking about it, even dreamt it.

2pm on Sunday found me sobbing into a [?!breakfast] burger in my pjs. That was rough, and a low moment to me personally, but according to my friend it’s cute how invested I get into characters. I won’t lie, seeing my reflection in the tv was fucking funny and I won’t forget it any time soon.

SPOILERS BELOW!!!!!!!!

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The sob fest continued as the tears turned to happy tears and emotional tears. Baba song mountain conversations had me wrecked I was so emotional.

I’ll be honest, hobi was nice but I was never on board with it. He was too perfect, the humour was missing, even the spice tolerance, he just wasn’t on the same level. She kept trying to change for him. I knew, but I was convinced when she shouted at the kid by the pool and figured his alcohol tolerance won’t keep up with her. Plus a bit judgy.

The progression was just, omg I’m so overcome with emotion. It was just *chefs kiss*. The absolute awkwardness in so many key moments was incredible, the stumbling through their emotions, even towards the end, absolutely loved it. Even the first date, I just knew it didn’t matter, they just had to have fun together like always. That’s what you really need in life isn’t it? Someone to have fun during the mundane and imperfect moments.

The journey felt earned, the characters all so well developed. Her reaction to the drunk confession haha one of those moments where you’re like “this can’t go well I’m barely 35% through the story”.

ALSO, Anita is just my love, I absolutely loved her character, so unexpected. The interrogation scene I was laughing so much. “Aha go on you’re so close”. I loved how she was just curious and in peoples business but with the best of intentions. I was so invested in all the side characters, even the ones with a short arc. Jk going “why is everyone coming out to me also made me laugh”.

The details in the wedding, I felt like I could really picture the whole thing. The amount they just adored each other, how insecure they both are over different things, his lame Instagram descriptions haha I was aha see he can’t be too perfect, how much he loved her thighs and her in general, especially after hearing her internal dialogue. Made me look down at my thighs and think more positively.

Gosh I have so many thoughts, just when you read for 24hr with a 4hr break, all the moments blur into one ecstatic melancholic mood. I’m so happy with how it was, but I’m so sad I finished it.

I’m not allowed to start another story at 1am when I have work in the morning so I will just bask in the joy of finding a new favourite writer, knowing how many more stories I can go through.

I’m at a loss of words now, such a talented writer.

Ok I’ll finish my exhausted sleep deprived delirious ramble, I’m so emotional I could cry again as if I haven’t on and off all afternoon.

Tell Me What Changed (Master)

Banner and lines by the talented @awrkive

Summary: Alex and Jungkook have been best friends since childhood –actual best friends. She is NOT in love with him, for real, and wishes people would stop assuming that. Why does no one question if he’s in love with her? Huh? But it might have to do with his successful fuckboy status, while Alex is very much… not that. Which is fine and doesn’t matter! Until Jimin’s impending wedding leaves her eager for a date and willing to put herself out there, and Jungkook can’t believe what happens next.

Fuckboy Best Friend JK x OC

CW and tags: fuckboy behavior, jealousy, pining, heartbreak, angst, language, sex, sexy photos, alcohol, f2l, who knows what else

Read on AO3 here or below

Part One (word count 18,561) Part Two (word count 22,573) Part Three (word count 17,993) Part Four (word count 14,805) Part Five (word count 14,935) Part Six (word count 26,439) Part Seven (word count 21,171) Part Eight (word count 24,460) Part Nine (word count 19,060) Part Ten (word count 29,670; split in 2 posts) Part Eleven (word count 36,762; split in 3 posts) Epilogue (word count 8972)

All done for now! More one shots or drabbles may happen and they'll get added here <3

[gatheringbones]

part one of Adrienne, from The New Lesbians: Interviews With Women Across the U.S and Canada, by Laurel Galana and Gina Covina

[manonblaqkbeak]

The Little Bookshop

here’s my contribution for day 28--bookshop au. just one more story to go and i’ll be officially done with rowaelin month!!

cw: very light mention of female infertility. and verrrrrrrry light smutty language. (if theres any i missed, pls dont hesitate to let me know!)

2.7k words

enjoy!! :)

Aelin woke up surrounding by the arms of a furnace. That furnace being her six foot four husband. Normally, she would love waking up like this, but with summer arriving early and the very fact that she could spend all day like this despite the heat and the million things they had to do today it was not something Aelin could love at this very moment.

Kicking off the cotton sheets, Aelin tried to leave the bed but to no avail. Rowan's grip tightened in his sleep and he mumbled something that might have been “five more minutes”.

Knowing very well that “five more minutes” could turn into another hour, Aelin told her husband that she had to pee, otherwise she was going to wet the bed.

That worked, and Rowan planted a kiss between her shoulder blades as he turned over, facing the curtains.

A small mischievous smile found its way to Aelin's mouth as she quietly walked over to the cream blackout curtains and yanked them back, flooding their bedroom with the bright morning sun.

Rowan groaned at the rude interruption, flopping over on his stomach to avoid the sun. But Aelin simply back over and took the sheets and his pillow away from him (and because she could, she admired his muscled back, but soon came back to reality when all the things they had to do came flooding back).

“It's too early to be tortured like this,” Rowan mumbled, his green eyes finding hers. “And I thought you were about to wet yourself.”

Aelin gave him her best simpering smile. “A little lie. Now, get up, because we need to get started on the day.”

Grumbling at the sun still blinding him and the fact that he wife was always far too energetic in the morning, Rowan put on his summer slippers and shuffled into the kitchen behind his wife, who turned into a pale pink blur as she whirled around the kitchen, taking out the slow cooker and the dry ingredients for their dinner, the pumpkins and sweet potato and the peelers, and the Brussels sprouts that had to be halved. She rattled on about the guest room and the living room, going on and on and on.

They had been married for five years, together for seven, and Rowan still had no idea where she got all this energy in the morning from—especially considering that she would often tell people that she was not a morning person. He couldn't even comprehend most of what she was saying until he had his water and coffee.

After downing his water and turning on the coffee pot, Rowan heard Aelin muttered something about the roof gutters needing cleaning as she peeled the sweet potatoes over the sink, Rowan gently placed his hands on her face and kissed her.

“Breathe,” was all he said.

“I don't have time to do something like that, there's just so much to do.”

Rowan kissed her again and again until Aelin relaxed to his touch slightly. “I know how important this day is to you,” he said to her gently, “for us and the store, but I promise that everything will be fine.”

Aelin dumped the sweet potato and peeler in the sink and wrapped her arms around his bare waist, hugging him tightly as she rested her head on his chest. Taking a deep breath, Aelin smelled the homely scent of Rowan. When she had first meet him, he had been a surly bastard, but she couldn't deny that he smelled good. It was the main thing that drew her to him, that he always smelled like home.

His personality, however, was abrupt as her own back then. But they had worked to better themselves, both individually and then as friends and then beyond, when that friendship turned into something more.

To this day, Aelin never thought that she would have married the scowling bookshop owner she met when she moved to Doranelle. That the man who she thought really shouldn't be in customer service would become the most important person to her. She often told people that Rowan was her soulmate, that there was no better word to describe what he was to her.

Rowan ran his hand up and down her cotton-clad back, the motion always making her melt. “It's just,” she found herself saying after long minutes, “this is such an important day not just for us, but for Elide. It's her first book tour and I want it to go well. I would hate it if something went wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Rowan assured his wife.

“Unless you've developed psychic abilities overnight,” Aelin said, her voice taking on her snarky tone when she was getting stressed, “there is not possible way you could know that.”

“No, I have not developed clairvoyant skills, but I know that things will work out because you were there every step of the way planning this event with Elide and her team, it will work out spectacularly.” He had helped when he could, but Aelin was best at planning things in their relationship. She knew when things needed to be better or more organised, her passion for creating eventful nights making them unforgettable—like his thirty-fifth birthday; months later and he was still finding eco-friendly glitter in their apartment. It was her passion that made the shop better, that made it inviting and comforting. Her passion helped Rowan to fall in love with the store he inherited from his late parents again. He had been weeks away from deciding to sell when Aelin first arrived, her golden hair practically blinding him from how brightly it shined.

Rowan didn't really like her at first (he didn't really like anyone back then), because she was just so damned loud and kept buying books that he loathed to restock because that meant dealing with people and orders and delivery drivers when all he wanted to do was to be left alone and look for work that didn't have to deal with the general public.

But things slowly started to change during her visits, when he was actually looking forward to her coming over instead of dreading it. Their friendship had started in the most unexpected of ways—the day that Aelin had purchased a book about living with infertility, and Rowan had sensed that if he said the wrong thing, then she would lash out from her vulnerability; so Rowan confessed to her that he had his own cousin, Sellene, had issues with fertility, but lived a completely well-rounded life and was happy.

The smile that Aelin gave Rowan when he said that...he would never forget it in a million years. It was full of relief, that he wasn't going to go on a tangent about how she wasn't trying hard enough to fix her fertility—all the shitty things he had overheard his older relatives say to Sellene.

And instead of leaving after buying her book, Aelin stayed and they talked until he closed, and hours after that, Aelin ordering pizza in the middle of it and they both devoured the food, and he walked her home. Aelin came over twice a day after that, until Rowan finally gathered the courage to ask her out, and here he was seven years later.

Rowan kissed her once more. “And if things go terribly wrong, then I'll help you forget.”

Aelin raised a golden brow. “And how will you do that?”

Rowan smirked and nipped her jaw. “With my teeth and tongue, Fireheart.” He chuckled at the sudden intake of breath from his wife and planted kisses along the column of her throat. Aelin leaned into him, but he moved away, grabbing his coffee to get the newspaper out front.

With a wink, he left his flustered wife, laughing under his breath when she called him a buzzard.

It was going to be a good day.

X X X X X X

It was the busiest Friday they had in several weeks, and Aelin wondered if it was because they knew that Elide was having her author talk that very night, and maybe some were hoping to meet her for free—but Elide wasn't going to be in the shop for hours. The last time Elide had texted her, she and Lorcan were going to lunch.

Sometimes, she couldn't believe her friend was a fully-fledged author. It was both of their dreams, and Aelin was utterly ecstatic that Elide had the courage to send her books out into the world. It was still Aelin's dream, but she was constantly doubting herself, and would talk herself down from pursuing that path.

One day, hopefully, she would learn to tell herself to shut up and reach out to potential publishers.

Finishing up her gift-wrapping, Aelin handed over the bundle of books to her latest customer when she overheard giggling.

It didn't take her long to find the source of the sound. Two teenage girls were currently ogling Rowan as he reached up to a high shelf for a short customer, his shirt rising up to expose a good amount of tanned, muscled skin.

Honestly, Aelin couldn't blame the girls. It was often she noticed this when she was on the shop floor, as she was often in the back dealing with the financial aspect of the business when she wasn't at her actual job at Doranelle University Library, but she had taken the last two weeks off to ensure that everything went well for this event tonight.

As long as adults didn't do it, she couldn't care less, otherwise she often felt like some damned territorial beast on the verge of baring her teeth and snapping at people to not undress her husband with her eyes.

Rowan liked it when she got territorial, and wished she did it more often.

Oblivious to the girls giggling, her husband kept reaching for more and more books, his skin on continuous display.

Maybe she should take more time off at work, since the views here were much better than looking at the faces of exhausted students.

Smiling, Aelin helped the next customer.

X X X X X X

Aelin's leg was bouncing anxiously next to Rowan, his wife fidgeting with her hands, swirling her emerald and gold ring around and around her finger.

In turn, it was making him nervous because seeing Aelin nervous set his whole system on fire—it was a rare sight to see her like this, but no matter how many encouraging words he would say, she wouldn't be calm until everything was done and went off without a hitch.

They were sitting in the front row, all the seats around and behind them full of eagerly awaiting fans to hear Elide talk about her new book in her series, their excitement-filled chatter reaching his ears. Lorcan was in the back, because Aelin had told him that while she liked that he was going on the book tour with Elide, his considerable height would be blocking people's view of Elide. To which he responded that people came to see Elide to hear her talk, not to look at her.

The scathing look from Aelin had Lorcan rolling his eyes but he went to the back, his considerable height no longer an issue—although Rowan did feel bad for the girl that was sitting behind him, considering he was six-four and broad, but there was no doubt that Aelin would let him move, so he stayed and would do his best not to ruin the night for those that he was blocking.

When Rowan noticed that it was 6:55, he brushed a kiss on Aelin's cheek and wished her luck as she went up to the spot where Elide would be talking, with Aelin asking the questions.

“Breathe,” he mouthed to her, and Aelin did, and as soon as she opened her mouth, the words came out smoothly and without a hint of her nerves—just as he knew they would.

X X X X X X

The night was a success, just like Rowan said and would be, and Aelin was still giddy hours later. After the talk, she helped take photos of fans with Elide, got out all the sharpies that she had purchased recently from the grocery store to ensure that Elide didn't run out of ink—because people wanted her to sign all of the books they owned by here and Elide was more than happy to do so.

Afterwards, Elide and Lorcan followed Aelin and Rowan into their apartment upstairs for dinner and Aelin was feeling just a little bit wine drunk, but she was just happy that everything worked out well and that Elide got to live her dreams.

Aelin and Rowan were currently down stairs, tidying up as they usually did just before they went to bed, with Rowan taking mental notes of all the shelves that were practically empty—because while people were waiting in line to get Elide's signature, they browsed the store and filled their colourful tote bags with mountains of books.

He wasn't complaining, but he still didn't like having to deal with restocking, but he would live.

Aelin was gazing dreamily at the cutout of the main character of Elide's story when Rowan came up next to her. “You could do it, you know,” Rowan said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“I know,” was all she said.

“Then why don't you?” He read her stuff all the time, and maybe he was biased because she was his wife and soulmate, but he fucking loved her work, loved the detailed writing and descriptions that made it feel as if he was in the world she made up. But she knew how much he loved her stories, so instead of repeating himself, he said, “Elide could help you. She's been in the industry for a while now. So I'm sure whatever question you have, she can answer.”

“I know,” she said again, still just staring at the cutout. She turned to him, a determined look on his face. “How about we make a deal.”

Rowan raised a brow. “Okay...?” it wasn't often that Aelin included him in her schemes, usually preferring to shock him into an early grave.

She gave him a smile that told him she had been thinking about her idea for a while now, and was just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it. “You start selling your drawings and I'll talk to Elide.”

“What drawings?” he said instantly, the years of having to hide to drawings from his nosy cousins still annoyed him and any mention of them had him wanting to deny he ever knew how to hold a pencil—not that his drawings were ever crude but nothing was sacred in the Whitethorn house he lived in after the death of his parents.

Aelin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I've been with you for seven years, I've seen you drawing—they even line our walls. You start selling them—we have plenty of empty frames hanging around—and I'll talk to Elide. Deal?”

It only took him a single heartbeat to realise why she was offering him this. Rowan's drawings were personal, as were her stories, so if Aelin had to open herself like that by giving the world her stories, then he could give away little pieces of himself, too.

“Deal,” he said because he would staple his drawings all over the city if it helped Aelin get her foot in the door, to help her with her dream that he knew she could achieve.

Her face deflated for just a second before she righted herself. Clearly, she wasn't expecting him to agree so quickly. But if she wanted to take her time, then he would give her all the time in the world.

“Deal,” Aelin said and even held her hand out. Rolling his eyes playfully, Rowan shook her hand.

When Aelin went to drop his hand, he lingered, and brought her closer to him. With a smirk, Rowan said, “I can think of a better way to close our agreement.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow. “And how would you do that?”

“With my teeth and tongue, Fireheart,” he said, repeating his words from earlier this morning.

Aelin crashed her mouth onto his, and Rowan closed their deal right in the middle of the shop floor, not at all caring that their friends were right above them.

Aelin thanked the gods that she had come into this shop over seven years ago to escape the boredom of her old apartment. Thank the rutting gods for bringing the ever-scowling man into her life.

[five-rivers]

Now i would like to see prompts of a curious benevolent eldritch being coming to visit Amity Park and coo at the baby eldritch (Danny) and tech him how to access his eldritch powers.

I know this is probably supposed to be about some more traditional and tentacle-y eldritch abomination, but this is essentially what I’m writing Grandfather Clocks as (not to mention assorted other oneshots and everything happening in Mortified).  I’m too invested in Lost Time to clearly imagine anyone but Clockwork in the Adult Eldritch Abomination role...  at least from a more general prompt like this one.  

... on the other hand I now have Vague Ideas (tm) about a full AU where Danny has eldritch abomination powers instead of ghost powers and all the eldritch abominations he’s ‘fighting’ are just coming to play with the baby.

WARNING this is for real written as horror, since it’s from Danny’s perspective.

.

Time seemed to congeal as the shadow in Danny’s soul stretched backwards.  This one had a name.  It skittered between the dark and the part of Danny’s mind that still resembled a human’s.  He breathed in, slowly, then out, tasting it on his tongue.  Once, it had been two.  

Finally, it coalesced into something he could actually speak.  “Skultech,” he said.  

“Relative of Skulker?” asked Tucker.  “Or Technus?”  He didn’t look at them or at Danny.  He had protections, but they weren’t perfect, and he’d already taken a step away from the light.  

“Yes,” said Danny, internally translating the vibrations of air into something with meaning and weight.  

Skulker.  The hunter, fleshless and tireless.  A pursuer of the mind more than the body.  Almost sporting in his own way.  The library with all its labyrinthine but immaterial paths was the best place to lose him.  

Technus.  A horror that lurked in the depths of the internet, luring in deep-web users and more than a few unluckly click-bait and phishing victims.  Technus didn’t kill them, did very little to them, really, but there was a reason there wasn’t a computer club at Casper High anymore.  

They had been two.  Now they were one.  Part of Danny was fascinated.  Another was thrilled, happy, as it always was when these dark things manifested themselves in Amity Park.  

His shadow stretched, whispering over his features.  He could feel curl over the texture of the ground beneath him, grasping at grass and bark and soil as if it were possessed of a thousand thousand tiny fingers.  It wanted to open up and play.

(’It,’ Danny said, as if it weren’t him, an extension of himself.)

“What do we do?” asked Sam.  She, unlike Tucker, looked directly at him, even half-shrouded in shadow as he was.  She always did, even if she averted her gaze from the likes of Skulker and Technus.  

Near the beginning, Sam had made the connection between the others, especially ones like Ember, who were as beautiful as the were dark, and cults.  She had started a joke about making one for Danny.  Over time, it had become less of a joke.  

Danny tried to ignore the pleasant buzz of his skin as he imagined a cult attempting to do something as sweet as bind him to their will.  

Because, really, he shouldn’t be thinking of something like that as ‘sweet’ at all.  

“It’s still Skulker and Technus,” said Danny, even if he had never seen them like this.  “I think... the same type of thing should probably work.  I distract, Sam gets people out of the way, Tuck, you get the computers at the library ready and tell me when to lead them there?”

“Do you think it’ll really work when it’s both of them?” mumbled Tucker.  “I don’t know if I can even do both of the things at once...”

“The alternative is not doing anything,” said Sam, “and considering that they seem to be after Danny...”

Tucker made a face, the glow from his PDA reflecting from his glasses.  “Yeah, I know,” he said.  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t try.”

“Remember,” said Danny, “don’t give me the go-ahead until you and everyone else is out.”

“Yeah, I remember, I remember,” he said.

“Go do your thing,” said Sam.  

Danny nodded and left the shelter of their hiding place.  He did not stand up, or walk, or move.  He simply stopped being there and started being in front of Skultech.  

From a distance, he probably still looked human.  

They fought.  

It was hard to describe how they fought, exactly, in human terms, but they did.  Right up until one of Skultech’s three-fingered hands wrapped around Danny’s ankle and his shadow vanished.

He, breathing hard and falling, remembered what it was to be human.  To be vulnerable.  His shadow came back to him, flickering.  He came back to himself.  

There was a darkness that was himself, and he was so relieved.  Why?  How often had he wanted this gone?  But he was whole, and like that he was half, and-

He’d gotten distracted.  

Skultech had surrounded him, a hunting ground strobed with lightning.  This kind of fight was an oddity to both Skulker and Technus, this kind of movement, this kind of strategy.  Danny began to doubt that his earlier plan would work.  

What was a library but another kind of forest?

With only enough warning for his self to wrap around him protectively, Skultech yanked him down into the Dream.  The pale seaweed threads of human consciousness gave way to the dark and the other.  He fell to the floor of a midnight palace and rolled to his back, coughing up not-water from the idea of his lungs.

Here, said Skultech, in something that wasn’t quite language.  The True Voice.  Danny had seen people fall to their knees when the others used that.  Had seen sane men turn into blind faith worshippers.  Had heard lies that became true in the speaking, or near enough that it didn’t matter.  

He had never quite managed to speak that way himself, no matter Sam’s cajoling.  

Danny managed to open his eyes.  He did not come to the Dream often, no matter how much it called to him.  Both his halves agreed, here, where every place was also a person, it was dangerous even in the shallows.  

The ceiling was covered in layers upon layers of spiderwebs, and he did not like what that meant.  Skultech was nowhere to be seen.  

He pulled himself up and got to his feet.  

The floor beneath him was glass.  Beneath that was clockwork, but the gears were galaxies and solar systems, the springs were entropy and enthalpy, and the chains were the laws of physics themselves.  Clockwork.  It was...  It would do, as a name.  

The distant sense of amusement was disturbing.  

Danny looked around.  He needed a way out, a way back up, to where he could leave the Dream.  

Why did Skultech bring him here?

Spiderwebs and gears.  Symbols of control, of interconnectedness, of carefully laid plans.  Was he stuck in a web he couldn’t see?

He spun, slowly, trying to see if he could see any doors or other openings.  Something flashing, moving, in the distance caught his eye.  His first instinct was to move away, but...

But it was like he was being drawn in.  Like he couldn’t turn away.  It was a mirror.  A window.  

It showed him himself.  At first, a hundred paces away, just himself, as he was, but then at pace ninety-nine it changed.  Mirrors did that, in the Dream.  Everything did that, in the dream.  

Time sped up.  The mirror reflected not just light, but sound and feeling.  He could see himself, his shadow, and-

He felt it when all the little Loves that kept him tethered to his humanity snapped, the lives they were anchored to burning up as they met their deaths.  He screamed and heard it echoed back to him a thousand times over.  

He could not stop walking.  He could not stop watching.  Ninety steps away.  

His shadow in the mirror was wild.  Unbound and grieving.  Flesh and blood and bone existed, but his two part mind was unbalanced and divided from itself.  He sought aid from the only other like himself and received a knife, received Hate to replace love and at seventy-five steps he watched as what he had once been embraced Vlad and devoured him whole, eating and becoming everything that made him him.  

The shadow unfurled, hungry and seeking.  The memory Love it once had and the Love it had desired for so long driving it onward and outward, the center pulsing like a diseased star.  Seventy steps.  It had eyes like constellations.  

The mirror showed the Dream, now.  Veins of sickness wound through the garden of human thought, through the tangled vines and twisted paths.  What it found did not satisfy, and it sought more, and more, delving deeper.  Sixty steps, then fifty.  

It ate at the best of people, of others.  The singers fell silent.  The doctors could no longer heal.  The kind became cruel.  

Darkness fell.  Then war.  The shadow ruled all from its misery.  

It was not enough.  

Forty steps.  It’s eyes met Danny’s.  It knew he was here, knew he was watching.  It began to speak in its True Voice, and Danny could not cover his ears to keep it out.  

It spoke of the things it had done, of the things it would do.  Danny watched as it carried out its plans, and even more.  It spoke of how it, he, was Danny, and all this destruction, all this suffering was wrought by his own hands.  It spoke of Love Danny did not cherish sufficiently, of fragility, of how it was determined to Be rather than Be Not even though its every moment was loneliness and Hatred to the point of agony.  

Danny’s ears were bleeding.

Thirty steps.

It spoke of how it would hurt Danny, in particular.  How it would rend his shadow, wound so there was no hope for him to escape his fate, even with foreknowledge of it.  It spoke of how, with Danny watching, the mirror was a window, was a door it could reach through and Danny saw it reaching.  

Saw it reaching out and in and towards now and those that he Loved, those that he cherished and Danny would have pushed himself to run but he couldn’t stop walking.

Twenty steps.  It could make itself look like Danny, and even though it was wrong, Danny was wrong too, he was so, so, so, wrong and his wrongness was going to get them killed.  It was going to get everyone killed.  

They were looking at it, not him, speaking with it, not him.  His darkness was covered.  With it, these things were like staring at the sun.

It tore away the protections he had so painstakingly layered over those he Loved.  

Ten steps.

He saw his parents with a bomb made by their own hands, one that would devastate the Dream for miles around, killing anything that dared to imagine, the culmination of their work.  Nine steps.  He saw Mr. Lancer writing lesson plans with his own blood, each sentence less English than the last.  Eight steps.  He saw Sam with the ritual knife, her smile full of blood and sacrifice.  Seven steps.  He saw Tucker clawing out his eyes, surrounded by computer screens flaring with symbols humans were never meant to use.  Six steps.  He saw Jazz-

He saw Jazz notice.  

Five steps.

He could have wept.  

She armed herself with stories and legends and saltwater and truths that made Danny seize and the fact that this thing was not her brother.  Four steps.  

He watched her confront it.  

Three steps.   

He watched it toy with her, her machinations only delaying her doom.  

Two steps.

He watched it k-

One step.  

No!

For the first time, he screamed in his True Voice.  His fist snapped out, striking the mirror dead center.  It shattered.  

Was that enough?  Was he in time?  He- He couldn’t feel them.  He couldn’t-  They couldn’t be dead.  They couldn’t be gone.  

He dropped to his knees.  The shards of the mirror glittered up at him, calling him.  His hand shook as he reached out and picked one up.  Slowly, he raised it to his lips.  He opened his lips and as soon as the shard was even with his teeth, he bit down, the glass crunching like thunder.  

Already, he was reaching for another piece.  He swallowed.  His hands went out, nails scrabbling along the floor in his hurry.  Mirror shard after mirror shard was shoved into his mouth and choked down.  

There was something around his neck.  With one of his many hands he reached up, feeling up his chest to throat.  There was a collar there.  It felt like control, like ownership, like Love.  

Something liquid dripped from his eye.  

Even as he gagged on glass, two of his hands, his human hands, explored the circumference of the metal piece.  There were delicate fractal patterns on the surface that had double on the interior.  As his fingers pressed down on them, they in turn pressed on the skin of his neck, sending pleasant curls of thought down his limbs.  

His questing fingers found the collar’s lead.  It was at the same time, like the spider silk above and the clockwork chains below.  Flexible.  Strong.  Indelible.  It was as inevitable as gravity that he should Be Loved and Love in return.  

He licked the last powdery pieces of mirror off his fingers and his extra arms slowly evaporated back into the Dream as if they never were.  

Who would Love him like this?  Love him to the point that it manifested in the Dream like this?  The answer was all around him, was inside him, as his heart echoed back the Love as best it was able, but he could hardly believe it.  

The sound of footsteps on the hard floor jolted him out of his reverie.  He looked up and met the red eyes of Clockwork’s avatar.  

It had the appearance of a blue-skinned man wearing a cloak and festooned with symbols of time.  A few long white hairs peeked from beneath its hood, and a painful-looking scar laid over its eye.  

For a moment, Danny was stunned, because this was a true avatar, an extension of Clockwork himself, not a human hollowed out for use as a vessel.  For someone as powerful as Clockwork had to be to be so vast in the Dream to bestow such attention on Danny-

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that rolled off his tongue was blood.  Shame crept up his cheeks.  He didn’t know if it was his use of his True Voice when destroying the mirror, or consuming all those shards afterwards, but his normal voice was gone.

Shh, soothed Clockwork’s avatar, gloved hands cupping Danny’s cheeks and forcing his lips closed.  You need not speak, child.  Those who love you will know your intent.

Danny nodded slowly, beginning to feel dazed.  He remembered the scenes in the mirror.  Remembered what the shadow-him had done.  His fingers bent around the lead- it was almost as thick as his wrist- and looked up at Clockwork’s avatar.  

Clockwork could strike him down, now, could destroy him so completely that even the merest memory of him was gone, and he would not care, because he would know it was done out of Love.  

The lead shivered against his palms and grew.  

No need, said Clockwork’s avatar.  You have devoured your destiny and become free of it.  

That sounded reasonable.  The avatar brushed a thumb across Danny’s lips and smiled.  

You have given yourself fangs.

Danny blushed again.  He hadn’t meant to.  

The avatar released Danny’s cheeks to reach for his hands, arranging them in Danny’s lap and rubbing circles into his palms.  Then the avatar gently brought Danny’s attention to the door in its chest.  

The door was glass.  Beyond the glass laid an approximation of a heart made of the same elements as what laid beneath the floor.  A metaphor for Clockwork’s heart, Danny guessed, though what laid in the avatar’s chest couldn’t be anywhere near as grand as the real thing.  

The avatar nodded, and then leveled a gloved finger at Danny’s own chest.  He looked down.  

There was a door, there, too.  

His breath caught in his throat and he tried to scramble away, some still-human part of him objecting strenuously to whatever was going to happen.  

All at once, the whole of Clockwork’s attention turned in on him, and for an infinite moment of time he was held in a perfect embrace.  His thought from earlier returned.  Anything, and he would not object, because it was done out of Love.  

His edges, usually so sharply defined, even in the Dream, went fuzzy, almost blending with his surroundings, those surroundings being Clockwork.  

The avatar reached for Danny’s door and opened it.  It hurt, but not as much as he thought it would.  Within, laid his heart. 

The surface, the shape, of it looked human enough.  The veins and arteries were all in the right places.  The atria and chambers all looked to be the proper sizes.  It beat an even rhythm.  

But inside it was as black as night and something like a star twinkled in its depth.  

It was... odd, how closely it resembled Clockwork’s galaxies while being at the same time so different.  

Clockwork’s avatar opened the door to its own chest, pinning it to his cloak, then he reached into Danny’s chest.  

There was the pain he had been expecting, radiating from his core to the very tips of his fingers and toes.  If he were not held immobile by the sheer force of Clockwork’s regard, he would have arched backwards and screamed.

Methodically, the avatar cut and tied off every one of arteries, veins, and nerves that led from the rest of Danny’s body to his heart.  Finally, the heart excised and cradled in its hands, it drew back.  

Danny should be dead.  The Dream did not follow the same rules as the reality he had been born into, but his mind would not let go of the fact that he had no heart.  He should be dead.  

The avatar inserted Danny’s heart into its chest, next to its own, and closed its door.  Slowly, the image of Danny’s heart faded into metaphor as it sunk down into the deeps to nestle next to Clockwork’s true heart.  

Danny understood, then, that from this moment on, Clockwork would decide the direction of his heart, would determine who he Loved and who he Hated.  If he should Love or Hate.  Danny rather doubted Clockwork would let Danny do anything so damaging as Hate.  

I shall keep it safe for you, said the avatar, something more profound behind its words that might have been Clockwork himself, until you are old enough to protect it on your own.

Danny understood, too, that although this promise was not a lie, he would never be old enough to reclaim his heart, no matter how much time passed or how powerful he grew.  Clockwork’s Love and protection would keep both him and it safe, young, fragile.  How could it do otherwise, when time itself would flow around him?  When Love would keep him anchored to one form?

Clockwork’s attention relaxed, then, and Danny could move again, curling around the gaping hole in his chest.  The avatar ruffled his hair and, with his other hand, held something out to Danny.  

Six paired sets of life and death glimmered against the lavender of the avatar’s glove.  Danny recognized them.  They belonged to the people he Loved.  He had not realized he Loved Mr. Lancer, but he could see now that it was true.  

Moving slowly, as if underwater, Danny held his cupped hands beneath the avatar’s.  His breath caught as the avatar tipped the lives and deaths into his hands.  

So precious.  He brought them down to his lap and, with painstaking care, began to peal the deaths away from the lives.  Each death he ate, consuming it and breaking it down into nothing.  Each life he placed in the hollow that had once housed his heart.  

Like this, they would not die, they would not leave him.  They would be with him, always, just as he would always Love them.  

Exhaustion hit him all at once, and he slumped forward to rest his head on the Avatar’s shoulder.  It laughed, lightly, and helped him close the door in his chest.  Then, it took a heart-shaped padlock from within its cloak and threaded it into the latch of Danny’s door.  The click as the padlock closed echoed off the floor and distant walls.  

With a kind of detached curiosity, Danny watched as the edges of the door, latch, padlock and all, melded into his skin and vanished as if they had never been there at all.  He knew that he would not be able to find the door again without help, and that, even then, to open the door he would need the padlock’s key.  A key he had not yet seen.

But what reason did he have to open his chest?  Others might have cause, those who wanted to hurt him, or those that he Loved.  This was another protection, another way to keep him safe.  

This time you devoured your destiny, said the avatar, petting him.  The sick futures have been cut away.  Next, we shall remove the presents where you Are Not.  After that...  The sentence trailed away in a buzz that made Danny’s thoughts go quiet.  

The avatar began to do something that could only be described as singing even though neither voice nor sound were involved.  It was a lullaby, and Danny felt himself become even heavier and softer than before.  He curled into the avatar’s side, feeling small.  The pain of his missing heart eased itself into something more bearable.  The threads of love that kept him from becoming a monster wound tighter around his limbs and sewed themselves deeper into his skin.  

His eyes drifted closed.  

When he woke, he was in his bed, in Fentonworks.  He blinked several times at his ceiling, and leapt to his feet only to be waylaid by dizziness and static across his eyes.  He brought a hand up to his neck, half expecting to feel metal.  

He didn’t.  

He shifted, pressing two fingers against an artery.  No pulse.  He switched his grip to his wrist.  Nothing.  

Right.  No heart.  

No heart but six lives and-

He stumbled out of his room and started banging wildly on her door.  Jazz threw it open and froze.  

“It’s really you?” she asked, voice quivering.  

Danny opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.  It didn’t seem like Jazz really needed a verbal response, because she threw herself at him, enveloping him in a hug.  

“I was so scared,” she whispered.  “The- the not-you-” She sucked in a shuddering breath.  “Everyone was dying, and then- and then it was just-  It was like a dream.  Like it didn’t happen.  But you were gone.”

Danny nodded, even though she couldn’t see him.  

“I’m so glad it’s you,” she said.  “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Her love, so tenuous and slender compared to Clockwork’s, but no less genuine, wound around his wrist.  He hugged her back.  

If he had been able to speak, he would have said, Me, too.  

[capituloperdido1]

Traitor Pt 3 (Final)

Hello everyone!

So happy that you guys liked my little story, i am hoping to write much more in the future. So please let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to read. Here is pt3 and last part of the Traitor fic. There is a 'prequel' and it is very angsty, if you guys want that as well let me know.

Enjoy!

It had been three days, three days without seeing Azriel. He didn't show to practice, neither he looked for her in the library.

Coward, coward, coward

She was so mad, how was saying sorry so hard for him?

Or was he embarrassed that he lost to her? no, Azriel would never be embarrassed about that. He was just too afraid to face her.

Or maybe he didn't care, maybe he wanted to fix things with Elain and not her.

Yeah, that might be the answer.

That afternoon Nesta had asked her to come over to the house of wind and stay over with her while Cassian was away in a mission. She climbed the stairs of the library, while preparing to be in the same house as Azriel.

He was not talking to her, fine, she would not talk to him.

Nesta was waiting for her at the door, "please don't kill me, please, please". She said while grabbing Gwyns bags, "my sisters came over for dinner and have not left, i can kick them out but we have to wait a bit for Rhysand to leave Nyx at Amren's"

She smiled

Perfect this night has started perfectly.

"Of course, yeah no problem."

They arrived at the room, and Gwyn felt panic rising to her throat at the sight of the middle Archeron sister. She was probably pissed at Gwyn for all that had happened, she probably hated Gwyn because of it.

"Hi Gwyn!" said Feyre.

"Feyre" she bowed, "thank you for having me".

Elain looked at her, smiled, and kept talking to Feyre.

Well, that's better than the slap she had expected.

She sat besides Nesta and prayed that her High Lord would come soon.

------

An hour past, and the four women were tangled in a conversation about wine when a knock came at the door.

Gwyn felt a tug at her chest; he is here it seemed to say.

Fuck.

"Im sorry to interrupt ladies" a breathy voice said, " i am here for my high lady and her sister". She turned around and faced the male speaking, he wore rather casual clothing compared to the illyrian leathers. His black tight shirt and cargo black pants accentuated his muscles, and his hair was messier than usual.

His eyes landed on hers, and his slight smirk fell.

Oh, great. I'm not happy to see you either, she thought.

Elain stood and quickly walked towards Azriel, but he did not break Gwyns stare; not even while he grabbed the arms of both women and they said bye to Nesta and her.

He looked at Nesta, "is this... a sleep over?" he said softly.

"yes, and you are very much not invited" Nesta responded.

He smirked, "ill be back" he looked at Gwyn.

"Don't leave" he said.

She looked away.

"Please" he said to her, his voice pained and desperate.

And with that, he left.

Nesta smiled and crossed her arms. "You planned this didn't you?" Gwyn asked her sister, "mhm, he helped me get a mate i help him find the balls to talk to you" she answered.

-----------

Gwyn was not one for drinking, but waiting for Azriel to come had made her so anxious that she had considered asking the house for Cassian's oldest bottle of Whiskey to drink it all by herself. Instead, she had been served a big, fat piece of chocolate cake; accompanied by water.

Nesta was in front of her, watching with admiration as Gwyn devoured the cake.

Mother, she loved chocolate.

The tug at her heart began once more, the feeling of comfort and hurt that Azriel brought upon her growing as the seconds flew by.

"He is here" she whispered to Nesta, "I am not ready to face him".

"He is not ready to face you" she answered.

A soft knock came at the door, and the creak of the wooden door was the most terrifying thing Gwyn had ever heard.

"Shadowsinger" Nesta said, "you are just on time". Nesta stood, grabbed Gwyns hand and squeezed it softly, "i need to go fix some paperwork for Cassian, could you please stay with Gwyn while i come back?"

Really Nesta? Thanks.

"Sure, thank you" he answered.

-----------

She did not feel Nesta leaving, neither she looked up to see where Azriel stood in the room. Her hands had become the most entertaining thing in the world at that moment, and nothing would change that.

"Gwyn" he called.

She felt him getting closer, and it took all her will not to jump to his arms.

He stopped, "please, look at me".

"No" she said, "you don't get to demand for me to stay, for me to talk to you, for me to look at you".

Cauldron was he clueless, did he not have a sense of communication?

He is trying, the voice of her heart seemed to say.

"I know that, but... I need... I need to see your eyes" Azriel said. Slowly, she felt him kneel in front of her; not too close as to startle her, but close enough that she could feel the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar filling her nose.

"May i touch you?" He said, stretching his hand towards her.

Yes, please

She only nodded softly.

His hands grabbed her chin and lifted it to face him. "There you are" he smiled, "there they are". His eyes looked deeply into hers, as if he was trying to memorize each feature in them; he seemed... desperate to memorize her. As if what he was about to say would make her disappear from his side forever.

" I have a whole speech prepared" Azriel said, "but i don't think you're the type to want to hear rehearsed words, so let me give it a try..."

Quieter than she had ever heard him, Azriel began " I have always been alone, the shadows and the dark being my best friends..."

"I only knew friendship and love when Rhys opened his home to me; but even as my brothers and i grew, i still felt alone.... empty. I longed for something that would be entirely mine, something that no one else would share, something i would never have to part with." His voice breaking, Azriel inhaled and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"I met Mor when she was very young, she was such a happy girl; always teasing and playing, always happy even with the shitty family she was born into. She lightened my days, she gave me a reason to wake up in the morning; i began to love her before i expected" his voice filled with pain he said, "and i loved her for five hundred years..."

"I thought she had to be my mate, because no one else would make me as happy as her; and i waited for five hundred years for the mating bond to click. Disregarding her feelings, her insecurities and fears; i pushed my feelings down her throat, hoping she would pity me enough to give me a chance".

His confession broke her. What kind of thoughts went through the mind of this beautiful man to say anything like that?

"Meeting Elain was different, i was finally able to help someone as broken as me. I had a purpose beyond violence. I looked forward to sharing time with her, i wanted push her to be better, to forget about that undeserving human boy" He continued, "once she began to get better, i realized that i was not the only thing grounding her. Her sisters, the wraiths, gardening, and even her mate gave her courage to keep going. And i am so selfish, selfish enough to begin loving her; demanding from her what she is not ready to give".

"The winter solstice that i tried to give her the necklace, i did it out of a desire for her to be mine. My thoughts were never about how much i loved and admired her, but rather that i deserved Elain, that three brothers and three sisters made more sense than what the cauldron had chosen".

Gwyn shuttered, her heart squeezing lightly at the words coming from his mouth.

"But i realized long ago, that Elain deserves to choose her own path; neither Lucien nor me are entitled to her, she should be master of her own destiny" He said, no pain noticeable in his voice. "I had to let go, for my sake, my court's sake; but most importantly, for her".

"I could tell you more about my mistakes, and i will, but i have to explain why i gave that necklace to you." He moved closer to her, their knees touching. "That night, Gwyn, the conversation we had made my heart sing; you changed my mood so quickly, and you didn't even know it. You looked, so free, so competitive, so happy".

"Then, after i left that night, i realized that i wanted to see your smile again; so i left the necklace to Clotho and asked her to bring you some joy in that lonely solstice night. And my mind pictured your smile once you received that necklace. The selfish being that i am, has kept that memory in my heart; selfishly locked away so that no one will steal it from me" He smiled and looked into her eyes, "and then you kept showing me so many surprising sides of you. No one challenges me to better as you do, no one wants to see me bite dust as you do. No one is interested in what i think about coffee, or what my favorite mystery novel is. You have heard my voice more time than anyone before."

"You have showed me many times that you're my only match Gwyn".

He paused, as if the words weighted on his heart as much as they weighted on hers.

"You are my best friend, the person i admire the most in the world. I admire your courage, your patience, your perseverance, your happiness. I love the way you show love to your friends. I love how much of a fierce warrior you are. And even though i made a mistake by re-gifting the necklace, i could not think of anyone that deserves to be pampered and loved as much as you"

He stopped, inhaled and touched the top of her hands.

The happiest feeling crept into her heart, her feelings were not one sided.

He saw her.

She saw him.

But his eyes did not show the happiness she expected, not did they show the same desire that burned deep in her.

They showed fear, sadness, longing.

"But with all that i have said, i know i don't deserve you. I have hurt everyone I've ever loved, i have always been so selfish. I have been looking for a bond so desperately that i was blind to what i had right in front of me..."-"I have avoided confronting my fears of being alone, of facing my nightmares and acknowledging how much of a monster i can be. When i look at you, how much you have given me; i regret every moment i have not spent loving you".

He moved his hands away from hers, looked at them and shuttered.

She realized then, unlike her, his biggest fears and insecurities were visible for everyone to see. He hated his hands, he believed them to be the proof of his monstrosity.

He did not know how wrong he was.

Finally, after what felt like eternity he said, " i am sorry Gwyn, i have not been the man you deserve; and i will forever regret that i lost you before i ever had you."

Tears falling down her cheeks, Gwyn grabbed his hands and placed them in her face. How much courage had those words taken? How much courage had even touching her taken?

"Az... you're so blind" she responded with a sob. She turned her face to his hands and placed a slight kiss inside of his hands, "these hands saved me, they are so precious... you are so precious to me"

She looked into his eyes, "i was hurt because i wanted.... i wanted you to be honest with me"

"I thought the necklace had meant that you thought of me" she smiled sadly, "for the first in my life i thought someone had chosen me, someone had thought of me first".

He looked away sadly, "i know that, and i am sorry".

She interrupted him, " I lied when i said i never wore it, i wore it every day, every hour" she laughed softly and grabbed the empty space in her neck that once held her necklace, "i even bathed with it".

He smiled. And damn if she wanted to kiss him now even more than ever.

"Once i found out it had been you who had gifted it to me, i ... finally was able to confirm my feelings towards you" Gwyn confessed. "I knew i fell in love with you the moment in the training ring when you admitted you had given the necklace to me."

Was she really saying this?

Yes

She closed her eyes and talked before her courage disappeared.

"Azriel i am in love with you" she breathed, "i fell in love with the man saw the darkness in me, and did not run away. The one that taught me to fight my nightmares way. The one that listened to me ramble about the silliest things. The one that made an effort to open his heart to me, and answered every question i asked him" she laughed. "After the first night on the training ring; i knew you would be my best friend, my confidant. Once i shared more and more nights with you, i couldn't stay away... i can't stay away from you"

Placing his hands in her chest she said, "i love you, all of you; the spy, the friend, the brother, the shadowsinger"

She didn't dare to look deeply into his eyes, afraid of what feelings laid beneath them.

"You are my center, you are my hope, my ladder to keep climbing up the pit of darkness my mind is. I will never be enough for you; for the pure and innocent heart you have. But if you give me a chance, i will treasure you for eternity". Tears scrolled down her face as she spoke, "I am not you mate, nor i am what you were looking for. But i will fight beside you every step of the way, because you more than anyone deserves happiness".

There. I said it.

She took her hands away from his, looked down and waited.... Waited for him to stand and leave, to laugh and mock her.

But he didn't.

He kneeled there, in front of her.

Shocked

Happy

.... Happy

He was happy; in fact, he seemed joyous.

A grin emerged in the male's face, bigger and brighter than she had never seen before.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled them up.

There they were, facing each other; looking deeply into each other's eyes when Azriel said: "the one that does not deserve you is me". He came closer to her, grabbed her waist and pulled her body towards his "my best friend, my love. I want you to be my entire world Gwyn".

He smiled and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. His face coming even closer to hers, "i am not worthy of your confession, your heart, much less your body". His nose touched hers, "but give me a chance, i will treasure you until the end of times".

She smiled, nodded and closed her eyes.

Warmth filled her body as Azriel's lips closed upon hers. Soft, warm and gentle. Moving in a pace that would not startle her, he grabbed her neck to pull her even closer to him. He took his time to explore her mouth, kissing every corner. "Thank you Gwyn, for choosing me" he said, "i have found my light where i never thought looking". He kissed her nose, her forehead and her lips. "Now that i have you" he said, not leaving an inch of space between their mouths, "i will never leave you".

-------

As they kissed, something golden and long appeared in Gwyns mind, her chest seemed to swollen at the sight of it. The golden string settling in front of her and pulling her to reality.

She flinched at the same time Azriel did.

Their eyes meeting once again.

And right there, she knew...

"Mate" they said.

[idy-ll-ique]

Winter Baby.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Requested: Nope

Summary: Bucky and Y/N meet when he goes to her library for the first time.

Author's Note: Hi there!! Whew, that was a long hiatus... anyway, I feel like some of you might enjoy this; personally, I'm not a big fan of my old writing but since I've not written anything new recently (marvel-related), I don't have a choice. So enjoy!

---

Y/N POV:

It wasn't easy owning a whole library alone.

But for money and livelihood, anything.

That was my mindset, I'm Y/N. I owned a small library in Manhattan, New York. To give you a more detailed address, it was on the same block as the Stark Tower, where the Avengers resided. 

Customers swarmed my library frequently, it had been well-known for decades. The thing is, it was inaugurated by my grandpa. It was then handed over to my mom and now, after her retirement, I handled the shop with a few of my friends. I loved the library with my life. 

Currently I was sitting on my seat at the reception, a Kafka book in my hand. When I heard the bell above the door ringing, I groaned in my mind. 

"Welcome to Twice Upon A Time, how may I help you?" I drawled, without looking up. When I heard someone clearing their throat, I looked up. My eyes widened slightly but I smiled at the Kennedy assassin, also known as Winter Soldier, or White Wolf, or, Bucky Barnes. 

"How may I help you, Mr Barnes?"

I was alone in the library, my friends having gone to eat lunch. I kindly refused, because someone needed to stay at the library. 

"Please tell me where the Divergent series is kept, doll," Mr Barnes questioned politely with a friendly smile. I stood up and led him to the fiction shelves. He got whatever book he needed, put the money on the counter and left. He said he'd return the book within seven days. As he left, I stared at the back of his head. 

To be really honest, I had a crush on him. I genuinely had a problem, I think, falling for the wrong person. First, my school bully (yuck), then Loki for a brief amount of time and now Bucky. As soon as I had seen him on the news, I was enticed. Obviously, I didn't tell anyone about my infatuation with Bucky. They'd judge. 

Once, I saw him in a café with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, laughing and having fun. That was the day when I realized I had actual feelings for the guy. My heart involuntarily fluttered in my chest, snapping me out of my thoughts. I chuckled, shook my head and continued reading Kafka. 

Bucky POV:

I stared down at the book in my hand, which was suggested to me by Nat. It was the first book of a four-book series. I entered my bedroom, running a hand through my hair. 

As I sat reading, my mind wandered back to the small, cosy library, with the cute receptionist. I think she was the owner, I wasn't sure. She was famous in the area. 

I did hear a lot about the bookstore, everyone had something promising to say about it. That's what made me go there in the first place. Now I know why everyone said that 'Twice Upon A Time is a great place to buy books!' One round around the bookstore, I fell in love. 

The library held all kinds of books, from educational to adult, fiction, non-fiction, sci-fi... I shook my head and continued reading Divergent. 

Throughout the book, I couldn't get the owner's face out of my mind. Her Y/H/C hair, eyes as grey as mine, small figure, her curves, her clothes... whoa.

"Goddamn it, Bucky!" I groaned to myself, snapping the book shut. I stood up, deciding to go back to the library to ask her her name. If I didn't, I knew I wouldn't be in peace until I did.

And maybe ask her to coffee, suggested my mind. I agreed. The library was quite close by, it took me five minutes to get there. When I walked in, I didn't see her anywhere. A guy was sitting on her spot. "How may I help you, Mr Barnes?" he asked, smiling. "Uh... you know that girl who was sitting in your spot an hour ago? Where is she?"

"Oh, Y/N? Wait." He got up and disappeared into the back of the library. I stood where I was, Divergent still in my hand. My hands started to sweat. 

Why was I so anxious? Maybe because Y/N was so cute. The guy returned, Y/N behind him. "Hello, Mr Barnes," she greeted with a smile. 

"Hi, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something," I implored, glancing at the guy who was watching us with a smile. He got the indication and departed. 

"Anything," she mumbled, perplexed. "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to have coffee sometime," I chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. 

"Of course, Mr Barnes, I'd be honoured! Shall I give you my number, so you can contact me?" she asked with a cute smile after being momentarily stunned. I readily handed her my phone. She added her number in and gave the phone back. "I'll text you," I nodded. "Okay, Mr Barnes, have a good day," she called out as I turned to leave. 

"Bucky, please." I gave her one last smile and left the place. I went back to the Stark Tower, only to bump into Steve on my way in. "Hey Bucky, where have you been?" he inquired with a smile.

"Twice Upon A Time," I shrugged, holding up my book. "Oh, the owner of that store is a really sweet gal, do you know her? She's so polite!" he gushed. He knew her too? Damn. "I'm taking her out for coffee."

Hearing that Steve smirked at me. "Have fun, okay? She's awesome, I'll be the happiest if you two start a relationship," Steve wiggled his eyebrows. I gave his shoulders a push, laughing. "See you, champ." We did a fist-bump and he left the building. I went inside, straight to my room. 

I smiled to myself as I started reading Divergent again. This time, I didn't mind having Y/N's face implanted in my brain. I read the entire book in 5 hours. When I finished reading the book, I gasped. That was such an interesting book, I wanted to read the second part! 

The next morning I borrowed the second installation of the series, met Y/N, went home, read the book and finished it within a few hours once more. That happened until I finished reading the series. After finishing the series almost 5 days after I met Y/N, I finally decided to ask her out. I couldn't stop thinking about her, she was... attractive. 

Y/N POV:

“Jesus, fuck-” I cursed when my phone startled me. Why would someone want to call me at midnight? Sighing, I picked up the call. "Hello?" I answered, instantly recognizing the voice on the other end. "Y/N, hey, I was wondering if we can have that date tomorrow."

"Oh." I checked the calendar, "Sure. Tomorrow's Saturday anyway, the library is closed on Saturdays." He dramatically heaved a sigh of relief, which made me titter. "How about 8 pm, we meet at the restaurant down the lane?" he asked hopefully. "El Diablo? Sure! I love that place! Bye Bucky, I'll see you later!"

He ended the call and kept my phone away. I stood up and stretched, yawning. I turned the TV off, picked up my phone and went to my room. 

---

“Where are you, Buck?” I was waiting at the entrance of El Diablo for Bucky, dressed in a sweet, green dress. It reached my knees and it was strapless. I normally didn't dress like this, I felt uncomfortable. My friend, Anne said I looked beautiful and I trusted her, so... When I looked around again, I saw Bucky walking towards me, dressed in a suit. 

I almost drooled, damn, he looked so handsome. His hair was tied back, a few loose strands hanging around his shoulder. His stubble seemed too perfect to be real. His grey eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on me. A smile bloomed upon his face as he walked towards me. With each step he took, my heart fluttered. 

"Hi Y/N, you look beautiful."

He took my hand and pressed a kiss to it. Such a gentleman! I smiled as both of us walked into the restaurant, Bucky's arm around my waist. Half the restaurant turned to look at us. Their eyes widened, because what was the sweet bookstore owner doing with the Winter Soldier?  Bucky and I ignored the looks and sat down at a table. Water was served and two menus were placed on the table. I didn't even bother. 

This date seemed too fantastical to be real. Never in a million years would I have imagined I would be on a date with Bucky Barnes. Yet, here I was maintenant...

When Bucky was done with the menu I called the waiter over and placed our orders. When he went away, Bucky turned to me.  "You didn't even pick up the menu," he teased. I shrugged and crossed my arms, unfolding them with a blush when I realized they attracted his attention towards my accentuated... ahem...

"I have been here 2-3 times before, I know my favourite dish from here," I chuckled, playfully glaring at him when he smirked at my blush. Both of us were  chatting until our food arrived. We talked about our favourite book series as we devoured our food. His favourite series at the moment was obviously Divergent, while I was an avid Potterhead. 

---

After dinner, Bucky decided to take me back to my house. As we walked down the lane, a gust of wind blew, making me shiver. "Cold?" Bucky asked instantly, taking off his jacket. He placed the jacket over my shoulders and I thanked him. When we reached home, I turned to him. 

"Bye Bucky, I'll see you tomorrow."

I hugged him, kissing his cheek in the process. When he pulled away, both of us grinned at each other. He left. After the first date, Bucky and I hung out at the library a lot. Sometimes, he even bought Steve and Sam along, who were fun to hang out with, too.

Eventually, a few weeks later, Bucky asked me out again. This continued for 3-4 dates. As the 4th date ended with us standing outside the door to my house, Bucky turned to me. "Hey, Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

I froze and looked at Bucky, who was smiling at me, confident. “Wasn’t that already established?” I smirked, crossing my arms. “I thought so too, just wanted to make sure you knew.” I laughed loudly at his joke and a lopsided grin bloomed on his face.

My laughter abruptly stopped when he pulled me close to him, cupping the back of my head and holding it close to his shoulder with such intensity that I melted against him. When the hug felt too elongated, I tried to pull away. Bucky surprised me again when he gently pressed his lips to mine in a perfect kiss, according to me. 

I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms went around my waist, pulling me closer. “I wanna tell you something, don’t be mad,” he murmured against my lips. I hummed in a questioning tone, my mind still reeling in from the brilliant kiss.

“I love you. I know it has been only 4 months since we’ve known each other but I’m sure I love you. I’m not expecting you to feel the same way, but I wanted to get it off my chest. I really do love you, darling.”

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was flabbergasted. He loved me? Me, of all people? To be honest, I didn’t want to ruin this moment with unnecessary questioning, especially since I loved him back.

So I smiled.

“I love you, too, winter baby.”

“Never call me anything else ever again.”

“Deal, winter baby,” I chortled.

---

A/N: Please leave a like, it would mean a lot! Thanks for reading :)

[realcube]

rainy girl || kenma kuzome x reader

summary: soulmate au! kenma finally saw his soulmate in his dream but something doesn’t seem right..

songfic! rainy girl by andrew mcmahon and the wilderness 

tw// swearing, angst, reader death!, (she/her) reader, unedited lol

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘rainy girl, i can’t wait to meet you.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

A smile didn’t leave Kenma’s face that whole day, he had finally seen his soulmate; her beautiful (h/c) hair, her (s/c) complexion and the school uniform with a red tie which complemented her gorgeous figure - unfortunately he didn’t get to see her face though.

However, beggars can’t be choosers. He was just happy to see her, after all these years of waiting and being told that boys usually see their soulmate in a dream closer to the beginning of puberty and he’s a lost cause. On his 16th birthday he was even told by his mother to stop hoping for a soulmate dream because it was simply ‘never going to happen’ and she didn’t want him to be disappointed. 

Kuroo had his soulmate dream when he was 13 yet he wasn’t too infatuated with his soulmate at the time - unlike most teenage boys - but a few months ago he noticed a resemblance between his soulmate and a Brazilian bikini model and he would not shut up about it. What he didn’t know was that the model was in her 30s and it would be very criminal if she was in fact his soulmate; Kenma was aware of this though, he just didn’t want to be the barer of bad news. 

Anyway, more to the point, Kenma grew up around people who had their soulmate dream at a very young age so by the time he was 14, he was convinced that he’d never have a soulmate dream, hence he doesn’t have a soulmate.

So you can imagine the amount of serotonin and relief he felt after he woke up one day and he realised that he did have a true love out there and he wasn’t destined to spent the rest of his life alone. It was as if he finally knew what it felt like to be in love.

Now, he was impatient to meet her - no matter who she was, what she enjoyed,  what she dressed like, what her life goals were; Kenma just knew that he’d love her unconditionally.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘i can’t wait to hear your name, sing it to the skies above.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

However, there was a problem.

It was common knowledge that you’d meet your soulmate in dream where you are sitting underneath a tree, your soulmate would approach you and you’d learn their name along with their appearance, then you’d wake up.

But in Kenma’s dream, he was falling slowly towards the Earth with her by his side - he didn’t see what she looked like as the air resistance caused her hair to fly in front of her face and he didn’t learn her name either, all she said to him was, “I hate the rain.”  in the most calming, soft voice.

Kenma acknowledged it was a weird take on the classic soulmate dream as it seemed like he was falling through as endless sky, there was no rain in sight so he wasn’t sure why she’d mention that. He didn’t get to learn her name either but the comment she made helped Kenma give her an appropriate alias; ‘Rainy girl’, cute, right? He came up with it himself.

(’Rain girl’ was a close second but when he actually gets to meet her and he tells her about the little nickname, he didn’t want her to think that it was after a Yaeji song.)

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘Rainy girl, wash away my memory.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Curiosity got the better of him so he borrowed a book from the library about soulmate dreams to investigate the causes and/or reasons why his dream was different to that of others. 

And yes, he did try to google it but the people on WikiDreams used big, professional language which he simply did not understand - plus, if his mum sees that he is reading a book, she’ll think he is studying for a change. 

Also, going to the library to get a book was a good way to bail of whatever plans Kuroo had for the pair of them. It’s not that Kenma hated Kuroo, it’s just that the rooster-man was uncapable of shutting up about his soulmate and he would always make the most elaborate plan for ‘guy days’ with Kenma, all of which drained Kenma’s social battery so quickly.

Anyway, he skimmed the index page for a chapter heading which best suited his current situation, “Delayed soulmate dream, no soulmate dream, can’t find soulmate, undesirable soulmate, food soulmate, decomposed soulmate..”  Kenma read the chapter headings aloud, each situation sounding worse than the last - making him feel lucky that he was just a late-bloomer rather than someone who had to watch their soulmate get devoured by a titan during a dream.

“Ah.” He let out faint hum of success as he found a chapter which accurately described his circumstances, “Falling beside your soulmate.” It was the very last chapter in the book and it was very specific which reassured Kenma slightly as it must mean that lots of people deal with/ dealt with this issue, so it’s not like he is a one-off case.

Kenma flipped to the page listed and began mutter the words as he read because it helped, that’s just what he was used to after doing gaming streams, “A dream in which you are falling beside your soulmate to a differing destination is quite rare - out of 1000 dreamers, only 3 are expected to have a falling dream. Studies show that those unfortunate souls who have this sort of dream have a deceased soulmate they have yet to meet and unless they believe in the afterlife, the experience of falling next to their soulmate will probably be the only opportunity they have to meet each other..”

His words slowly drifted off and as soon as he processed what he had just read, he slammed the book shut. Beads of sweat started building at his forehead, his breath hitched and he actually felt his heart tear apart, “I-” He started, choking on his own words as he gulped, having to swallow the air to convince his lungs to take it in.

 “No..she can’t be..” He panted, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes both from sadness and the fact he stopped paying attention to blinking as his mind was focussed on the fact he received information that will probably ruin the rest of his life. 

 “She can’t be dead. She- she can’t be dead.” He repeated, pressing the book closed as if there were demons in between the pages - which was hardly accurate as he feared the news that lay inked onto the paper more than he’d ever fear any demon. 

“I loved-” He cut himself off, allowing himself to toss his head back in despair and let the stream of tear flow from his eyes, down his cheek and onto his red hoodie which he bought a week ago, along with 3 other hoodies which he got with the intention of letting you wear them whenever he met you in real life. 

“-you too much.” he whispered to himself, aggressively throwing the book across his room before going to bury his head into his pillow to muffle his wails. The worst part wasn’t the fact he was grieving the death of someone he never even met - it was that he didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘swimming through infinity, for you will be my love.’ 

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

If you asked Kenma year ago if it was possible to love and cry over someone you haven’t even met, he’d ask you to define ‘love’. 

Now, he was laying on his bed, eyes damp and tear-stained while desperately trying to read over the last chapter of his book over and over again in hopes that perhaps he missed something and his dream didn’t mean what he thought it meant. 

It was no use though, the book kept telling him that his soulmate was dead but he knew that simply could not be the case.

He resorted to the internet again but that far from helpful too; he couldn’t comprehend what most of the articles were on about and as for the studies, they just reinforced the idea that his soulmate was gone. For good.

At this point, all Kenma could think of doing was sleep. Sleep and hope he’ll wake up and realise that this was all just one, big, horrible nightmare. His soulmate will be laying next to him - alive and well - reassuring him that it was just a nightmare and nothing but imagination.

His closed the book, placing it on his bedside table and attempting to pull his blanket over him but it got caught under the mattress so it didn’t pass his ankles. He was way too tired to fix it so he simply glanced at his Switch, wondering whether or not he could be bother to do the chores still pending on his Animal Crossing Island like he usually did before bed.

Today though, a wave of sleep washed over him before he could even make a decision. 

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

 ‘sometimes when i’m falling in my dreams, i can feel you falling next to me.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Kenma’s eyes flew open upon the familiar sensation of the wind lacing through his hair as he fell through the endless sky, his back towards his final destination but he simply couldn’t bring himself to turn around because for now, he wanted to enjoy the sight of the clear blue sky and bask in the feeling of gracefully falling to his doom.

“Kenma!” 

His basking was cut short as he heard his name called from right beside him, so he whipped his head around to see who it was and of course, it was none other than the Rainy girl; his soulmate.

She was also facing him this time and her hair was tied up into a cute, messy bun so he could clearly see all the facial features he once missed out on. Her shiny (e/c) eyes which both had a slightly red hue to them, her flattering eyebrows and her tinted pink lips.

“Wh-who are you?” Kenma stuttered out due to his peace of mind suddenly being ruined not only due to the fact he generally got nervous when talking to girls but also since this girl in particular was his allegedly dead soulmate.

“(y/n) (l/n). I was supposed to be your soulmate but I think you already know why that can’t happen.” Her voice was soft, almost inaudible compared to the loud sound of air resistance burning Kenma’s ear - but he still understood what she said and what she most likely meant by it and the harsh reality made Kenma’s heart sink.

“Oh, yeah.” Kenma mumbled, biting his lip and keeping his voice low to resist the possibility of him bursting out into tears right in front of you - but apparently he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it as you immediately reassured him, “You can cry if you want, anybody would be heartbroken if they were in your shoes.” 

Kenma shook his head rapidly, unable to fight the tears which know spilled from his eyes, the ones which weren’t glued to his face being left in the path above him. “What-” He sniffled, turning completely on his side to look at you, thus he noticed the single tears resting on your cheek. “What happened to you?”

You looked Kenma dead in the eye, admiring his golden irises as you seemed to find safety in them - the scary part being that it might just be your last chance to do so. “Oh, nothing- well, I mean, it was kinda my fault; never walk home on your own at midnight in the rain, I guess.” You stumbled over your words, eyes widening at you remembered the event. 

Kenma’s blinked rapidly, as curious as he was, the sight of you being saddened from talking about it made him realise that he probably shouldn’t pry. “I am so sorry.” He muttered, averting his gaze back to the sky. “So- will I really never get to see you again?” He frowned at the thought, he wasn’t sure how he was able to become so emotionally attached to someone he had only seen twice since he was barely able to chat with his classmates whom he has known for years.  But with you, the words seemed to just pour from him mouth - as if he subconsciously knew that he was free of judgement, no matter what he said; you were his soulmate, after all. 

You giggled, the sweet sound which left your mouth being something that Kenma realised he’d  never forget. “Well, yes, you won’t see me again for a while.” You began, your attitude clearly improved from a few seconds ago as you now wore a kind smile on your tear stained face. “But I promise you, I’ll still be with you - that is, if you want me to.”

Kenma’s eyes lit up at your suggestion, at this point he didn’t care if he was with you in the physical world or just in spirit, he’d do anything just to be with you. “C-could you do that?” He asked, his heart skipping a beat as your soft hand wiped a tear from his cheek, slowly leaning into your tender touch.

 “Of course, anything for you, Kenma. Just please, don’t be sad for too long - I want you to live your life to the fullest! Could you do that?” You hummed, not sure if you were asking for too much as perhaps he now thinks that you were trying to vicariously live through him but that was not the case. Your intentions were just that you didn’t want Kenma to die was as many regrets as you - it was more like advice than a demand but your worried that maybe you didn’t communicate that clearly enough.

“Sure.” Kenma replied, the simplicity of the answer bringing you great relief. “I’ll try--what’s happening?” He tried to add to his previous statement until the speed at which he was falling slowed down until he had reached a complete halt mid-air. Fortunately, it appeared as though you had done the same. “I don’t think this is how gravity works.” Despite the abnormal nature of his current situation which piqued his curiosity, he still couldn’t bring himself to look down. 

You sighed, tugging down the skirt of your school uniform as you tossed your head back in exasperation, “I think you are waking up.” You turned to look at your soulmate one last time, shooting him another warm smile, “This is somewhat of a goodbye, but not really. I’ll always be there if you need me, Kenma.”

Kenma wasn’t sure how that would work just yet, but your charm made him believe wholeheartedly in every word you said. “Thank you, (Y/N).” A grin made it’s way onto his face, it was nice to know a part of you will always be with him. And although was presumably all occurring in his headspace, this encounter will is definitely not something he’ll let his mind forget. 

He slowly began to feel more light-headed and the hand which was resting on his cheek began to lose it’s density along with (Y/N)’s whole figure. Kenma knew he had to do/say something quickly but he had so much still left to ask yet so little time, hence he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind and probably the most important statement he could make, “I love you, (Y/N).” The word felt weird rolling off his tongue so smoothly and what was even weirder is that he meant it. 

“I love you too, Kenma.” 

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

‘i guess we’re going everywhere together, rainy girl.’

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Kenma thought as he woke of from the best nap of his life. 

“Oh, wait.” He muttered to himself as he looked at the time displayed on his LOZ clock sat on his beside table. It was 6 in the morning, probably the earliest he has ever woken up before. 

“I guess there is no harm in getting changed then.” He spoke, picking up an outfit on the way to his bathroom to have a shower. Talking to himself was an embarrassing habit he had developed after doing so many streams and he’s been trying to force himself to stop but now that he knew that you were with him, he felt less ashamed as it was like he was talking to you.

He halted in his tracks as he got to the door of his en suite, her words suddenly ringing in his head as he thought out his plan for the weekend; which would usually consist of: gaming, a livestream, binge eating or no eating, depression naps, watching TV, avoiding people at all costs and procrastinating homework.

“Live my life to the fullest?” He repeated to him, knowing full well what she meant by that but without a single clue where to start - he was sure that something in his daily routine would have to change though as at the moment, even he was aware that he was barely living. If (Y/N) saw his daily routine, she would - understandably - be disappointed. 

“If I were to die tomorrow, what would I regret not doing?” He asked himself in attempt to get the ball rolling with ideas for what to do today. He hummed in thought as he tried to imagine his mindset if he were deceased. As he thought, he realised that there was quite a few things he would’ve missed out on if he died tomorrow but one of them was arguably more important than the rest.

He strolled over to his bedside table, unplugging the charger and picking it up, immediately opening IMessage to send Kuroo a text.

Kenma sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning on his heels to go and take a shower, expecting to be able to get changed before he getting a response from Kuroo but surprisingly enough, as soon as Kenma turned around, he heard his phone vibrate behind him. 

Grabbing his phone, he clicked the notification and of course, it was from Kuroo. After typing in his password, he read the message he had just received. 

Kenma smiled, which was weird because usually when Kuroo texted him the last thing he wanted to do was smile. But now, (Y/N) gave him a whole new outlook on life in a few minutes. Now, he actually wanted to enjoy the company of the people that made him happy because if anything, (Y/N) helped him realised that life is too short; also, that he shouldn’t walk home alone in the rain at midnight. 

[forever-rogue]

Javier Prompt, if you're willing!! Javier comes home late from work to find the apartment empty, and begins to panic because his pregnant significant other isn't there. He's been nervous the last few months, and it's only gotten worse. When the phone rings and she's on the other end asking for him to come pick her up, he just imagines the worst possibilities.

I’m just...so...soft at the thought of dad to be Javi. Like...just imagine it... 🥺

I also realized that I read this prompt a little wrong and changed it slightly, but I hope you still like it!

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was the heart of summer, the warmest time of the year, and Colombia was in the middle of a heat wave. It was a stifling heat, the kind that was pervasive and deep to penetrate deep into your bones no matter how hard you tried to find relief. Warm mornings turned to even warmer afternoons which led to balmy evenings. Normally, you’d be able to handle it fairly well, as the heat generally didn’t bother you that much. But the not so little fact that you were almost eight months pregnant during all of this did not help. It only served to make you more miserable and it was almost impossible to find any sort of relief.

Javier, your boyfriend and the most Nervous Nellie of a father to be, was attentive to your needs, finding all sorts of ways to ease your discomforts and make you feel better. You were pretty sure that he’d read more pregnancy books than you had, and there was a small growing library of them in the living room bookcase. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, something you had been reluctant to do since you had no clue how he would respond to this surprise, he had shifted into dad mood. Sometimes you were sure he was more excited than you were - the way his eyes had lit up when you had first announced the news and shown him the positive pregnancy test was forever burned into your mind. It was a treasured moment that you never wanted to let go of.

All the knowledge he gathered and all the little tips and tricks learned along the way had been helpful more times than not. But unfortunately, nothing could help you in this heat - no amount of cold showers and drinks and fans seemed to help. You could barely sleep at night, finding it hard to sleep any position with your large belly, and Javi’s warm body to you. He seemed to run warm as it was and it certainly wasn’t helping now..

The one little bit of relief you did find, however, came in the form of the frozen yogurt that Javier had found by chance at the supermarket, thinking you might like it. And you had; you’d almost devoured the whole container in one sitting, and it seemed to cool you ever so slightly. One late night, when you really couldn’t sleep, you’d gotten a hankering for the sweet dessert, and but also something sour. Imagine Javi’s surprise when he woke up to go to the bathroom and found you sitting on the couch watching late night television and eating pickles dipped in the frozen yogurt.

“Oh honey,” his voice was tired and thick with sleep as tried his best not to laugh at the sight. You looked up at him, with a small, sheepish smile on your face as you took another bite of the crunchy pickle. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your before plopping down on the couch next to you, “pickles and ice cream?”

“Froyo,” you corrected him, waving the pickle in front of his face and offering him a bite. He shook his head before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and watching as you dipped the pickle back in and coated it in the frozen yogurt before eating it, “you should go back to bed, Javi. You’ve been exhausted, my love.”

“I couldn’t sleep...again,” he admitted with a small sigh, “and then I found you gone, and then I saw the light on. Why...why on earth are you eating that?”

“Your kid was hungry,” you shrugged lightly, looking pointedly between him and your large stomach, “and I was hot, so I figured this could solve both of my problems.”

“Hey, that is half your kid as well,” he snorted with laughter as put his hand on your belly, rubbing it gently. The baby always seemed to know when it was Javier touching your stomach, moving softly and kicked at the feel of his touch and sound of his voice, “they’re moving.”

It always seemed to amaze him, each time the same as it had the first time, his face lighting up with joy and sheer love. You tried not to get emotional, but with your raging hormones, it was hard to keep anything in check, and you felt that familiar prickling start at the back of your eyes. Putting a hand on top of his, you turned to give him a smile, a tear inadvertently slipping down your cheek. Javi gently reached over and softly wiped it away before giving you a sweet kiss, “honey, don’t cry, it’s alright.”

“I know,” you said softly, feeling the water works preparing to well up, “it’s just...I love you so much, and I’m so excited and happy, but right now being pregnant sucks and I want it to be over and I don’t at the same time because I’m so nervous to meet the baby, our baby, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I know you’ll be the best father, but I worry that I won’t be a good mother. I mean, look at me, I’m sitting here and eating frozen yogurt and pickles and crying.”

“Honey,” Javi put his hand on your cheek and leaned in closer to you, his lips brushing faintly against yours, “you’re alright, you’re going to be just fine. It’s just your hormones - I promise. You’re going to be an amazing mother - the best mother. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be in your position right now, or how it feel at all, but you are incredible for everything you’re doing. I mean, think about it, you’re carrying our child right now. Do you have any idea what a feat that is, how amazing you are?”

“You’re just saying that because I’m pathetic and pregnant,” you sniffled lightly, but he cut you off with a firm kiss, his hand going to the back of your heading, holding you close. It warmed you up completely, in a different way this time, one that was not unpleasant and overbearing, but comforting, “Javi...”

“I know,” he whispered quietly, “I love too.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice but a mere, soft whimper. He nodded softly, nuzzling his nose against yours. Of course you knew he loved you; it was just all of these crazy hormones making you question everything.

“Really, mi amor,” he promised, “you, and our child, even if you’re resorting to silly things such as eating ice cream and pickles.”

“Froyo,” you laughed lightly, feeling a wash of reassurance flood over you. It was hard, especially this far along to remain positive, but it was always easier when you had Javi. He was your rock, your anchor, and helped you keep a level head through all of this, just like you often did with him. The two of you made a good pair, and you hoped that would translate into good parenting.

“Froyo and all,” he corrected, “I love every part of you. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

On this particular evening, you were at home by yourself, boredom and warmth setting in as you couldn't find anything to hold your interest. You'd made dinner and saved some for Javi, who was working late. He'd told you when he left in the morning that it would he a long day, but a part of you had wished that something would happen and allow him to come home sooner.

But it was nearing ten in the evening and you weren't sure when he'd be back. He was on a stakeout with Steve, meaning it was anyone's guess. Feeling listless, you decided to go for a short walk. It would at least give you some exercise and maybe help to cool you down, should you find some sort of breeze.

You scribbled a note on the pad next to the phone, in the off chance that Javi would return before you came back. Perching the note up so it was easily visible, you walked, or waddled over rather, to your purse and grabbed a few dollars and your key before heading out.

It probably wasn't the best idea to go out, at night, alone, in the midst of everything going on in Colombia, but you really just needed to get out at this point. Surely Javi could understand that, right? But....perhaps he wouldn't.

He'd been such a mother hen lately, ensuring that everything was perfect and attending to your every need. While you didn't mind, not for the most part anyway, sometimes it was a little overwhelming. Being pregnant was enough of a chore, but having someone constantly underfoot wasn't any better. You loved him and he meant well, but sometimes you just needed a break.

Stepping out into the slightly cooler evening air, you let out a sigh of relief as you started your little trek around the block. Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck you; the supermarket where Javi had found your treasured frozen yogurt was close by. Making up your mind, you decided you'd pick up a carton of the stuff and a new jar of pickles.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When Javier arrived home, he was tired, exhausted even, and couldn't wait to get in bed and have you in his arms. It was late, later than he would have liked but his long day was finally over. He'd even come to the decision that he would be working fewer hours and staying out of the field when possible. It was going to a be a big change, but his main priority was you and your baby and he wanted to be around should anything happen. He had a feeling that you'd try and argue with him, but his mind was made up.

"Hermosa," he let out a long sigh as he tried to unlock the door, but stopped, eyebrows knitting together in confusion when he realized the door was already unlocked. Strange. Neither of you ever kept it unlocked, and you definitely knew better.

A tingle of nerves started at the base of his spine as he opened the door and walked inside slowly, unsure of what to expect. The television was on and the window was open, all signs pointing to the fact that you would be home.

"Honey?" his voice faltered slightly as he walked down the hallway and poked his head his head in the bedrooms and bathrooms, trying to see if he could find you. But you were nowhere to be found.

His heart started to race slightly as he reached for the gun in the waistband of his jeans and pulled it out, holding it at the ready. His mind immediately went into overdrive as a million horrid, dark thoughts appeared. Every single bad thought he possessed within the far recesses of mind were suddenly right up front.

What if someone had come and taken you? If someone had broken in? What if something had happened with you and the baby? What if, what if, what if?

There appeared to he no signs of a struggle, but he knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving. Your purse was still here and the smell of cooking lingered in the kitchen.

"Fuck," he said softly to himself, running a hand over his face in exasperation as he came to the conclusion that something had to have happened, "Fuck!"

He grabbed the phone, throwing the notepad face down onto the floor in his haste and quickly dialed Steve's number. Anxiously waiting for him to answer, he almost shouted in the receiver, "she's gone! I just got back but she's not here!"

It took Steve only a beat to figure out Javi was in distress about you and he tried to calm him down. Surely there must be there another explanation, "hey, hey, hey, I'm sure it's alright-"

"The door was unlocked, her things are here, TV on. It looks like someone got in here and just took her," it was hard to remain calm when not only could you possibly be at risk, but also the baby, "fuck! Has she talked to Connie at all? Does she know anything?"

He heard Steve mumbling something to Connie, asking her if you had mentioned anything to her or spoken to her. He let out a heavy sigh before returning to Javi, "Con hasn't heard anything. Javi, just relax, I'm sure there's a reasonable-"

"She's missing, Steve! She's almost eight months pregnant and you expect me to calm down!?" he didn't mean to sound as harsh as he did, but he was extremely stressed. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been this worried.

"Make whatever calls you need to and I'll be there to help," Steve hung up the phone as Javi nodded, trying to focus as he tried to make a game plan for how to find you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

After some time you'd finally managed to find your favorite flavor of frozen yogurt and a big jar of pickles, you made your way home, ready to dig in and wait for Javi.

The evening had cooled down further and you strolled back at a leisurely pace, not that you had much of a choice this far in, taking your time to get back. When you got into the complex and made your way to your shared apartment, you thought you heard some voices, and grew excited to think that Javi might be back.

Unlocking the door slowly you stepped in, mouth dropping at sight in front of you. Javi, Steve, and Connie were all around the kitchen table, pouring over what looked like a map, the phone next to them.

"Hey everyone," they were so immersed in their little discussion none of them had noticed you at first, "what's going on?"

Javi's dark eyes flicked up to meet yours momentarily before looking back down at the map. It took him a good few moments before he finally realized it was you, "honey! You're here...you're back! Where the hell have you been?"

"Yeah, of course I'm back..." you walked over to the table and set your bag down, "I live here? I went for a walk and stopped at the market for frozen yogurt and pickles."

"Why!?"

"Your kid was hungry as normal?" you said as if it was no big deal, "and I wanted to get out for a little bit."

"The door was unlocked," he come over to you and put his hands on your face, a clearly distressed look on his face, "the lights and the television were on and I could smell dinner, and you weren't home. I was so worried."

"I just left everything on because I was just going on for a little bit. And in case you came home before me, I didn't want everything all dark," your heart sank a little when you saw how upset he is, "I'm sorry, Javi, I honestly thought I'd be back before you."

"I was so worried! I thought someone had come and taken you or something had happened to baby!" he threw up his hands in exasperation. You knew he wasn't mad at you, he was just in general panic mode over anything related to you right now, "what was I supposed to think?"

"Javi, I left you a note where you would see it," you let out a small sigh as you spied the notepad on the floor, your note still face down. Making your over to it, you tried to pick it up, but quickly came to the conclusion that it was going to be a herculean feat. Connie quickly came to your rescue and swooped it up and studied it before handing it to you, "how did this get on the floor? I left it up so you would easily see it."

Javi came over and took it from your hand, quickly reading it over. He hung his head when he realized he must have knocked it over, "fuck. I must have done that and not noticed."

"If you'd been in the office I would have called you, my love," you put a hand on shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, "but I didn't know if you'd be there...so I just left the note."

He let out a soft groan before taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, "I'm sorry, honey. I just...the door was unlocked and I worry. Especially with everything going on right now and you're so close. I...might have overreacted a little bit..."

"You think?" you teased him, wrapping your arms his neck, holding him as close as possible, with the exception of your stomach, "trust me, if someone was breaking in, I would put up a fight and someone would have heard my screaming. If anything was wrong with the baby, I would have gone to Connie."

"But honey-"

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't I can't put a fight. Anyone tries to come for you or our baby, they're going to catch sight of these hands," you insisted, causing him, Steve, and Connie to break into laughter, "what?! What's so funny?"

"Hermosa," Javi met your eyes for a moment, putting his hand on your face as he gave you a soft smile, "baby, you're 34 weeks pregnant, you cry when you can't pick things up off the floor. You cried at a commercial last night. I don't think you're going to kick anyone's ass."

"Try me, Javier Peña, try me," you put your hands, and tried your best to give him a mean look, "I've got that crazy pregnancy strength!"

"I love you," Javi just laughed before giving a soft kiss, "so much. I’m so glad you’re okay."

"I love you too," you grinned at him, "sorry for worrying you. The one time you come early! If I had any clue I would have just waited. Sorry Steve, sorry Con. You got dragged into all of this because of me. I should have just told Connie and made her come with me."

"It's dangerous to go out alone," Javi reminded you and just pouted your lips at him.

"I just needed to go out and damn kid just wanted a damn snack," you laughed lightly at yourself, "now half the city is probably out looking for me."

"Try half the country," Steve corrected as you just looked at Javi and he sheepishly shrugged at you. He gave Connie a look and the two of them shared a nod, deciding it was time for them to go, "glad you're okay and it was just a misunderstanding. I think this should serve as a lesson to keep calm, right Javi?"

"Fuck off, Murph," Javi flipped him the bird but gave him a thankful smile nonetheless. You gave them a wave before crossing your arms over your chest and shaking your head at him, "I was worried, alright? Every single thought bad of what could have happened to you went through my mind. I would never forgive myself something happened to you, either of you, because of me."

"I know," you put your hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb gently over his cheekbone, "nothing will ever happen to me or this bean. At least not because of you, probably because I tried over my own feet, which I haven't seen in months, thank you very much."

"You don't know that-"

"Javi, I do," you insisted firmly, "you take such good care of us all the time. You do everything. I know nothing will go wrong, we're safe and sound, here with you.”

“I cannot believe I was this worried about my wife going out and getting ice cream and pickles,” he let out a long sigh of relief as he watched you with a small smile. He took your hand and laced your fingers together, “you are...something else.”

“Firstly - froyo,” you reminded him with a laugh, “and secondly - not your wife.”

“Not yet,” he beamed at you with a little wink. He had plans for that, big plans, but he wasn’t about to tell you that yet.

“Oh yeah, is that so?” you played it cool but internally you were bubbling up with excitement.

“Yeah,” he promised, giving you a nod, “but that’s a discussion for another time. Now why don’t get your...dessert? Snack? Whatever you call and we can go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“That’s what you get for panicking,” you traced you a finger down his nose before kissing it gently. He held you there for a moment, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you, Javi. Really.”

“I love you too, honey,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “even if you do stress me out.”

“Out of love.”

“Aye, dios mio,” he made quick work of scooping you up in his arms, making it effortless and like you totally weren’t heavily pregnant, “you’ve lost all privileges now. Time for bed.”

“Okay, but when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like a punishment, it just sounds sexy,” you giggled as he started carrying you towards the bedroom, “and that’s how I got pregnant in the first place!”

“Honey...”

“And don’t forget my froyo and pickles!”

[anotherhamiltonblog]

Foreign Touch ch 4

Chapter Summary: Adeline and Thomas finally meet and go out! What do you think is gonna happen? Will things go smoothly or will things end in disaster?

Warnings: Once again, I didn’t proofread. Sorry <3 cursing? FLUFF annnnd Alexander being an asshat.

Word Count: 1,850 (Give or take)

Previously 

(new cover! made by ME. I like it!)

Enjoy!

Y/N really didn’t have much time to process what was going on when she was being woken up on Sunday. After spending all of Saturday with a group of kids to help them study at the public library. Only to come home and help Alex with his speech and work on the posters. Y/N was tired, her Saturday turned out to be busy, it didn’t help that she stayed up texting Thomas. In fact, that’s how she fell asleep. Phone on the pillow besides her head.

“Y/N!” a voice yelled out and Y/N groaned in response.

Opening an eye, she saw the time before narrowing her eyes. Who the hell was bothering her at 8 o’clock in the morning on Sunday?

“Y/N! Why the HELL are you texting Jefferson!” the voice yelled out again and this time Y/N sat up.

Seeing Alexander standing beside her bed, with her phone in his hand. Y/N’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “I mean, I’m helping him with something.” She said slowly and shrugged.

“What? Why the fuck would you do that? He’s an asshole, remember? We all agreed on that!” Alex ranted off while Y/N got up and slipped on her house slippers.

As she walked out of her room, Alex right behind her. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“No, Alex… YOU said he’s an asshole because he beat you in the debate from History class in sophomore year!” she narrowed her eyes at her brother. Knowing full well their parents and friends were around and listening to them. “He never did shit to me. I ignored him so I wouldn’t put up with your bullshit complaining.”

“Now wait a minute….”

But Y/N never let him finish. “If the shoe fits wear it, Alex. You are the biggest drama queen I know. And I’m around cheerleaders all the time!”

Thanking her mom for the vitamin shake, she kissed her parents cheeks before turning around and heading back to her bedroom. Ignoring the boys as they tried to hide their laughter.

Y/N: ‘Wanna meet up to go over the plans?’ T. Jeff: ‘Thought you were gonna relax today? We can plan another day.’

Y/N found herself smiling at the text and stopped looking for an outfit to wear for the day to reply.

Y/N: ‘Well, Alex found out we’re talking. Got pissy… I need a distraction.’ T. Jeff: ‘Alright… stop by my house and we can plan. Thanks for this again.’

After they finished texting, Y/N pulled on some black skinny jeans and her black booties. A red tank top and black jacket over it. Deciding to add a colorful scarf along. With minimal makeup, just mascara, some concealer and lipstick (after brushing her teeth), Y/N made sure to spray some perfume.

As soon as Y/N was ready, she grabbed her purse and made sure to chuck her phone into the small bag before putting the strap around her shoulder. Placing sunglasses over her eyes, Y/N left her room and ignored the boys who were all sitting around the living room.

After leaving the cup she had taken to her room in the sink in the kitchen, she passed by the boys again to walk towards the front door.

“Hey! Y/N, where you going?”

“Oui, mon ange… why not stay with us?”

Y/N smiled at Hercules and Lafayette; she could always trust those two to want to hang out with her. “Sorry boys, I have plans.” She smiled waving. “But, lets get coffee tomorrow before school?” she raised an eyebrow and grinned at them.

Walking out of the house, to her car. Y/N froze when Alex called out to her.

“Tell me you aren’t going to see Jeffershit?” he asked, and Y/N had to bit down on her lip to not go off on Alex.

“Actually, I am. I promised I’d help him plan something. That’s what I plan on doing.” She sent her brother a fake smile before getting into her car.

“Oh, COME ON! He’s….” but Alex stopped talking when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Y/N glanced over and saw John was speaking to Alex. By the look on the boys face, he was not happy. Which made Y/N grin and nod to John who glanced at her.

Backing the car out of the driveway, Y/N was soon driving to the Jefferson’s house. The GPS in her car turned on and guiding her. Not that it took long, ten minutes later she was pulling up to a gate and she had to stop herself from laughing.

Pressing on the intercom button. Y/N waited. “How may I help you?” she heard a voice and with a sigh, Y/N leaned her head out the window.

“I’m here to see Thomas Jeffershi…. Uh Jefferson. My name is Y/N Hamilton.” She shook her head and waited a few more seconds before the gates opened.

Driving forward, Y/N finally parked in front of the house and got out. Rolling her eyes when she saw Thomas leaning against the front door frame with a house robe, slippers and his hair a mess.

“Jesus… you could have told me you weren’t even ready for the day!” Y/N laughed when stepping out of the car. Glancing at her watch on her wrist, it was just past 9:30.

Watching Thomas shrug, he grinned. “It seemed like you needed to get out of the house. Come on, breakfast is getting cold.” He nodded only to stand up straight as Y/N walked up the steps and finally reaching the front door.

“Breakfast? Trying to get on my good side, Tommy?” she wiggled her eyebrows and laughed at the scowl on his face at the nickname she called him.

“That ain’t cute. Don’t call me that, sweetheart.” He stepped inside and waited till Y/N was in before closing the door.

After breakfast, the two making small talk about what they did on Saturday. Y/N finding out that Thomas was at football practice almost all day, while she was tutoring all day before helping her brother.

“Can he not do his own speech?” Thomas asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, he does. But he has all of us over and hear it to make sure it sounds good… so it’s us sitting around, making his posters while he reads for six hours.” Y/N shrugged. The two laughed.

Once the food was devoured, Thomas showed Y/N around the house, only to stop at the backyard. “This is where I was thinking of having the party. Lots of space, my parents love barbeques, so we could do something simple, not too fancy.” He suggested, watching as Y/N had out a small notebook and pen. Writing down ideas, only to glance down and see she had done a simple sketch of his backyard.

The sketch was simple, it had the huge pool, the lots of space and the trees. “Right, so we could do something at night… we string up lights and balloons...” she spoke softly, walking around and looking at everything and down at her notepad. “Twenty-five years represents silver… so that would be lovely. It would be in December as well. So perfect for the wintertime.” She went on, not noticing the smile Thomas had on his face as he watched her.

After a few more minutes, she set down her things and turned to Thomas, grinning. “What?” she asked, laughing quietly under her breath.

“Nothing… it’s just. You are so adorable when you plan. It’s like you forget about everything. You get a cute smile on your face as well.” He shrugged, on to notice the light pink spreading on her cheeks. “Are…. Are you blushing?” he stepped forward and Y/N shook her head.

“Whaaaat… no.”

Gulping slightly, watching Thomas, Y/N snapped out of whatever trance he had her in and turned around. “Right, uh…” she blinked a few times, trying to think of what to even say.

“Come on, lets hang out a bit. Then I’ll treat you to dinner. You know, for being so kind to help me.”

With that, the two spent the next few hours laughing and watching tv. Talking about school, Thomas’ trip to Paris and spending a whole year there.

A little past 6:30 that evening, they agreed on a pizza place to have dinner at and left the house.

Never in a million years would Y/N have thought that she would spend a whole day with Thomas Jefferson and actually enjoy herself.

»»-————　♡　————-««

The next day when Y/N, Lafayette and Hercules were walking towards the football field, Y/N dressed in her cheer workout clothes. Which was just a pair of plain black leggings, a hot pink crop sports bra and her white tennis shoes. Her H/C hair was up in a ponytail. They were each complaining about the last class with Professor George Frederick. The big-headed idiot who thought too much of himself. That and his love for giving as much homework as he possibly can.

“It’s like he wants us to get held back!” Hercules was complaining and frowning as they sat down on the beachers and Y/N passing her bag and jacket over to them.

“It’ll be alright!” She laughed and winked at the two before jogging over to the girls. Only to turn quickly on her heal when someone called out her name.

Sadly, for Y/N, the grass of the field was slightly wet and as she turned, she slipped the slightest and was about to fall. Only the fall never came. Two hands grabbed onto her waist and her own hands grabbed onto a muscular set of arms.

With a gasp, eyes wide as she looked at the man in front of her. Her body feeling like she was shocked from the touch. Y/N watched as the skin where she had grabbed onto, had handprints that matched hers. The print slowly disappearing before her eyes and so her E/C eyes looked into the wide, brown eyed male who held onto her.

She focused on his eyes, which were darting back and fourth, shining in the sunlight. They were a deep, earthy brown- the intense gaze making it, so Y/N held her breath.

“Alexander is going to kill me…” Y/N said softly, a small smile coming onto her lips.

Thomas just grinned at the girl and he shrugged. “Not if he kills me first.” Was his response before he leaned down and captured her lips against his.

The dreams now made sense, why she kept dreaming of Thomas since he came back. The pull towards him whenever they were together. He was her soulmate, the one she was supposed to be with.

Cheering could be heard from the girls, the football team whistling and hooting. Y/N could even hear Lafayette and Hercules laughing and singing about how Alexander ‘ain’t gonna be happy now’ not that any of that mattered.

Wrapping her arms around Thomas shoulders, fingers making their way into his curly hair. Y/N pressed herself closer to his body as the kiss deepened.

Monday, who would have thought that Mondays would be Y/N’s new favorite day of the week?

                                                                                                   Next Chapter

Don’t forget to Like, Reblog and send Feedback! My asks are also opened and so is my IM! This was a rollercoaster to write.... I can’t wait to post the next chapter. 

Much love from me to you!!  ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

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[whoslaurapalmer]

finished rereading the raven cycle and you know how last year i said i could be pickier about the raven king but didn’t want to? this year i did want to! 

-i mean, i love the raven cycle. interesting magic, very comfy, would sell my soul for the gangsey.  -but most of this post is gonna be me complaining about the raven king  -the tl;dr of it all is ‘the pacing of the raven king is too fast and too slow at the same time. it’s not that i think it was terrible, but i don’t think it was written as successfully as the previous books. i think, because the pacing of the book is so uneven, that the balance between events, and perhaps the balance between the magic and the characters own inherent internal coming of age power, is off. oh btw i am considering reading call down the hawk but Have Concerns’ 

-noticed the ‘blue is calling gansey from the phone/sewing/cat room and gansey is calling blue from the bathroom-kitchen-laundry’ parallel which i thought was very, very cute. that has my whole heart  -also noticed a lot more of gansey’s whole person just constantly thinking about (or not-thinking about) his death  -BUT THEN THE PROLOGUE TO THE RAVEN KING SMACKED ME IN THE FACE AGAIN HOW COULD I FORGET THAT GANSEY LIKE. LITERALLY KNOWS HE’S GONNA DIE AND THE RAVEN KING IS HIM TRYING MAKE SURE EVERYONE WILL BE OKAY AFTER HE’S DEAD -I CANNOT HANDLE RICHARD CAMPBELL GANSEY THE THIRD MY GOD THIS BOY 

-canNOT overstate how much i really do love gwenllian.  -i love her so much. i love her so much  -same with malory. still love him. 

-okay i guess i appreciated artemus a little more -i think my thing is like. do i have a problem with blue being part tree? no not necessarily. but the pacing in the raven king is so uneven that i think what i dislike is how the reveal happened  -no i don’t know what i’d do differently!!  -every time i disagree with a writing choice in a book i try and think ‘now lulu, as someone with a Literal Degree In Putting Words Together, what would you do differently?’ which is a REALLY good writing exercise but mostly just ends up with me going ‘uhhhh. idk. probably have to backtrack a couple plot points and restart from there. no i will not elaborate.’

-last time i thought the raven king moved too fast and this time i agree but also thought it moved too slow?? -i devoured the first three books every time and then both times i read the raven king i kept putting it down because i thought the pacing was so off, so i was simultaneously interested and not interested in what was going on -too fast re: there were A LOT of characters going on, laumonier and piper and henry and neeve and plot points were just piling up and more like slamming together than converging (piper being laumonier’s daughter and henry’s mother being seondeok especially feel less like pieces falling into place than, oh look! ~a thing!!~), ALSO GOD NOAH NEEDED TO SHOW UP MORE (just like. a smidge more noah. would’ve put a lot together), and the speed of finding glendower/driving back/gansey dying/the epilogue -too slow re: somehow so many things are happening but nothing is happening in some parts, some parts dragged, people are just moving around with no real direct sense of working towards the end, blue and gansey were at lunch while adam and ronan were in cabeswater that one time?????????????  (-not that they can’t get lunch. but they had time to get lunch???????)  -oh i think the four of them maybe felt the most disjointed as a group in this book, which is again not necessarily terrible, but a thing  -and these things are just so disappointing because i thought the pacing of the first three books was so GOOD!! things take their time to happen but HAPPEN and i love that so much!!!!  -i do feel bad criticizing the raven king bc i know maggiestief was going through health problems at the time and it took longer than she wanted to finish. but i am still criticizing it because it’s still a very unsatisfying ending 

-reading this time i felt EVEN MORE FIRMLY that gansey should’ve been glendower, and even went so far as to consider, is the text saying he’s glendower, it’s just not explicitly stated?? because of all the parallels??? of gansey being old and young at the same time, gansey + his own magicians, the parallel between glendower shoving that guy in a tree and gansey wanting to do the same to ronan over the pig, the timelessness of the things gansey loves, the Power of command in his voice, a resurrection in the first place  -and i was going to just say, yeah, it’s there, until i got to noah’s chapter again. -i think noah deserved at least one chapter per book (and maybe more during the raven king) and that would’ve made an already tight plot even tighter, especially in the raven king.  (-i was also thinking that if gansey was glendower then something else would’ve happened when they found him, no i still do not know what) 

-big respect though to maggiestief saying glendower had to either be dead or evil and by that page number there wasn’t enough room for him to be evil -and big respect to the fact that, of course it’s not about teens finding a hero, it’s about teens becoming heroes (these thoughts also pulled from her twitter reread), finding glendower (alive) would never have been narratively good or satisfying  (-especially because it makes sense that glendower was dead all along -- if gwenllian was put to sleep wrong, who’s to say that glendower wasn’t, too?) -BUT, IT ALSO MAKES SENSE IF IT’S GANSEY  -but then you have like. the whole time it wasn’t even glendower. it was noah  -which is why i wanted more noah!!! to better lead to that!!!!!!! cause i feel like that kinda comes out of nowhere!!!!!  -the balance of the magical and the real is just off in the reveal i think  -man i don’t know. this is a lot of words. 

-i also appreciated adam’s character arc better this time, which was really nice. -but i still feel no great attachment to ronan and adam’s relationship  

-you know what. i want more mr. gray and maura -idk if i agree with him leaving henrietta. much like the previous paragraphs and my whole gripe with the raven king, it’s not terrible but i don’t think it’s done well, as well as it could’ve been, as well as the previous books  -also! more adam and persephone would’ve been good 

-i was rereading maggiestief’s tweets where she reread the books and i forget which thread this was in but she picked out one of the ‘character x says something that makes character y reevaluate every single interaction previously’ lines and she was like ‘that’s all these books are’ and i was like ‘YEAH MAGGIE. I FEEL LIKE I SEE THIS LINE EVERY SINGLE SECOND.’ and not necessarily in a good way  -sometimes you can reuse a line and it is a parallel or a connection. sometimes you are just reusing a line over and over. 

-she also mentions writing arguments from a point of, both characters are right, or think they’re right, or as right as they can be or something to that effect  -which i really like, and i absolutely 100% see in her writing  -and so i don’t know if this is just a me thing, because i have this obsessive need to backtrack through even the tiniest disagreements after the fact to calmly figure out where i’m coming from and acknowledge where the other person’s coming from, so while i like that every character comes from a place of ‘i’m right’ i feel like it leads to a lot of arguments left unresolved  -but i think that’s just me feeling like everybody should always talk everything out as much as possible so  -and like resolution doesn’t have to be a big dialogue acknowledgement  -but i still didn’t feel like it left a lot of room for these characters to really work towards change -they do change! but i wanted to see it more 

-oh hey so. did gansey successfully sell of monmouth? did ronan get a diploma anyway? 

-me: ‘thing’ is ultimately a vague, unspecific word and should be used sparingly in a narration, much like ‘interesting’  maggiestief: /flinging out ‘thing’ all the time me: you know what, though???? sure, good for her 

-i like henry. but he’s written terribly, the poor guy comes OUT OF NOWHERE too and should’ve shown up earlier more than his two times in blue lily lily blue, and adam and ronan’s super casual racism towards him is like..................................................................mostly unchallenged and really unnecessary  -if a racist comment is going to remain unchecked and unchallenged by the narrative and the characters, what does it accomplish? -especially because it never ever shows up again or showed up before -and gansey just kind of scoffs it aside and blue doesn’t even really truly call it out which is like, the amount of other things gansey will call out???? the amount of stuff blue will call out??????? AND THEY JUST LET THAT GO?????? -so, again! it’s not necessary!! it does nothing!!! it just adds unchallenged racism that has no place!!!!!!!!!!!!

-also reading this time i felt like maggiestief went out of her way to just not say what race blue was  -that shouldn’t be a thing you just repeatedly dance around and never confirm for your main character 

-so my library still does not have the ebook for call down the hawk but i am vaguely considering buying it to read it but also....................i don’t know -i did read the first eight chapters because they were online and i’m like. Intrigued but also?????? Concerned. idk. idk

-looking at it from a distance i have the same concern with it that i do with king of scars.  -do i think dreamer trilogy is necessary in the way that it explores things that are set up in the raven cycle and have big potential consequences? yes. the hunt for the ‘greywaren’, kavinsky proving that there are other dreamers, trying to make sure a dreamed thing can still exist if something happens to the dreamer, the possibilities and limits of dreamers, ronan trying to dream another cabeswater, ronan’s fear about what’s real and what isn’t/what he dreamed and what he didn’t dream, and maggiestief clearly loving writing ronan and wanting to write more of him -do i think those things are executed well in the dreamer trilogy? from what i’ve read about it, maybe not????  -especially re: ronan and adam’s character arcs????? -which i feel like, stupid and bitchy being picky about. -change and recovery do not happen in straight lines. but i think this kind of cycles back to the way she writes arguments with like, is it too unresolved to the point that no change, either positive or negative, is happening?  -ugggg also makes me worry that i just wasn’t Reading it enough or thinking about it enough  -my additional concern is that maggiestief should’ve maybe had firmer rules for what can and can’t be taken out of a dream  (-yes i suppose that limiting the very nature of a dream goes against the power of ‘the dream’ so it makes sense for it to be limitless BUT i feel like especially the dreaming of people is gonna paint you into a corner if you’re not careful)  -but i am also BIG worried re: the character arcs.  -also where ronan’s character arc is after the raven king, do i think he would do the reveal in mr. impossible?? i...........do not know  -well i didn’t think so AND THEN I READ OPAL which i kind of enjoyed, with reservations, which is mostly back to ‘is no change happening’  (-i love that opal is like, ‘ronan’s inner child’ or whatever it was and i liked her more this time around but last year when i read the raven cycle i was like ‘but what’s the point of taking opal out cause they just kind of shuffle her around?’ now, what was the point of taking opal out if they’re gonna put her back??? and actually almost COMPLETELY IGNORE HER in the short story????? there was so much potential there for her and ronan and it didn’t happen...........) -nightwash kinda just happened too, huh.  (-in general ronan bringing his nightmares back with him is like. God Perfect) -but this all really takes me back to maybe there should’ve been limits on dreaming -also after reading the first eight chapters, i’m like -i 100% respect maggiestief for not wanting to rewrite the raven cycle and not wanting to just write about henrietta, i absolutely do -but it feels so strange to read about ronan and adam and not read about gansey and blue as well?  -which isn’t TERRIBLE, but.  -but when i see like, single lines from or little sections i’m like ‘oh that looks like a good time’ because i do like the way maggiestief writes because a great deal of it is so rhythmically poetic and beautiful, but so is a great deal of the raven king while still being disappointing.  -i feel like i’m just gonna feel about it like how i feel about the raven king honestly -and well king of scars.......

-ANYWAY -might read it. might not. still going back and forth on this a lot. i was leaning towards, i’m gonna do it, but now i’m leaning more towards, i don’t want to, i want to keep the image of these characters where i like them, and right now i am aggressively combing through fanfic because i care a great deal about post-raven king trauma discussion and that’s mostly what i want at the current time

[lesbiancolumbo]

sending this on anon because i'm a bit embarrassed by it but thank you so much for introducing me to old movies, espec. the black and white films but old films in gen. (though i use this term lightly lmao). it's really helped me connect with my grandma- she didn't get to go to a lot of theaters when she was younger but later one when she worked she'd always spend her pocket money going to the movies. she also checked out a few plays apparently!! nothing that got big though LOL + she can't (1/2)

this message kind of hit me where i lived a little, anon, because i don’t know if you know this, but basically the entire reason i started watching more older, “classic” cinema was so i could bond more with MY grandma. my grandma was my best friend and my favorite person and growing up my parents did not give a shit about my relationship with media at all (like, they never showed me anything or talked about their favorite movies/tv shows at all) and that was fine, i devoured all 40 of the dvds in my small town’s library collection, but my grandma always took me to movies growing up. always.

and that never stopped when i stopped being her little baby, so in early 2012 we realized we were both interested in seeing the artist (and to this day i will defend it with my last breath and bite people who try to tell me it’s bad) and reader, we both loved it. oh my god, she would not stop talking about jean dujardin like for real, it was so cute. she kept saying he was like cary grant and i was thinking like idk who that is but yeah! and it was on that day that she realized she wanted to share more of these experiences with me, so every few weeks we would get together and i’d watch a “grandma movie” (her words) and she’d watch a “sydney movie” (admittedly some really stupid stuff but not once did she ever make me feel like what i’d picked was stupid - she always found something compelling about whatever i made her watch) and we did that for months. we watched stuff like vertigo (we both hate it ❤️), she showed me cary grant (love), we saw the apartment together (LOVE ❤️). and more.

anyways she passed away of cancer within the year, and we never got even remotely far enough into this project because she got so sick, but it had a huge impact on me and i think as i got older and went to college a big part of what made me start really turning to classic cinema was that i just wanted to keep her alive, i guess. she loved doris day, she loved rogers and astaire, she told me how sexy the from here to eternity beach scene is (grandma - you are RIGHT!!!!). we never got to watch citizen kane together, but i saw it in college for her. burt lancaster was for her. the musicals and grand romances were for her. rock hudson and cary grant and tony curtis were for her. (the noir is just for me - she hated them, thought they were depressing, but they’re sexy i can’t help it). this is a true story - before she died she told me to stop worrying about her so much because when she went to heaven she had cary grant and burt lancaster to keep her company until i could get there, so when i log on to this hellsite and objectify mr. lancAsster it is only because she raised me.

this turned into a whole post about MY grandma but anon, i think you are wonderful and a good grandchild, and to please hug her for me when you are able to. i’m also jealous that you watch columbo with her - i think mine used to watch him too but we never got the chance to talk about him when she was alive, sorry grandma :-(

keep me posted on what you guys watch if you want to (and my box is always open for recs and such) and i’ll be thinking of you both ❤️❤️❤️

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Telekinesis

Summary: a reddie x daughter where she has powers? maybe that when IT died his powers went to her in the form of like maybe telekinesis or sum and she tells them when all the losers are together and they don’t believe her at first so she shows them? kinda lame but i thought it’d be cool

Another book, another disappointment, another opportunity wasted. Mike’s library was empty, both from it being after-hours as it being located in Derry, and the only light Rachel has is the obstructed street lights, eluding to an eerie feeling of impending doom and death, a real life horror movie.

The lights inside the building had to be turned off, because Rachel’s parents, Eddie and Richie, were not allowed to have any clue that she’s in here in the first place. Unlike last time she snuck into the place and got nabbed on by the woman taking over Mike’s job while he’s away on holidays, she was now determined to emerge herself in every book hidden in the smallest gap until she found a solution to her problem.

See, coming to Derry, roughly two years ago now, had unveiled a lot of things about her dads. Those nights as a child fearfully disclosing that a monster housed under her bed, a little child’s imagination, but her dads reacted so fierce without them assimilating why suddenly made a lot more sense. Their monster, a clown hellbent on destroying their lives and everything they had built, using incomprehensible powers and abilities to do so, defeated on its own turve, wasted away on the perspective that no one wasn’t afraid of it any longer, withered away with one last trick up its sleeve. A last gift to the youngest member of the losers club.

Her hands curl around the pages with upmost precision, attentive not to rip the age-old pages from the rug. The typing circulates, switching letters in front of her until the words all lose their meaning and Rachel rests her eyes for a brief second. She’s been at it for hours, exchanging book after book, futile. The pages provided no more research then the internet had, the only search result being that of movies with ‘mutant powers’, or stories about the mentally deranged.

Rachel yells out in frustration, and the current book she’s devouring soars across the room, the book disintegrating and several pages scattering around.

‘Ow come on. But when I actually try to make something happen you don’t do anything.’

Discovering you have supernatural abilities, more specifically telekinesis in her case, is not as cracked up as the movies portray it, Rachel’s disclosing herself. After leaving Derry she didn’t even notice something off about her, hyped up on adrenaline, the real shock only showed when she dropped a photo frame and extended her hand, stopping it midair without touching the picture in any way.

She’d conjured the experience to a trick of the light, and paranoia embedded after Pennywise, but then the same thing occurred again but a few days later, a painting skidding from its nail in the wall and cracking the floor. The experience was bizarre, as Rachel vibrated with indignation the moment it happened, worked up on an assignment for school and as she reached for a pillow to muffle her screams of vexation, the painting bustled and sank down.

Then she knew for sure that something was going on. The first trip to Mike’s library, the only place Rachel could think off holding any of the answers she was desperate to find, forlorn as it might be, ended up unavailing, caught to fast to locate any books in the subject matter in the first place, but it made Rachel just more committed. So what if she’s technically not allowed to be in here? She’s sure that if she asked uncle Mike for his keys he would hand them over without a sliver of hesitation.

‘There has to be a book about this stuff right? How in the world did uncle Mike found the artifact from the 1800 if there was no book telling him where to go?’

Rachel sits up from her position on the floor, alleviating the strain on her legs, too unbothered and eager for information to keep going back and forth from the table to the shelf's and stretches, her joints popping and sliding back in place. She idly traces the spines of the ancient old books, pondering to herself about the titles.

She’d have to come back here someday, when she’s no longer pursued by the strange things she’s capable of doing out of the blue, because some of these books really peek her interest. But no book on the subject she’s looking for.

‘Okay please universe. You fucked me over enough already can you give me a break?’ If the universe is listening, it’s doing nothing but mocking her.

‘Rachel Maggie Kaspbrak-Tozier. What do you think you’re doing young lady? We told you to stay at the Inn while we cleaned up pops house. Now all the losers are are the hunt for you.’ Her dad’s low pitched voice criticized, belonging to a ticked off Eddie Kaspbrak, accompanied by Richie, of course Rachel can never only get in trouble with one parent, and Mike, the keys dangling from his hand.

Richie mounts the words; ‘Oeh someone’s in trouble’, face half pinched in stress and the other in pure and uninhabited mirth.

Fingers flipping her pops off, their own love languages, Eddie scowl turns up a notch, and Rachel abandons ship, changing her course and demonstrating her most conniving angel face.

Eddie and Richie near her, hugging her so tight her ribs creak, their labored breath only now picked up on by their daughter.

‘Don’t you ever’, Eddie threatens, dislodging himself away from their bear pile to survey Rachel with full conviction. ‘Do that to us again. Not anywhere, but especially not in Derry.’

Richie dots a kiss on her forehead, his arm capturing Eddie back into a clasp, the memory of Pennywise nearly swallowing his daughter whole tattooed in his brain.

‘What are you even doing in here? Don’t tell me my genes created someone who likes to learn? School stuff?’ Richie spits the words school like they leave a bad taste in his mouth, ‘Eddie, love of my life, did you have an affair on me?’

‘Richie focus, that’s so not the point. And no you idiot. I’d never do that to you.’

‘I’m hunting for a book’, Rachel informs, withholding part of truth as there’s no way she’s adding her problems on the pile of stress stacked upon Richie and Eddie’s lives.

Her pops trial only recently ended and her dad found a new job doing something he actually likes to do, and their lives are starting to clear up for once. Rachel was not about to add another card to the card house and watch it spring apart.

‘On what?’ Eddie asks suspiciously, one eyebrow creased as he observes his daughter, on the lookout for her telltale sign that’s she’s lying.

‘Witchcraft? It’s for school.’ Rachel trails off, her voice sounding questioningly to her own ears. Richie scrutinizes her, much more on guard and attentive then he gives himself credit for, but Mike, sickly sweet but  a little tone deaf on the vibe in the room says; ‘Those books are upstairs in my special cabinet because they kept getting stolen, do you want me to go get them?’

Rachel’s flicks her eyes to the ceiling, grumbling under her breath with all the time that went to waste, then glancing back at Mike and kindly nodding her head. ‘That would be great, thank you uncle Mike.’

As he takes off to find the books, Richie and Eddie exchange puzzling peeks, doing their silent communication that drives Rachel crazy not being able to figure out what they’re saying.

‘Why would you need to write an assignment on witchcraft? Since when is  that in the curriculum these days? Hey Eds we would have rocked that, we knew all about it.’ Richie inquires, excitingly jolting Eddie to go along with his story.

‘Since I got a new teacher who’s very interested in that stuff.’

‘Are you sure everything is okay? You’ve been acting weird for the past few weeks and I didn’t want to say anything or push you but I’m worried.’ Eddie asks, troubled trying to balance things in his life. He wants to keep prodding his daughter to know what’s wrong with her and to help her, but he’d rather die then turn out like his mother, and sometimes Eddie fears his lines are blurred.

‘Yeah, I’ve noticed it too’, Richie agrees, serious as the topic calls for it. ‘Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell us.’

‘No I can’t, you won’t believe me.’

‘Sweetheart, we murdered a clown eating little kids and feeding off their fears, there’s nothing in the world that you can say that will prevent us from believe you.’

‘Okay fair,’ Rachel trails off apprehensive still, ‘but I don’t want to force additional stress on you guys, we’ve already had so much of that lately.’

‘Little me, if this is about the trial I’m really fucking sorry for putting you through that, but hoeza’, he jazzed hands towards himself, ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never go anywhere either.’

Bursting into tears, Rachel inches closer to her pops and eases herself under his chin, her dad crams up against her side. ‘It’s not, but I’m really grateful for that pops. Promise you’ll believe me and won’t ship me off anywhere?’

‘What? Never. Nothing you’ll confess will ever make us regret you being born.’ Eddie says with vindication. ‘Absolutely nothing.’ The truth is Rachel is getting really tired of the secret she’s storing away, and she’s scared too. Terrified that someday she might accidentally hurt someone, or scared that she’s going to wake up one day and not perceive who she is.

‘I have telekinesis and I think it’s because of IT,’ she breathes out, tensing in her parents grasp as she waits for their reaction. It’s a peculiar statement to preach, but Rachel didn’t think her pops would flat out laugh at her, a reserved giggle that stops abruptly when Eddie mimes his lips shut.

‘What do you mean?’ Eddie asks cautiously.

‘You don’t believe me do you?’

‘It’s not about believing you sweetheart, it’s just where is this is all coming from? Wait, is this a prank you and Richie did to trick me? If so Pennywise is off limits so knock it off.’

‘Eds no-‘

‘No it’s not a prank, I’m serious.’ Rachel underscores, schlepping away from the both of them.

‘Bug, I don’t-‘

‘No, I’ll prove it.’

‘Okay’, Richie agrees trepidation, same as Eddie.

Rachel tries really hard, focusing all her energy and mind on levitating the same book she send flying across the room mere minutes ago, her fist balling and her face blushing in effort, but nothing occurs. Previous times this was the case too, it only happens when she’s focusing on something else, not the task at hand.

Richie snorts, assured that it’s a prank and he’s played by his own daughter, which usually wouldn’t be so far off, but this time it boils rage up under Rachels skin.

‘Stop laughing, I’ve been struggling with this for so long and all you do is laugh at me?’ Rachel grounds out, genuinely hurt that neither of her fathers take the time to listen to her.

Three things follow each other in rapid speed. The first is that Mike descends down the stairs, carrying two books, dustier than the town of Derry itself, and waving them around proudly. ‘I found them, I hope two is enough?’

The second is that the door to the library jingles, and the remaining pack of the losers walks in, and the third is the table starts vibrating, anger pulsing in Rachel’s veins having her focused on something else.

Eddie and Richie stare at the table in shock, their mouths agape as they switch to look between the table and their daughter.

‘Rachel?’  

The table is ripped from the handles and jets over two shelf's of the library, landing right in front of the losers’ feet, all of them staring in bewilderment.

‘What the hell is going on in here?’

‘Mike, I think we’re going to need a lot more books.’

[booksarelife-stuff]

The Story of Us-Chapter 4

Jily (James Potter/ Lily Evans), minor wolfstar

Word Count: 2,566

Modern Muggle AU. When Lily Evans meets the man across the hall due to a fire alarm, she has no idea that a new chapter of her life has begun. Featuring a librarian Lily and sports journalist James.

Masterlist      Read on A03      Chapter 5

Chapter 4- there’s glitter on the floor after the party

Lily decided to come in a little early to James’s flat to see if he needed any help. When she knocked, she expected James, not the tall man with shoulder length curly hair and the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. 

“You must be Lily,” he said, charm oozing out of her voice. 

“Let me guess,” Lily replied. “Sirius?”

“So he’s told you about me?” he said, raising his eyebrows. 

“And he’s told you about me?” Lily fired back. Sirius smiled and stepped out of the way, gesturing her in with an extension of his arm. 

Buttercream meowed loudly from James’s couch. Lily knew she’d get his ginger fur on her black sweater if she picked him up, but she determined it would be worth it. She set the bottle wine she brought down and scooped up Buttercream who started purring loudly in her arms. 

“He likes you?” Sirius asked, closing the front door.

“Buttercream?” Lily asked, turning around to face him. “Yeah. I give him the best pets.”

Lily continued on petting Buttercream. 

“So, you’re the one who has been indulging James with period pieces?” Sirius asked, he leaned against the door, crossing his arms. 

“That would be me,” she said. “Unless he’s watching Outlander with another Lily.”

“Hmm,” he said. “He did tell me you were a spitfire.”

Lily glanced up at him. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is,” Sirius said. 

“Where’s James?” 

“He’s getting ready,” Sirius said, nodding to James’s bedroom door. 

James had great timing as his bedroom door opened. He was fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, his taunt muscles showing on his dark skin. His hair was still damp, but Lily could see that the stubborn pieces in the back were already starting to stick up. 

Lily quickly averted her eyes, hoping her cheeks didn’t flush. 

“Sirius, do you think Lil—” James saw Lily standing there. “Oh hey! Do you like my shirt?”

Lily took along second, mostly to make James squirm for a second. It was a red flannel that he had rolled up the sleeves. He looked great in it. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said. “Why would you care about what I think of your shirt?”

“Because it’s mostly your friends coming,” he said. “I want to make a good impression.”

“You’ve already met Remus and Marlene.”

“Yeah, but not in an official capacity!”

Lily rolled her eyes and turned back to Buttercream, who was snuggling against her neck. She sent him down and watched as Sirius strode over to James.

“James, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Sirius drawled. Lily could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Ah yes. Lily, Sirius. Sirius, Lily.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sirius said. He stepped forward and grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it. She laughed at James’s grimace on his face. 

“Ever the flirt, like James said,” Lily said, laughing at the man. Sirius seemed unphased. 

“Flirting is part of my charm,” he said, shooting her a wink. “You’d think James would be better at it, seeing is how he spent his formative years with me.”

“I can flirt!” James said adamantly. “I just don’t do it to everything that moves.”

They started bickering and Lily grabbed the bottle wine and put it in his fridge. James had set out little appetizers for the guests who were coming. James had been really excited when Lily had told him that Remus and Marlene were going to come. Something about it made sure that James loved company and was probably a frequent partier in uni, though he had never told her that. 

There was a knock on the door and James stopped nagging Sirius about his “bloody loud music” and went to open the door. James opened it and there stood Remus, holding some board games and smiling. 

“Remus, nice to see you again. Come in,” James said, moving out of the way of the doorframe. Remus came in and he smiled at Lily. 

“Thank you for the invitation, James. The girls said I need to get out more,” he said. 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Sirius said.

When Lily looked at Sirius, she could only think of one way to describe the look in his eyes as he looked upon Remus. Like a wolf, ready to devour. 

Remus looked up at him and he smiled again, though significantly less wider. 

“Oh I don’t believe I’ve met you,” Remus said, ever the polite one. “I’m Remus. I work  with Lily in the library.”

Sirius went and kissed his hand just as he did with Lily. Lily met James’s eyes and they both rolled it. 

“Lily, I think I need your help in the kitchen,” James said. She followed him as he walked past. The apartment was an open one, no walls to separate the kitchen in the living room, but it was centerly enough for her and James to quietly whisper. 

“I think my brother has set sights on your friend,” James whispered, sneaking a glance over there. Lily turned around and looked at them, watching the flush spread across Remus’s cheeks.

“I can tell,” Lily whispered back. “I think Remus is into it though. He hasn’t pulled away.”

“Leave it to Sirius to pick someone up before the party even starts.”

“He seems like the type to ditch you at the bar,” Lily said. James laughed a little.

“Yes, but chances are he’ll come. He tends to strike out a lot.”

Marlene came with Dorcas, her girlfriend of two years. They made a stunning pair, Lily always thought so. They both were tall enough to be models and had the looks for it as well. Dorcas’s dark skin and natural curls were something that had captured Marlene immediately when they met at an art show. 

Lily let James just embrace them. He fell into easy conversation with Marlene, as she was a football player in her uni days. Lily was talking to Dorcas when there was a soft knock on the door. 

“Oh, Mary!” James said, running to the door. He opened the door and embraced the woman standing there. Lily tried to not watch, but he hugged her tightly. 

“This is Mary! She’s the last one for today,” James said, pulling her in. Mary was beautiful. Her hair was purple but her makeup was flawless, He had bright colors on her eyes that made the deep brown ones shine. 

“Oi, Jamie! Why are you wearing red? I’ve told you a million times to wear colors that compliments your eyes!”

“Oh come off it,” James said, playfully shoving her. 

“I have a degree in this!” Mary said. “If you listened, you would have been fighting girls back for miles. Instead they run away because of your sense of fashion.”

Whatever knot that had been tightening in Lily’s chest loosened a bit at Mary’s words. 

James started introducing everyone to her. When he got to Lily, she watched Mary’s eyes sparkle. 

“You’re the one he hasn’t been shutting up about then?” she asked. “I feel like I already know you.”

Lily laughed a little, accepting her extended hand. 

“I’m not sure what he said,” Lily said. “I hope it’s only good things.”

“Oh, trust me,” she said. “I would have thought you hung the moon.”

“Alright you two,” James said. Lily smiled a little about the blush that was on his cheeks. 

They ate and got through three bottles of wine. They played games like Cards Against Humanity, Remus surprisingly winning with ease. 

James and Mary were engaged in a game of Twister. Lily was watching them by the back of the couch. Dorcas was calling out the moves while Marlene refereed, paying close attention. Remus was sneaking glances at Sirius, thinking he was being subtle. 

Sirius sauntered over to Lily, watching James twist around Mary to put his left hand on red. 

“Getting tipsy yet?” he asked, taking a sip of deep red in his cup. 

“I think I’m there,” she replied. She knew her cheeks were flushed and there was a fuzzy feeling in her head. 

“I may have to cut you off,” he said. 

“I can hold my own Black,” she replied. Sirius had given the colorful tale of he ended up getting adopted by James’ family and he kept his own last name to spite his mother. 

“Oh I know. It’s for Mary’s sake,” he whispered. Lily turned and looked at him. She wanted to wipe that all-knowing look off his face. 

“What does that mean?”

“I saw the daggers you shot Mary when she arrived.”

Lily took a big sip of her wine. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. Sirius draped his arm over Lily. 

“Helpful tip about my brother,” he whispered leaning in. “He loves with his whole heart. He gives it his all. And he has a one track mind.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she whispered, despite her heart rate picking up. 

“So you know that Mary is a friend. And James has no interest in her,” Sirius replied. 

Lily watched as Mary fell on the mat and Marlene called it a James victory. 

“I still don’t know why you’re telling me this,” Lily said, swallowing. 

James turned to Lily. 

“Lily I won!” he said, a face splitting grin on his face. She instantly matched his smile. 

“Good job, James!” she called back. 

“I hope you like living in denial. Please don’t hurt him,” Sirius whispered to her. 

“And don’t hurt Remus,” she replied. She turned and looked at Sirius, only to see his eyes shining. 

“Touche,” he said. He tipped his glass and finished what was left in his cup before walking away. 

James walked her way, sporting a big smile and two cookies. He handed Lily one. 

“What was Sirius talking to you about?” he asked, settling where the other man had been only seconds before. He didn’t get as close as him, but their elbows brushed. 

“Oh, just that he’s making eyes at Remus,” she replied. 

“Oh, I could tell!” James said, excitedly. “Though, Sirius doesn’t have the best track record.”

They watched as Sirius sat next to Remus on the floor as Marlene and Dorcas were playing Twister, Mary watching as Remus called the moves. 

“If he breaks Remus’s heart, you’ll be the first to feel my wrath,” Lily said. James chuckled. 

“How about I give you Sirius' address and help hide the body?” he offered instead. 

Lily sighed, dramatically, like she was actually considering this deal. 

“No, you get my wrath first,” she said. James lightly elbowed her. 

It fell silent, the only sound was the sounds of the twister mat and Remus’s calls. Marlene took this seriously, whether or not she was playing her girlfriend. 

“Have you gotten to chat with Mary much?” James asked. Her heart clenched. 

“A little. She seems great,” Lily said, hoping her tone didn’t betray her. 

“She is. She’s been like my little sister since school,” James said. “Always knew she would be a fashion designer, that one. Once after a game, she didn’t even tell me about my good job, just said ‘Those uniform colors are horrid’.”

Lily giggled. 

“I bet they were,” she said. 

As the party went on, Lily did bond with Mary over Project Runway and the fact that Lily’s skirt was made of suede. Remus and Sirius snuck out early, Remus leaving the board games he brought. Lily shared a knowing look with James. 

Mary left not too long after that. She hugged everyone and Lily hoped she would come back again. She was the life of the party and seemed to to get on with Dorcas and Marlene, who left not too long after that. 

Lily insisted on staying and helping him clean up, since Sirius had bailed on him. Lily was washing out everyone’s wine glasses while James was putting away the leftovers. 

“I love your friends,” he said, his voice quiet. 

“You all exchanged numbers,” Lily said. “I think they’re your friends now too.”

James chuckled, the sound low in his throat. It was probably the wine that made her incredibly attracted to the sound. 

“I suppose so,” he said. 

The sound of a phone vibrating on the table made Lily turn. It was hers. 

“It says Petunia is calling,” James said. 

“Oh shit,” Lily muttered. “Answer it for me and tell her I’ll be there in a second.”

Lily doesn't know what possessed her to allow James to answer the call to her sister while she washed the soap off her hands and dried them. But she just didn’t think. 

“Hello, Lily will be here in a second, she’s cleaning her hands,” James answered the phone pleasantly. 

Lily turned around to see James grimace at whatever Petunia was saying. She mouthed a “sorry” and reached for the phone. 

“Hey Tuney, I’m here,” she said, walking to James’s living room. 

“Who was that man?” Petunia asked. Lily could hear the sneer in her voice. 

“Nevermind him,” Lily said. “What are you calling about?”

Petunia only called for one of three reasons. One, Lily had pissed her off. Two, She felt the need to piss Lily off. Three, their mother made her. 

“To remind you of the engagement party next week for Vernon and I,” she said. Lily sighed. She had forgotten all about that. 

“Yes, I remember,” she lied. 

“Do you have your dress picked out? Remember it’s a black tie event. I won’t have you showing up in a sundress, like you did to Vernon’s birthday.”

Fuck, Lily thought. She didn’t have a dress. 

“Yes, Tuney. I will wear something appropriate.” 

“And your date?”

“My date?” she asked, her eyebrows scrunched together. Lily never remembered getting a plus one. 

“Lily, for God’s sake,” Petunia spat out. “I told you to bring a date! I don’t want you mingling too much with Vernon’s family and you need someone to occupy your time.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Lily said, shaking a little. She wanted nothing more to punch Petunia. 

“Well too bad. Date or you’re not coming. Ask the bloke who answered the phone,” Petunia said. “Unless he has bad manners.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of it Tuney,” Lily said with a sigh. 

Petunia hung up the phone without saying goodbye. Lily groaned loudly, slipping her phone into her pocket. 

“Everything good Evans?”James called out. He was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the frame. 

“Yep, just peachy,” she replied. 

“Petunia is your sister right?” he asked, approaching her. 

“Sure is,” Lily replied. James stood in front of her, looking soft.

“What did she want?”

Lily sighed. She had explained to James vaguely about her relationship with Petunia. She didn’t want him to think she was less than, like Petunia had. 

“She was reminding me about her engagement party,” Lily said. “Which I did forget about. But it’s black-tie and I have to bring a date.”

James raised his eyebrows. 

“Why do you have to bring a date?”

“Tuney thinks I’m less likely to ruin things if I have someone with me,” Lily replied. 

“When’s the party?” James asked, pulling his phone out. 

“Next Saturday,” Lily replied. James smiled. 

“I’m free,” he said, turning his smile to Lily.

“You’ll be my date?” she asked. 

“Yep,” he said. 

“It’ll be boring.”

James rolled his eyes. 

“Not when you’re with me,” he said.