#I didn’t realise they were recreating one of their old photos | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

karahalloway · 2 years ago

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He squeezed her hand, “It’s going to be ok.”

She gave him a genuine smile, “I know. You always make everything ok.”

“Oh, Bianca! This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen!” Riley cried delightedly as she held a slightly faded photograph of a two year old Drake standing on top of kitchen counter in nothing but a pair of superman underwear and a cape.

Hahahahaha! Kiddy Drake photo parade! 🤗I was thinking of doing something like that as part of Extraction, but I don't know how that chapter is going to go down yet (Leona may ruin everything with her bad attitude 🤣) so I'm happy you decided to make a reference to this HC that we apparently both have 🥰

“So, this is the girl that got Drake Walker to settle down?” One of the elderly men who hung out in front of the feedstore gave her an appraising look. “Has anyone told you how wild this boy was back in the day?”

Oh, we know! 😏 And this will be explored in Lone Star State hopefully - get set for HC Bingo! 🤣

She had taken a shine to his truck and cowboy attire.

“No, Walker, I’m the lucky one!” She leaned over and gave him a long, lingering kiss. When they pulled apart, she told him, “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look in that cowboy hat?”

“No.”

WHAT?! How has nobody told him this before??!! Or did he just not realise that they were talking about him? Which is highly likely 🤣

“I’ve never done it in a truck before. Maybe after this feed gets unloaded we can drive down by the river and correct that.”

Drake rolled the window down and pounded on the roof of the truck as he yelled, “That feed loaded yet? Hurry your asses up!”

Drake:

🤣🤣🤣🤣

“This is beautiful.” She sighed as she lay on the green grass, head in Drake’s lap, watching the river ripple past.

“Yes, it is.” He agreed, never taking his eyes off of her.

Wish they could just stay at the ranch forever... It's obviously doing so much good for both of them... But I guess they never had a real honeymoon, so they're probably making up for that as well.

Oh! And remember when you had that idea for a duchy wide set of hiking trails to interconnect all the parks and recreational areas?”

...and there goes another shared HC 😅

She felt like someone punched her in the gut as she realized that she had, over time, given up everything to be available to him on a moment’s notice.

I feel for her - it is hard, just waiting, hoping... You don't realise how much you miss out on because of it, until you step off the hamster wheel and get a new perspective...😔 But I' glad she's starting to realise this!

“For all the years I didn’t see you. I mean, really see you!” Riley’s eyes had been locked on the best man when she’d said her vows.

His favorite nights, though, were the ones at the ranch itself, the ones where he took her out to lay in the back of the truck bed, or on a blanket on the ground to watch the stars, or to run, laughing and splashing into the river, swimming naked under the stars and making love on the shore.

She sat up and leaned into his embrace. She cried into his chest for a moment then lifted her head to look him in the eyes, “I…I’m pregnant.”

He went still for a moment as he tried to read her expression, “Okay….”

...oh, Walker... You're reactions sometimes... Though I get his trepidation - he's probably wondering whether she will want to keep it, considering that it's not Liam's... 🫣

The man was his best friend, and Drake did understand the implications of a scandal of that magnitude but as the years went on, he was leaning more and more heavily toward the belief that Liam should either say fuck it to social propriety and give Riley everything she deserved, or give her up entirely so that she could heal and move on. And he’d told him as much.

It had only caused a fight.

I'm with Drake on this one... Liam can't have it both ways, here. Because it is 100% at Riley's expense... 😔

“There’s nothing to tell Liam. I can’t be more than six weeks along. I got pregnant here. The baby is yours!”

🥰

And just like that, there was an expiration date on their little Texas interlude. Of course, he’d known from the beginning there would be.

😭

Ruin the moment, why don't ya?! It's so bittersweet though! The fact that they're both so happy about having a baby together, but knowing that this peaceful interlude is about to come to an end... and having to deal with Liam's reaction when they get back home... JUST STAY IN TEXAS! I know they can't, but still

A/N 2: Once I decided to have Riley fall pregnant, I really went back and forth between whose baby it would be....just when I decided to make it Liam's, @dcbbw pointed out how much more angsty it would be for Liam if Riley comes home pregnant with Drake's baby and she was right.

OMG YOU'RE RIGHT! It's like Heir Apparent, but reverse! 😱

The Agreement Chapter 2: Texas

Series: The Agreement

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: MA, NSFW maybe, barely.

Warnings for this chapter: I mean, maybe a tiny bit lemon scented in one part

Word Count: 3,358

A/N: So literally no one asked for a follow up to what was supposed to be a one shot, and several people thought it was perfect the way it was but....🤷‍♀️ I had more ideas......

Shout out to @harleybeaumont for prereading, @21-wishes for listening to me rant about this and to @dcbbw for doing all of the above and selling me on an important plot point. (I'll list it at the end so as not to spoil anything here)

My other stuff: Master List.

They had been in Texas for just over two months when he walked in and found her crying.

Major changes had happened over the last two months, Texas had been good for them. He was happy. She was happy. But he had known from the beginning that their time here was temporary.

He buckled his seatbelt and looked over at his wife as the plane got ready to taxi down the runway. She looked nervous, apprehensive. He placed his hand over hers, “Hey.”

She raised her eyes to his questioningly.

He squeezed her hand, “It’s going to be ok.”

She gave him a genuine smile, “I know. You always make everything ok.”

His chest flooded with warmth. “I try. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you.” She told him.

“You make me happy.”

“Do I? Really?”

Surprise spilled through him. How did she not know how he felt about her? “Yes! I love you, Riley, everything about you makes me happy!”

“You gave up your life to marry a woman who wasn’t in love with you. You’ve spent six years dealing with my shit when you could have been out there finding someone…better.”

“There is no one better!” He scoffed, “And it didn’t matter to me that you weren’t in love with me. I was in love with you and that was enough for me.”

“You know we can’t stay in Texas, right? I have a duchy to run.”

“I know.” He said carefully as his eyes studied her. He knew that eventually she would want to return to Valtoria, and Cordonia, and him.

Her eyes didn’t quite meet his, “I’m sorry. I know being a duke isn’t what you had in mind for your life.” She felt guilty that he had given up so much for her.

“Stop.” He said, “I don’t care about that. What I want from my life is being with you, whatever it looks like. That’s it.” He was in love with her, that was still enough for him.

Riley had bloomed in Texas.

She had bonded with Bianca.

Bianca giggled as she drew Riley into a hug, “Don’t you think it’s about time you called me mom?”

She had charmed the ranch hands and townsfolk alike.

Riley smiled back, as she slipped her arm through Drake’s, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Drake is a perfect angel!”

The old man’s eyes crinkled good naturedly, “She lies for you, boy, better hold onto this one!”

“I’d give up my wild ways for a woman like that!” The younger of the two ranch hand’s that were with them muttered, then flushed deep red when he realized he’d been heard.

The older ranch hand shook his head as he hit the younger man in the chest, “Shut your trap and go load that feed onto the truck!” Then to Riley, “Sorry about that ma’am. Young’uns these days ain’t got no damn sense!”

“It’s ok, Ray, I’ll take it as a compliment, but thank you for defending my honor, sir.” Riley beamed at him.

Ray flushed a little himself as he tipped his hat and nodded his head in her direction.

She had taken a shine to his truck and cowboy attire.

When they climbed back in the cab of the F-250, Drake grinned at her, “Everyone you meet loves you, you know that?”

“What?” She laughed.

“It’s true. They can all see what I see. I don’t know how I got so lucky as to ever have you look twice in my direction, but I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t regret it!”

“No, Walker, I’m the lucky one!” She leaned over and gave him a long, lingering kiss. When they pulled apart, she told him, “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look in that cowboy hat?”

“No.”

“Well you do.” She leaned across the console to whisper in his ear, “I’ve never done it in a truck before. Maybe after this feed gets unloaded we can drive down by the river and correct that.”

Drake rolled the window down and pounded on the roof of the truck as he yelled, “That feed loaded yet? Hurry your asses up!”

She had fallen in love with the livestock.

“Oh my god, Drake! These little goats have been following me around all day!” She sounded like a kid on Christmas morning.

He laughed, “Is that what you’ve been doing all morning? Walking around this pasture so the goats would follow you?”

“Maybe….”

She had communed with nature.

“This is beautiful.” She sighed as she lay on the green grass, head in Drake’s lap, watching the river ripple past.

“Yes, it is.” He agreed, never taking his eyes off of her.

“Why don’t we come here, more?” She asked, then fell silent when the answer presented itself her.

Drake didn’t respond. They both knew why. Because she had spent the last six years waiting for Liam instead of living her own life.

A shadow crossed her face at the thought of Liam.

“Riley-“

“It’s ok, we don’t have to talk about it right now. Let’s make a promise that we come visit here at least twice a year, ok? No matter what. Just the two of us.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.” He told her as he leaned down for a kiss.

He had always known the day would come when they’d have to return, that this was just an extended vacation. They both had duties and obligations awaiting them back home. But he had been determined to make the most of the time they had while they had it.

The break had been good for them both. Riley was different. Less stressed, more relaxed. She’d gone for long periods of time without seeing Liam before, but she’d been on edge, anxious about it, always checking her messages, hoping for a last minute change in plans that would allow them to see each other. She had tried to keep her schedule as open as possible.

Being in Texas with Drake was freeing for her in many ways. She knew she wasn’t going to see Liam, so she wasn’t waiting on his call, wasn’t obsessively checking her email, wasn’t wrapping her life around his schedule. She was beginning to see that a lot of her pain had been self inflicted. She hadn’t been living, she had spent the last six years just…waiting. She wasn’t waiting anymore, she was living.

She threw herself into Drake without the guilt and reservations she’d harbored in the past. She still loved Liam, those feelings hadn’t just gone away, but her love for him was slowly becoming a part of her life, not her entire life. And for the first time in a long time, she believed that happiness might be possible for her.

Plans and ideas for Valtoria bubbled through her mind with renewed vigor. She’d been going through the motions, attending council meetings and approving budgets, but it had been a while since she’d been truly invested in governing.

“And when we get back home, I want to start on that universal education initiative we talked about! Oh! And remember when you had that idea for a duchy wide set of hiking trails to interconnect all the parks and recreational areas?”

He nodded, fighting back a smile as he took in her enthusiasm, “Yeah, what about it?”

“Let’s do it! Why didn’t we do it before?”

The answer was that it hadn’t gotten off the ground because the week they were supposed to meet with the planning committee, Liam had an unexpected opening in his schedule, and she had canceled everything to run off and join him in Greece for a week. He didn’t remind her of that. He just shrugged, “I don’t know. But yes, I would still like to do that.”

She found new hobbies and rediscovered old ones.

“I’m going to miss our daily horseback rides.” She told him from atop her mount.

“Why?” He countered, “We have horses at home.”

“We do, don’t we?” Why had she stopped riding? Right, because she hadn’t wanted to be out of cell phone range in case Liam called. She felt like someone punched her in the gut as she realized that she had, over time, given up everything to be available to him on a moment’s notice. She sat up straighter in the saddle as she resolved those days were over, “Well, then let’s make this a thing.”

“Absolutely.” He agreed.

Riley found herself again in Texas. She came back to life.

Things were going well, and Riley was doing good. Their relationship bloomed, it no longer had guilt, shame or regret attached to it. It felt new, unencumbered, right.

“Let’s renew our vows!”

“What?” He laughed, “Why?”

“Because the first time wasn’t real!” She insisted.

He studied his wife’s face, “It was real enough to me. I meant every word I said.”

She felt a swoop in her stomach, “I’m sorry, Drake.”

“For what?”

“For all the years I didn’t see you. I mean, really see you!” Riley’s eyes had been locked on the best man when she’d said her vows.

He pulled her into an embrace, “Don’t apologize for that. You were in love with Liam. I knew that. I made my own choices and I stand by them.”

“I want a do over!” She insisted.

A smile tugged up the corners of his mouth, “If you really want it, I’ll do it. You should know by now; I’ll do anything for you.”

“I want to do this for you! So, do you want to do it here, or when we get back home?”

“I…don’t care. I would marry you a million times, anywhere, anytime you want.” His fingers traced down the side of her face.

“That’s what I mean, right there. You always make it about me. I’m asking what you want.”

He looked away as he fought to get his emotions under control. She wanted to prove something to him. He didn’t need it, didn’t require it, but it sent butterflies swirling through his stomach that she wanted to do it.

Plans and preparations for the recommitment ceremony were in full swing. Riley had been on the phone almost every day, reconnecting with friends she had blown off to make herself overly available to Liam, planning the ceremony, and getting the ball rolling on multiple initiatives back home.

They ate dinner with Bianca and Leona most nights, but sometimes they drove into town for dinner and dancing or a movie. When they first arrived in Texas, they had rented a hotel room and spent two weeks in San Antonio, exploring the Riverwalk, the Alamo, Natural Bridge Caverns, the Botanical Gardens and the San Antonio Museum of Art. They had spent a day at Sea World and another at Six Flags Fiesta Texas.

Their new life couldn’t have been going better. So he was surprised when he walked into their shared bedroom and found her crying. His stomach dropped like a rock as he hurried across the room to climb onto the bed with her, “Riley, baby, what’s wrong?”

She sat up and leaned into his embrace. She cried into his chest for a moment then lifted her head to look him in the eyes, “I…I’m pregnant.”

He went still for a moment as he tried to read her expression, “Okay….”

“Okay? That’s it?”

He smiled softly as he tipped her chin up, “A baby is wonderful news, but you’re crying so I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong. Aren’t you happy? I thought you wanted a baby?”

Liam’s baby, he thought to himself, she had wanted Liam’s baby.

“Brooks? Riley…” Drake sighed as he ran a hand down his face. “What did he do this time?”

“Nothing! Just….last year he said maybe this year but….” She turned away from him, her head in her hands, sobbing.

He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms, “The baby thing again?”

She nodded as she leaned against him.

Riley and Liam’s original plan had been to start trying for a baby right away, on their honeymoon. But there was no marriage, so there was no honeymoon and no baby. Riley still wanted a baby and the draw toward motherhood became more urgent with each passing year. But the time was never right, according to Liam. Of course, Liam had his heir.

It had only caused a fight.

But he was tired of seeing her hurt.

“You know….” He hesitated, unsure how his offer would be received.

“What?” She sniffled into his chest.

“I could give you a baby. I mean, if you wanted me to.”

Her tear stained face turned up toward him, “I…I can’t, Drake. Liam….”

He just nodded his head as she buried her head into his chest again, “It’s ok, I get it. But if you ever change your mind, the offer stands.”

Her eyes held a mixture of emotions as she asked him, “Aren’t you going to ask me who’s it is?”

“Nope.”

“No?” She stared at him in bemusement, “You don’t want to know?”

“I already know it’s your baby, Riley. That’s all that matters. I will raise this baby as my own no matter whose DNA it has, if that’s what you’re worried about, and my ability to love a child isn’t conditional upon that child carrying my genetic material.”

The smile that broke out across her face lit up his world. “I was crying because I’m happy, Drake! And a little sad, for other reasons….”

It was bittersweet, the pregnancy, the fact that she was so happy about it and that she had put off motherhood for six years waiting on a man that would never be able to give it to her. She had mixed emotions about Liam still, but her feelings about this baby were pretty simple. She was overjoyed.

He hugged her tight to his body, “If and when you tell Liam is up to you. I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“There’s nothing to tell Liam. I can’t be more than six weeks along. I got pregnant here. The baby is yours!”

And mine, she thought to herself. A child with Drake, not Liam. A child that was completely theirs, not an heir or a spare or Cordonia’s anything. A marriage, a family, a life that was hers, not something secret she was constantly competing for or stealing from another woman.

If the baby had been Liam’s, he wouldn’t have been able to claim him or her publicly, and she knew in her heart, that would have broken her. Watching Liam openly love his child with Madeleine while having to deny his child with her would have finished her.

Riley stood staring down at the pack of pills in her hand. She hated taking them. They made her nauseous, they made her irritable and they prevented the one thing she desperately wanted.

Riley wanted a baby, but Liam couldn’t risk the scandal. Not yet. Maybe next year. For six years, it had been maybe next year. But maybe she didn’t need Liam’s input. For the first time she considered what having a baby with Drake would be like. Why had she never considered that before?

She hadn’t considered it because of Liam. Liam would be pissed. But Liam had a child. Liam might not be able or willing to give her what she wanted, but Drake could, and would. She knew without asking, because he’d offered before. He’d watched her grieve as she had begun to give up on the idea of motherhood and he’d told her “I’ll give you a baby.” She’d said no. Because of Liam.

But Riley was done living for Liam. She had accepted that he would never give her a child, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have one with someone else. Why had she surrendered so much control over her own life? Liam hadn’t demanded it, hadn’t asked it. She’d just done it. It had happened gradually over the years. She hadn’t even noticed. She was noticing now, and she was done with it.

Riley Brooks was taking back her life.

She dropped the pills into the trashcan as she left the bathroom.

“Yeah?” Drake asked as his hand went to her stomach.

“Yeah.” She affirmed, as she placed her hands on top of his, “And I’m so glad it’s yours!”

He looked up in surprise, “You are?”

“Of course I am! Don’t you remember that night?” She asked.

A blush crept across his neck and spread up his face. He knew exactly what night she was referencing.

Riley lay panting on the bed as Drake lifted his head from between her legs with a smirk, “Someone liked that.”

“Shut up and get up here!” She tugged at his body to encourage him to move.

He kissed his way up her body before settling over her. He gazed down at her, enraptured, as her fingers ran through his hair, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She answered, “Now put a baby in me.”

“What?” Shock coursed through him.

“I want a baby; I want your baby!”

He hesitated, “Riley, are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Yes, I remember, but I didn’t think….I mean….I didn’t want to assume things and you were crying so I wasn’t sure….”

“Is it okay? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” She asked with apprehension.

“What? How could you ask that? I meant it last year when I offered. A baby with you….I can’t think of anything better! What about you? How are you feeling about it?”

“I’m so excited! We can start prenatal care here and transfer records when we get back home. We’ll wait until after the vow renewal of course, but not too much longer, we have a lot to do back home to get ready! Which room do you think we should use for the nursery? Oh! We have to tell your mom and call Savannah! They’re going to be so happy! And Hana! And Max!”

And just like that, there was an expiration date on their little Texas interlude. Of course, he’d known from the beginning there would be.

“Hey.” He tugged on her arm.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll tell mom and Leona tonight at dinner, maybe get Sav on speakerphone. Or, we wait util the ceremony and tell everyone then.”

Riley’s eyes widened, “Oh, that’s brilliant! You’re a genius!”

He pushed her back and pinned her to the mattress as he smirked down at her, “I know. About damn time someone else saw it!”

“What would I do without you?” She beamed up at him.

“Let’s never find out!” He told her as he surged forward to capture her lips in a heated kiss.

“Never.” She murmured against his mouth.

And she meant it.

~~~~

I originally thought having Liam's baby would help heal something in Riley but then I realized having Drake's baby would heal it better, because a baby with Liam would have her constantly comparing his love for his child with her child against his love for his child with Madeleines child, which I explored a little in the part where she realizes that seeing Liam claim Alexander while having to deny their child would break her.

I am not blaming Liam here, he is pretty much a prisoner to the crown, the court of public opinion, duty, obligation, etc. But the effects on Riley are the same nevertheless. He would want to claim the child, but could he? So it was time for Riley to have something of her own.

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maizumis · 3 years ago

Note

Hi I am that childhood photos anon and my careless ass forgot to mention my preferred guys. Please make it with possibly Kuroo, Daichi and you can add more characters if you feel like. So sorry for the inconvenience.

— HAIKYUU BOYS WITH BABY FEVER AFTER SEEING YOUR CHILDHOOD PICS

ft. timeskip!kuroo tetsuro, daichi sawamura, atsumu miya, suna rintaro, iwaizumi hajime

note: reblogs are appreciated, implied female reader ‼️ what a lovely request<33 don't worry nonnie, I forget those things a lot too 🥴 no proofread

❦ KUROO was going thru is old university books in the shelf, he was looking for a specific pair of notes that he had on his third year of uni “finally! found ‘em— oh?” he quirked a brow when a photo came down to the floor of the apartment, quickly bending down to grab it and flip it so he could look at it; there you were in all your glory, chubby cheeks and two teeth in the front of your mouth “kitten! come here” for sure he is gonna tell me an other corny jokes of his, you thought “what tetsu’? ” he handed you the picture before speaking his mind “why you didn't tell me you were a cute baby? makes me wanna have my own” butterflies in your tummy and your heart beating fast as ever “tetsuro! don't say stuff like that out of no where” he slipped his arm on your waist and brought closer to him “but did I lie?”

❦ DAICHI plopped himself on the bed after a long day of work; he went thru your night drawer that had is Sudoku book, ready to spend the next hour or so playing a little– before closing the drawer a baby photo caught his eye, watching closely he noticed it was you, he would recognize this eyes everywhere “dai, that shower was amazing, my back feels brand new” you were freshly out of the shower, sitting down on corner of the bed to put lotion on “hey, what if we have a kid?” the lotion in your hand now stripping down to the floor, the carpet floor, and your eyes wide open looking at nowhere specific “dai– why so suddenly" he sat down on the bed and in one motion brought you back to his chest “because you were a cute baby" he landed a kiss on your neck that made turn your head to the side “and I want a cute baby”

❦ ATSUMU was opening that last box in the new apartment, he was feeling so proud of himself and you for finally achieving one of the big goals you two had– it seemed like something distant and now he has it in front of his eyes; the box had all your old stuff, including the letter he wrote for you the last year of high school because he was to shy the say it out loud and just right under it was your picture, baby butt cheeks in all their glory while you were happy at the beach, he laughed at the picture and quickly called you upstairs “babe, what if we recreate the picture?” you rolled your eyes with a playful smack on his chest “we can't go naked to the sea, tsumu” he raised both his brows I'm confusion to your response “i wasn't talking about us, darlin’ ”

❦ SUNA scrolled down his phone while you rested on his lap, head comfortably resting against his thighs; a loud ping! came out of his device, checking it, it was a message of your mom– a cute photo of your face full of paint, with a smile so big that your eyes were practically closed and the comment of ‘hurry up! I want grandkids’ didn't go unnoticed by him “look, angel” he showed you the picture “aaaaaw~ I was a pretty baby indeed” he silently nodded while patting your head “i think we should do what your mom asked” “what did she asked for?” he handed you the phone, again- and you saw it, the gentle comment of your mom asking for grandkids “rintaro! why so out of no where? gosh literally over five years of relationship and I still get shy”

❦ IWAIZUMI saw you were with a huge box full of stuff in front of you, lots of tiny toys and onesies around you “baby? all okay?” is not like he was worried, he just didn't understand what you were doing? “oh! yes ‘m fine haji, going thru my baby stuff, you want to see a photo?” he noddle before sitting beside you, the palm of his hands instinctively coming to your thigh “look! this is my first birthday, I was so cute~” he took the picture out of your hands so he could appreciate it better “you were really cute babe, makes me wonder when are we gonna have a family of our own” once he realised what he said his cheeks were burning red, looking at the floor afraid to meet your gaze that unknown to him it was the same as his own, your heart beating faster than it probably should “ I- I mean... we could try I guess?”

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years ago

Text

How We Met

here it is, my last fic for rowaelin month! thank you so much to everyone that’s read, liked and commented on my fics, it’s been so much fun reading and writing these last four weeks! i’m glad to know that i’m not the only one that is in dire need of more rowaelin content (srsly, i would pay sjm a truck load of money for a strictly rowaelin book bc i miss them sm)

here’s part 4 for the little series i had going on. i was so tempted to make this an angst piece but held back lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

cw: none

1.8k words

enjoy and thank you again!!! :) 💕💕💕💕

Gathering the ingredients for the cake that she and Ophelia were going to make for Rowan, Aelin plopped them down on the kitchen counter and tied her and her six year old daughters hair back. Even in the kitchen light, Ophelia's hair was a vivid shade of silver and when she turned to look at her mother, the golden ring in her eyes were just as bright.

“Up, mama!” Ophelia asked, pointing to the step ladder that Olive made for her little sister in her woodshop class at school. Getting it off from atop the fridge, Aelin and Ophelia started their baking session for today. It wasn't often that Aelin baked cakes from scratch but it wasn't every day that her firstborn turned sixteen—not that Aelin could really comprehend that her Olive was sixteen—but Aelin wanted to do this for her, wanted to make something special.

She hoped that it wasn't going to taste as bad as the last cake she baked. Rowan had been sick afterwards and didn't go to work the next day.

That was five years ago, so surely with gaining wisdom as people said when others got older, her baking skills grew too.

“Where did everyone go?” Ophelia asked, her little tongue poking out as she helped Aelin sift the flour.

“To get dinner for tonight. We're having Ollie's favourite.” Which was cuisine from the Southern Continent, there was a restaurant that specialised in the spicy food, and Aelin couldn't wait—she and Rowan often tried to recreate their favourite recipes, but it was never right, so Olive wanted to have the genuine stuff for her birthday and not her parents shoddy attempts.

Not that Aelin could blame her.

They continued making the chocolate cake, Ophelia babbling on about her day at school, when her little one asked, “How did you and papa meet?”

Aelin blinked at the sudden question, but answered it nevertheless. “At the grocery store.”

Ophelia furrowed her brows, and with the way her nose scrunched up, she looked so much like Rowan that it made her heart sing. When Aelin first realised that she was pregnant, she was nervous, they had only been married for seven months and while they spoke about having a child of their own, she didn't think it would happen so quickly—but Rowan's enthusiasm melted away her fears. She would never forget his tears of joy when she showed him the pregnancy test, his beaming smile when they heard her heartbeat for the first time. Aelin would walk through hell, as long as Rowan was by her side, or waiting for her at the end.

It wasn't always perfect, however, they had their ups and downs like every long-term couple, they had moments where it felt like they were walking on tightrope, either because of their own personal issues or marriage issues, or when Egan was fourteen and completely lashed out at Aelin, accusing her of replacing his mother—but she worked with her son, telling him that she had never intended to do that, that Lyria would always be the woman that brought him into the world, and that Aelin was raising him. Her heart broke in two at his pain, but she understood, he grew up with photos and stories of Lyria.

Or when they had the awkward conversation when Olive was eleven and asked why she didn't look like Rowan, and Aelin had explained her story, about Sam being her biological father, but he had given them space for Rowan to raise her instead. That had lead to brooding silences and confusion, but otherwise, Olive still saw Rowan as her dad, but she did ask from time to time about Sam, what he was like and what he was doing (the last update Aelin received from him via email that his wife was pregnant with their second child. Aelin was so happy for him that he was able to have a family, a feat that was made easier since Arobynn had been dead for years by this point) and that she would like to meet him properly one day; Aelin had kept that to herself, not wanting to tell Sam in case Olive changed her mind—Aelin hoped that she wouldn't.

Overall, their life together was what she needed, she went to bed each night loved and fulfilled. It was better than what she might have had with Chaol all those years ago, she was fairly certain that if she had married him, it wouldn't have been a long marriage.

“How did you meet at the food store?” Ophelia asked, her brow still furrowed as she and Aelin stirred the cake batter. It surprisingly smelled good.

“I needed something from a high shelf,” Aelin said, “and I couldn't reach it. Your papa was only a few feet away from me, so I asked him to get it for me.” She might have also subtly ogled him as his shirt exposed his tanned skin, and Aelin had damned near swooned at the sight of his six pack.

“Did you get married at the food store?”

Aelin laughed at the question. “No, we got married at the beach. And then you arrived not long afterwards.” Sometimes they wanted another, but things financially were going so well that they didn't want to jeopardise that by adding another mouth to feed.

“Can you have another wedding?” Ophelia asked, looking at her mum with wide eyes. “So I can go? Please?”

“I'll talk to your daddy about it, but I like the sound of that.” Kissing her daughters forehead, they continued. Just as they were putting the cake in the oven and the icing mix in the fridge, the front door opened and three booming voices infiltrated the house and the mouth watering goodness of food.

Aelin's eyes widened at the amount of food that Rowan piled on the table. It looked like they were feeding a small army and not a family of five.

Ophelia helped her older brother set the table, Egan ruffing her hair as he recounted their little adventure to the restaurant.

As they sat down, Aelin mentioned Ophelia's request. Rowan pretended to mull it over as their daughter pleaded, giving her best puppy dog eyes. It didn't take for Rowan to relent—he really had trouble saying no to her—saying that a second wedding was a great idea.

Ophelia squealed in delight and squealed even more when food was placed in front of her (she was very much like Aelin in that regard).

“How did the conversation of another wedding start?” Rowan asked as they all started eating.

“Phia here wanted to know how we meet.”

Olive snorted. “Yes, the ever romantic story of meeting in the toilet paper aisle.”

“It was not the toilet paper isle!” Aelin protested. “It was the cereal aisle.”

“At least you kids have inherited my manners,” Rowan said, “your mother didn't even ask nicely. She just came over to me and said, 'You're tall, could you get that box for me?'” It had taken him a moment to realise he had been spoken to, too focused on deciding what box of porridge to get when Aelin showed up, wearing a faded band shirt and shorts, pointing to the box of cereal that had far too much sugar to be healthy. He had said 'yes' because it was the nice thing to do, and had stayed behind, talking to her for so long in the aisle that his vanilla ice cream had started to melt.

It was the best decision in his life back then, he never thought he would have gained a friend in the grocery store—and that the friend would become his wife.

“I have manners. I said, 'Excuse you' first before I told you what I needed.”

“That's not really using manners there, ma,” Egan said, smiling as poked her tongue out. He looked so much like Lyria that it was almost scary—he still loved flowers and plants too, and was currently studying to become a florist and then one day horticulture. The backyard was full of flowers and plants thanks to him, making into a little wonderland instead of the barren plain it used to be.

“I did say 'thank you' afterwards.”

“You said 'thanks',” Rowan interjected, laughing as Aelin threw a chunk of her flatbread at his head. Ophelia's cute laughter rent through the air.

“It's the same thing!”

“If you say so, love,” Rowan muttered, his lips twitching. Aelin rolled her eyes in the dramatic way Rowan was used to, but he saw the mirth behind the movement.

“Like I said Phie, it's very romantic,” Olive said drily, sounding very much like Rowan. She had even inherited his scowl, which she was wearing now as she sniffed at the air. “Is something burning?”

Aelin had never run so fast as she did right then, the kitchen filling with smoke as she took in the blackened cake. Swearing viciously under her breath, Aelin chucked the cake into the bin, apologising to Olive as she did so.

“It's okay, mum, dad got me an ice-cream cake earlier today anyway.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at her husband, who simply gave her an innocent smile in answer.

Rejoining her family, they talked well into the night, helping Aelin to forget her failed baking attempt. Ophelia asked more questions about their time in the grocery store and how that moment lead to friendship, to pining for the other without realising it, to a life together.

And to think, Aelin almost didn't go to the grocery store that day.

Rowan thanked the gods that he had remembered at the last moment that he had no porridge left, otherwise, he might not have met Aelin at all. Might not have had this life, this family. Part of him would always be sad that things had gone so wrong with Lyria, and he would always miss and love her. But he learned in therapy that it was good to have a life, and Rowan was glad that he heeded that advice.

He thanked the gods all the time.

And thank the rutting gods he did right now for the umpteenth time that Aelin deemed him tall enough to get her food for her, to stay in that aisle with him as they got to know each other.

Rowan was a very happy man indeed as he and Aelin went to bed that night, the smiles still on their faces at Olive's unrestrained joy at the sight of the car they spent weeks looking at second-hand dealerships at, hunting for the perfect car for their daughter.

Thank the rutting gods for all those moments in the past, present, and future.

Rowan couldn't wait to marry her again, and neither could Aelin.

Life was good.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work #thank u!!

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discoscoob · 3 years ago

Text

Praise Him | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

Getting tired of the tension on his ship, the Doctor threatens to take you all home if you don’t go on an adventure with him but the TARDIS gets thrown off course and you end up trapped in a hotel where the personal fears and bad dreams of every visitor are hidden behind each room.

Part Twelve | Part Fourteen | Chapter Index

Words: 8.8k

Warnings: death and angst

Read on AO3

A few days had passed since your argument with your auntie and you had spent the whole time avoiding her. Loki knew all the perfect places to hide in the TARDIS, which he had found when he was avoiding you after the Dark Ages. The pair of you had been enjoying each other’s company completely undisturbed, until the Doctor grew tired of the tension on his ship and called an intervention in the control room.

“This can’t go on any longer. I am taking you all on an adventure.” The Doctor had said once he managed to gather you all together.

“Thanks but I’d rather not.” You attempted to decline, you didn’t mean to sound rude towards the Doctor, you realised he was only trying to help and you appreciated that, however you couldn’t pretend everything was okay while Donna kept scowling in Loki’s direction the whole time.

“You can all either come on this trip with me or I can take you all back home right now, your choice.” The Doctor shocked all three of you with an ultimatum, knowing none of you would want to give up the freedom of space and time travel and return to your mundane lives.

The Doctor also knew that you had to consider your relationship with Loki, where would the Doctor take him, what was ‘home’ to Loki? Would he return him to Asgard or would he take him back to Earth with you? Technically he was still on the run from the TVA and staying put on one planet would likely only make it easier for them to track him down. You knew you couldn’t risk getting separated from Loki just to avoid the awkward tension with your auntie.

“You can’t do that!” Donna argued against the Doctors ultimatum.

“She’s right, it’s not fair.” Loki agreed with Donna who scowled at him as soon as he spoke up.

“I can. This is my ship and I can decide whether or not I will allow you to stay on it.” The Doctor threatened to display just how serious he was, practically daring any one of you to call his bluff. “So what will it be? An adventure or home?”

“Fine.” You were the first to yield, Loki and Donna looked at you with surprise but they knew that going home wasn’t an option. “We’ll go on an adventure.”

“Brilliant!” The Doctor celebrated his small victory with himself, “this might be exactly what you all need.” He optimistically assured the three of you as he pulled down the handbrake and sent the TARDIS into turbulent flight.

***

You all leaned over the brown wooden bannister of a red carpeted stairwell to look up and down at the many floors above and below you, the distinct scent of a hotel filled the air. So far your interest hadn’t been spiked and from the looks of it, neither had Loki’s or Donna’s as they wondered what sort of adventure could have been found on a seemingly abandoned hotel on Earth.

The only one who seemed excited was the Doctor, who enthusiastically bounced up the stairs with a wide smile on his face, but it didn’t usually take much to impress the Doctor.

“This could be the most exciting thing I have ever seen!” He said with genuine delight and you thought even that was a bit of an overreaction even for the Doctor, as he ran almost two flights above you.

“What’s exciting about an empty hotel on Earth that looks like it has a three star trip advisor rating at the most.” You asked, already wondering if you could call it a day and return to the TARDIS.

“Because, my friends, this is not Earth.” The Doctor told you as he leaned over the bannister above you all. “This has just been made to look like Earth. The craftsmanship involved... can you imagine?”

He ran back down the stairs towards you, now he had managed to grab your interest as you all wondered where you actually were.

“Then where are we?” Loki asked as the Doctor ran passed you all and you automatically followed after him, you were stood in front of the TARDIS which stood between two rows of stairs on the stairwell, against a wall.

“I don’t know, something must have yanked us off course.” The Doctor vaguely answered. “Look at the detail on that cheese plant!” He gasped as he stroked and sniffed the leaves.

“Why would someone mock up an Earth hotel?” Donna asked.

“Colonists perhaps,” the Doctor suggested as he turned back around to face you all. “Trying to recreate a home away from home, like when ex-pats open English pubs in Majorca. Whoever did this I am shaking their hand or tentacle or paw or... fin.” The Doctor trailed off.

“Have you seen these?” Loki spoke, drawing your attention to a bunch of framed portraits which were neatly lined along the walls above, below and alongside each other in thin gold frames.

“Look at the labels underneath. Commander Halke, defeat. Tim Heath, having his photo taken. Lady Silver-Tear... Daleks, I hope there aren’t any of those here.”

“You have encountered Daleks?” The Doctor looked at Loki with interest.

“Not personally, but they’re always attempting to invade the nine realms.” Loki answered while you and Donna kept looking at the portraits and reading the labels.

“What do they mean?” You wondered out loud.

“I don’t know. Let’s find out!” The Doctor was already running away in search of the lobby before anyone could ask anything else.

When you reached the abandoned reception desk of the hotel lobby, you could hear elevator music quietly playing on repeat and the Doctor hit the gold service bell, immediately giving you flashbacks to the TVA and when you looked around you realised the hotel had a strikingly similar dated decor.

You screamed and jumped back with fright when two strangers leaped out from around the corner with a battle cry. One of them, a woman dressed in blue hospital scrubs, swung a broken off chair leg at the Doctor, who managed to duck out the way just in time. The other one, a man with a head of messy curls and wearing thin silver framed square glasses, held a lamp upside down and waved it around wildly in front of him.

“What was that for?!” The Doctor cried as he moved behind your auntie for protection, while Loki was already pulling you behind him.

“Blimey, chill out!” Donna shouted at them.

“Why are you swinging about a chair leg?” The Doctor shouted from over Donna’s shoulder.

“Who are you?!” The woman in scrubs demanded.

“We’re back in reception.” The man next to her commented and you noticed the way his voice trembled as he looked around with wide eyes and you suddenly felt very uneasy.

The woman in the scrubs hesitantly stepped towards all of you and looked at each of you in the eyes.

“Rita, be careful, yeah.” The man told her.

“Their pupils are dilated. They’re as surprised as we are. Besides which, if it’s a trick, it’ll tell us something.” Rita told the man as she returned to his side.

“I’m the Doctor,” he said as he calmly stepped around Donna, “these are my friends,” he extended his arm towards the three of you and introduced each of you by your names.

“You with the glasses-“ The Doctor approached the curly haired man.

“Howie.” He introduced himself.

“You sounded surprised to be back in reception. Why?” The Doctor ask.

“The walls move, everything changes.” Howie answered.

“The corridors twist and stretch, rooms vanish and pop up somewhere else. It’s like the hotel’s alive.” Rita continued.

“That’s quite enough of that.” The Doctor stepped towards the old radio and flicked the switch to turn off the repetitive elevator music.

“And it’s like huge, with, like, no way out.” Howie added.

“Have you tried the front door?” You asked.

“No, in two days it never occurred to us to try the front door. Thank god you’re here!” Rita sarcastically answered and you frowned.

“Right. That’s not good.” You heard the Doctor say and you looked in his direction to find he had pulled the front doors open only to reveal a white brick wall completely blocking the exit. He walked over to a pair of shut curtains and pulled them open to reveal no window just another brick wall. “Definitely not good.”

“It’s not just that. The rooms have... things in them.” Rita explained.

“Things? What sort of things?” The Doctor asked.

“Bad dreams.” Rita answered hesitantly, almost like she was certain he wouldn’t believe her.

“Doctor, I think we should leave.” Loki suggested.

“I already told you, there’s no way out.” Rita reminded him.

“We have a ship.” Loki smugly smiled.

“Wait, how did you two get here, then?” The Doctor asks the pair.

“I don’t know, I just started my shift. I must’ve passed out, because suddenly I was here.” Rita answered.

“I was blogging, next thing, this.” Howie said.

“So people are being snatched from their lives and dropped into an endless, shifting maze that looks like a 1980s hotel with bad dreams in the bedroom.” The Doctor concluded.

“But you have a ship, we can finally leave.” Howie pointed out, sounding relieved.

“Yes we do, follow me.” The Doctor once again sped off back towards the TARDIS and the rest of you rushed behind to keep up. “We’ll all get into the TARDIS, I’ll do a planet-wide diagnostic sweep and then I’ll return you back safely to the exact moments you got snatched away...”

The Doctors voice trailed off as he stopped in his tracks in front of an empty space where the TARDIS once stood. He held his arms out and felt around like he was checking it hadn’t somehow turned invisible but you could tell there was absolutely nothing there.

“Don’t tell me the TARDIS has gone.” Donna sighed.

“Okay.” The Doctor muttered, still stunned.

“Where is it then?” She asked.

“You told me not to tell you.” The Doctor turned around looking genuinely confused.

“Don’t get clever with me.” She warned him.

“What’s a TARDIS?” Howie asked.

“Our way out. And it’s gone.” Loki groaned.

Suddenly you heard the elevator music from the lobby begin playing again by itself and the uneasy feeling spread deeper through your chest.

“Okay. We all just need to remain calm.”

The Doctor could sense how you were all on edge, “Rita, are there anymore of you?”

She glanced at Howie and down the stairwell before she looked back at the Doctor, “Joe, but he’s tied up right now.”

“Doing what?” The Doctor asked.

“No, I mean he’s... literally tied up.” She clarified.

***

You all slowly entered a large room, one by one, that was filled with round tables covered in white cloths. Around each table, there sat identical creepy ventriloquist dummies, their chins lifted up and down as they all laughed.

Once you all entered the room, their laughter subsided, leaving you in complete silence. Slowly their heads began to turn by themselves, as they followed you with their large, vacant, painted on eyes.

You felt as though you had been dumped straight in the centre of a horror story, the eerie atmosphere of the room sent dreadful shivers through your spine and quickened your heart rate.

Loki had immediately sensed your trepidation and secured his arm around you as a form of comfort as he whispered in your ear reassurances that they were just puppets and could not hurt you and he would keep you safe. You had leaned into Loki’s hold in pursuit for more of his comfort.

Neither of you had noticed the way your auntie was observing your interaction from behind the pair of you, for once she wasn’t looking at you with judgement but with contemplation instead, Loki’s behaviour seemed natural and genuine, she still didn’t trust him but she appreciated the way Loki had managed to sooth you.

In the centre of the room, a dazed man sat at one of the tables, with rope across his chest which restrained him to his chair. He stared blankly ahead, as if he hadn’t even noticed anyone enter the room, as the Doctor tentatively approached him.

“Hello. I’m the Doctor.” He introduced himself.

“You’re going to die here.” Joe answered bluntly.

“Well, they certainly didn’t mention that in the brochure.” The Doctor muttered. “Is Joe there? Can I have a quick word?”

“Oh it’s still me, Doctor, but I’ve seen the light. I lived a blasphemous life, but he has forgiven my inconstancy, and soon he shall... feast.” The way Joe spoke reignited the shivers down your spine.

“You’ve been here two days, what’s he waiting for?” The Doctor asked as he pulled out one of the chairs and sat opposite Joe.

“We weren’t ready. We were still raw.” Joe smiled.

“And now you’re what? Cooked?” The Doctor guessed.

“If you like. Soon you will be, too. Be patient. First, find your room. There’s a room here for everyone.” His eyes shifted over to you, as did the dolls heads and you shuffled closer into Loki’s side.

“Nothing else matters anymore. Only him. It’s like these things.” Joe looked around at the puppets which surrounded each table. “I used to hate them! They make me laugh now.” Joe began laughing to himself.

“Gottle o’ geer! Gottle o’ geer!” Joe cheered as his laughter increased and the dummies began joining in again, their slack jaws chattering up and down.

“You should go. He’ll be here soon.” Joe told the Doctor.

***

You had all returned to the reception, the Doctor had managed to find a stack barrow, to wheel Joe around in while keeping him tied to his chair as the Doctor went over his plan.

“First, we find the TARDIS. Quick thing before we go. If you feel drawn to a particular room, do not go in, and make sure someone else can see you at all times.” The Doctor instructed.

You ended up searching through the hallways of the hotel, they were decorated with a red floral carpet and white floral wallpaper, all the numbered doors to the different rooms were white and between each door there was a wall lamp, which kept the hallways bright, since there were no windows to let in any natural light.

You and Loki walked side by side at the back of the group, Rita was pushing Joe in the stack barrow, by now he had some duct tape over his mouth to quiet his nonsensical ramblings. The Doctor lead the group at the front and Howie was muttering to Donna about his theory on how whole thing was a conspiracy, she didn’t appear convinced but she just smiled and nodded before she stepped on ahead to walk beside the Doctor.

You suddenly heard a school bell ring as a man stepped out of one of the rooms in front of the Doctor, dressed in a white vest and white shorts with a whistle around his neck.

“Hello?” The Doctor spoke.

“Have you forgotten your P.E. kit again?” The man yelled, the Doctor had no answer as he glanced around in confusion. “Right, that’s it, you’re doing it in your pants!”

With that the man stormed back into his room and slammed the door behind him, the Doctor looked around at all of you in silence and you realised that must’ve been someone else’s bad dream.

“Hey! Don’t!” The Doctor shouted as he ran past you and Loki, you both jumped out the way and watched as Howie opened one of the doors to a room before the Doctor could reach him.

Once the door swung open you heard the sound of girls laughter.

“Oh look girls, it’s H-H-Howie.” You heard one of them tease, causing the others to burst into giggles.

“What’s “loser” in K-K-K-Klingon?” Another added encouraging another round of laughs.

“Shut the... d-d... the- the door!” Howie told the Doctor as he began backing away and the Doctor quickly slammed it shut as Howie stood behind him, nervously pulling the sleeves of his striped hoodie over his hands. “This is just some... m-m-messed up CIA b-b-bullshit, I’m- I’m telling you.”

“You’re right, keep telling yourself that. It’s a CIA thing, nothing more.” The Doctor told Howie as he put an arm over his shoulder and encouraged him to keep walking down the corridor and you all continued to quietly follow.

You felt as though you were walking around in circles as every hallway looked exactly the same, the same carpet, the same wallpaper, the same wall lamps and doors. There were no signs which told you what floor you were on, the only thing which was different was the numbers on the front of each of the doors.

There was a dip in the ceiling, which ran along the top of the corridor, it looked like a beam, the Doctor ran his finger over it to trace some large scratch marks that had been left behind. While Donna stopped and bent down to pick up some small notebook sized pieces of paper which she had found on the floor. You glanced over her shoulder to look at the words scribbled in pencil which were written over it.

Loki had fallen to the back of the group and he slowed as he passed one of the doors, until he was stood in front of it. Everything in him was screaming at him to walk away but he couldn’t, it was as if he were stuck, as the urge to open the door before him overpowered him.

Hesitantly he lifted his hand, which had begun shaking, to the doorknob. He was overwhelmingly curious about what his bad dream might be, many nights he had been plagued with nightmares of being back at the sanctuary, tortured by The Other. He wondered if that’s what was waiting for him behind his door, or perhaps it was Thanos himself, come to kill him just like in the projection the TVA had shown him.

No one noticed as Loki pushed his door open and peaked inside his room, to find the last thing he expected, it was empty. Apart from two single beds against the wall, a table between them with a lamp on top of it, much like a normal hotel room, there was nothing. Loki drew his brows together, he wasn’t sure whether he should’ve been relieved or worried.

Loki retreated and stepped back into the hallway, as he gently pulled the door back shut he glanced at the number on the front of it to find it was room 13 and he narrowed his eyes.

You had turned around just in time to see him with his hand on the doorknob and you called his name as you ran towards him.

“Loki, don’t go in there!” You grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the door.

“It’s too late.” Loki mumbled as his eyes remained on the door and you put both your hands on the sides of his face to force him to look at you.

“What did you see?” You asked him and he slightly shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay, you can tell me.” You encouraged him, believing he was trying to protect you.

“No, I’m not lying... there- there was nothing.” Loki told you, you could see the genuine confusion in his eyes and you realised he was telling the truth.

A sudden growl grabbed everyone’s attention, it was a low and thunderous sound that could only come from a dangerous beast. Joe began squirming in his chair as he tried to break free from his restraints as the growling grew closer.

“Okay, whatever that is, it’s not real, yeah?” Donna asked the Doctor.

“No, no, I’m sure it isn’t,” you heard him assure her, yet the way he was backing away betrayed him, “but just in case, let’s run away and hide anyway, in here.”

The Doctor encouraged you all to pile into one of the rooms, some of you got separated, while you, Loki, Donna and the Doctor entered one room, Rita and Howie ran into another, abandoning Joe in the middle of the hallway.

When you looked into the room, you saw two stone statues of angels with their faces hidden behind their hands as if they were crying.

“Oh god. Okay, whatever you do. Don’t blink.” The Doctor ordered you all as he stared with wide eyes at the stone statues in front of him.

“Why not?” You dared to ask.

“They’re Weeping Angels, they can only move when they’re not being observed, a single touch from one of them will make you disappear forever.” The Doctor quickly explained to you and your eyes began to burn as you stared at the stone sculptures in front of you.

The light of the room began flickering off and on, every time the room was plunged into completely darkness the light came back on to reveal the angels had moved closer. Now they had removed their hands from their face as they reached out for you with their mouths open wide to reveal sharp teeth.

Your pulse raced as you backed yourself up against the wall each time they came closer, you wanted to scream but you were too frightened, your eyes watered from the sting of forcing them open too long and you clung on impossibly tight to Loki’s arm.

“Why haven’t they got us yet?” The Doctor asked once the angels stopped coming any closer.

The Doctor bravely stepped forward, while the rest of you remained against the wall.

“Doctor, be careful.” Donna warned him, as he reached his hand out towards the stone angel but once he touched it, nothing happened and the Doctor sighed with relief.

“They’re not real. They would’ve got us by now. They’re not real. Just someone’s bad dream.” The Doctor turned around to assure you all and each of you slumped against the wall in unison, as you let your eyes finally fall shut, you wiped away the moisture that fell from your tear ducts, as your eyes watered heavily to replenish their irritated and dried surface.

From the hallway you could hear the growls grow closer, as they were accompanied by heavy footsteps. On the floor, where light from the hallway leaked through the gap of the door, you saw the shadows of the beasts legs as it stomped past. You held your breath as you tightly closed your eyes and you felt Loki’s arms tighten around you.

The Doctor quietly stepped up to the door and spied through the peephole, but quickly jumped back when the beast banged against the door from the other side.

“Oh dear.” He glanced nervously at the rest of you before he returned to the door to take another glance through the peephole. “I think it’s going after Joe.”

He watched as Joe managed to struggle free from the ties which bound him to the chair, as he stood and held his arms out wide at his sides, with a large smile on his face.

“Come to me. Come to me.” He welcomed the beast. “Praise him.”

Suddenly it fell silent and you all glanced at each other, wondering if it was safe to leave the room yet. The Doctor was the first one to step out of the room as he looked up and down the empty hallway, the only thing left behind was the chair, the stack barrow and the ties which were left discarded on the floor. The Doctor looked to the top of the hallway just in time, to see Joes legs disappear behind the corner, as the beast dragged him away.

“Leave him alone!” The Doctor shouted as he ran after him. As you all ran out the room after him, Rita and Howie emerged from the room they had hidden in.

Once you all turned the corner, you found the Doctor crouching beside Joe, who was perched in a kneeling position against the wall, his head lulled lifelessly and his vacant eyes stared at nothing, as the Doctor patted at his cheek. The look on the Doctors face as he solemnly glanced back up at all of you, told you everything you needed to know.

***

The Doctor and Loki had managed to carry Joe’s body to one of the hotel’s bars, where they rested him on the floor and covered him with a white cloth from one of the tables, while you and Donna wedged chairs underneath the handles of all the doors in an attempt to stop anything from getting into the bar where you sought refuge.

The only sound that filled the room was the ear piercing whistle of an old kettle coming to a boil, as Rita made cups of tea for you all and Howie quietly sat at one of the tables by himself.

“What exactly happened to him?” Rita asked the Doctor as she approached him with two cups of tea in her hand, one of which she handed to him.

From where you sat on a nearby table, next to Loki, you listened in on their conversation.

“He died.” The Doctor answered plainly as he held his mug full of tea in front of him.

“You are a medical Doctor, aren’t you?” Rita checked, “you haven’t just got a degree in cheese-making or something.”

“No! Well, yes, both, actually.” The Doctor answered. “I mean, there is no cause, all his vital organs simply stopped, as if the simple spark of life, his loves and hates, his faiths and fears were just... taken.”

“So you believe this to be a fake alien hotel?” Rita pointed out. “I heard you talking when you arrived.” She confessed after the Doctor silently tilted his head, wondering how she knew that. “Look, it’s no more ridiculous than Howie’s CIA theory or mi... or mine.”

“Which is?”

“This is Jahannam.” She stated.

“You’re a muslim? You think this is hell?” The Doctor asked curiously and Rita nodded.

“The whole ‘80s hotel thing took me by surprise, though.” She added.

“All these fears and phobias wondering about, most are completely unconnected to us, so why are they still here?” He asked her as if she had the answers.

“Maybe the cleaners have gone on strike.” She joked which made the Doctor laugh.

“I like you, you’re a right clever clogs. But this isn’t hell, Rita.” The Doctor told her.

“You don’t understand, I say that without fear. Jahannam will play its tricks, and there’ll be times when I want to run and scream, but I’ve tried to live a good life and that knowledge keeps me sane, despite the monsters and the bonkers rooms.” She explained before Donna approached the Doctor, holding in her hand the pieces of paper she found on the floor earlier.

“Doctor, look at this. I found it in a corridor, I forgot I had it.” Donna told him as she handed over the pages to him. The Doctor took them in his hands and leaned against the table you and Loki were sat at as he read the scribbled writing on the paper out loud.

My name is Lucy Hayward and I’m the last one left. It took Luke first. It got him on his first day, almost as soon as he arrived. It’s funny, you don’t know what’s going to be in your room until you see it, then you realise it could have never been anything else. I just saw mine. It was a gorilla from a book I’d read as a kid. My god that thing used to terrify me. The gaps between my worships are getting shorter, like contractions. This is what happened to the others... and how lucky they were. It’s all so clear now. I’m so happy. Praise him.

“Praise him.” Howie repeated from where he was sat, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“What did you just say?” The Doctor asked.

“Nothing...” Howie innocently answered before he looked like he was fighting against himself as the words rose to his tongue. “Praise him.” He said again before he slapped his own hand over his mouth.

“This is what happened to Joe.” Rita told you all, as Howie rose from his chair and began to pace back and forth.

“God, it’s going to come for me now.” He worriedly muttered to himself.

“I won’t leave you, I promise, you have my word.” The Doctor swore to him.

“I don’t want to get eaten!” Howie grew more anxious.

“Howie, calm down.” Rita tried to tell him.

“He’s going to lead the beast right here.” Loki said.

All their voices jumbled together as the spoke over one another, before the Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver in the air and it emitted a shrill sound which rung through your ears, you quickly covered them with your palms and everyone fell silent.

“Thank you.” The Doctor said once everyone had stopped talking.

“Don’t you see? He will lead the monster right here!” Loki was the first to speak.

“What do you suggest?” Rita turned to him and Loki silently looked around at everyone, until his eyes fell on you.

“We have to keep ourselves safe and find the TARDIS,” he told the room, “tragic though it might be, now is not the time for sentiment. The beast is coming for Howie and if we all remain here it might take us too.”

“Of course you’re thinking about yourself.” Donna snidely commented.

“I’m thinking about the safety of your niece, actually.” Loki corrected her and she frowned regretfully.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay with Howie. You take the others and go.” Rita offered.

“No. We stay together.” The Doctor said with finality. “Howie, any second now, it’s going to possess you again. When it does, I’m going to ask you some questions. Please try to answer them.”

The Doctor sat Howie down at one of the tables and you all sat down opposite him. The Doctor tapped his fingers on the surface of the table as he waited for the possession to wash over Howie again. You noticed it seemed to have come over him when his eyes widened and he gasped in a breath of air.

The edge of Howie’s lips lifted into a smile and he raised his large brown eyes to look at you all from under his dark eyebrows, the sinister look unsettled you.

“Howie, you’re next! We’re all so jealous, so tell us... How do we get a piece of the action? Why isn’t he possessing all of us?” The Doctor baited him.

“You guys have got all these distractions, all these obstacles. It’d be so much easier if you just it let go, you know, clear the path.” Howie explained, his demeanour completely changed, he became lucid and relaxed.

“You want it to find you? Even though you know what it’s going to do?” You asked.

“Are you kidding?” Howie asked you directly. “He’s going to kill us all! How cool is that?!”

The Doctor abruptly stood up and you did too, followed by Loki and then Donna and Rita as you huddled into a group with your backs turned to Howie.

“It’s as I thought. It feeds on fear.” The Doctor whispered. “Everything, the rooms, Lucy’s note, even the pictures in reception, has been put here to frighten us. So we have to resist it. Do whatever you have to, cross your fingers, say a prayer, think of a basket of kittens, but do not give in to the fear.” He instructed.

“Guys... where’s Howie?” Rita asked and you all turned around and looked at the empty chair where he was once sat.

“My master, my lord. I’m here! Bring me death!” You heard Howie’s voice faintly cry from the stairwell.

“No!” The Doctor yelled as he ran out the exit of the bar, in search for Howie, Donna and Rita followed after him and you followed after them, ignoring Loki who called after you.

Somehow you all got separated as you ran through the corridors in search for Howie and each other. Rita had said that the corridors twisted and stretched, it likely did this on purpose. You found yourself alone in one of the empty hallways, the door at the end of it called to you. Number 7. Without moving the wall slid closer to you, until all you had to do was reach out your hand and turn the doorknob to find out what awaited you.

You know you shouldn’t have, you really tried not to, but you couldn’t help yourself as you slowly pushed open your door and glanced at what was inside.

Your eyes widened when on the edge of the bed you saw a dark figure, the only light in the room was the one which leaked through from the hallway, but you recognised it immediately. The figure haunted your dreams often as a child, it became less frequent as you grew older until you had forgotten about it completely. The nightmares used to petrify you, often you would wake in the middle of the night screaming and your mother would have to come running into your bedroom to comfort you and tell you it was just a bad dream.

You yelped when you felt someone yank you away from the door, before they slammed it shut.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Rita told you. “What did you see?”

“Nothing.” You said defensively, you didn’t want to explain it, “I didn’t see anything.”

Rita could easily tell that you were lying, but she didn’t call you out on it, respecting the fact you didn’t wish to share your bad dream.

“Come on.” She urged you, taking you to find everyone else.

As you ran through the endless maze of corridors, you eventually ran into Donna, all three of you remained together until you turned down a corridor and found the Doctor standing in front of Howie’s body which was presented in a kneeling position against the wall, just like Joe’s had been.

The Doctor silently stared back at the three of you, regret evident in his eyes at the fact he was unable to save his life. Just as you began to wonder where Loki was, he appeared at the other end of the hallway, as soon as you saw him you rushed towards him. He pulled you into his arms without hesitation and planted a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

***

The Doctor was walking up the stairwell, having just returned from the bar where he and Loki had placed Howie’s body alongside Joe’s and put another white table cloth over him. He had decided he needed to go for a walk, he was beginning to feel the pressure of time running out and if he didn’t come up with a plan soon he was going to lose all of you.

As he walked up the stairwell, he ran into Rita, who was walking in the opposite direction.

“Rita! How are you?” He greeted her, “not panicking, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Good. That’s very good. Because I’m on the verge of getting us out of here.” He assured her, despite the fact he wasn’t entirely certain if he actually was.

“Why is it up to you to save us?” Rita asked him. “It’s quite a god complex you have there.”

“I brought them here.” He told her, “I didn’t really give them a choice in the matter. I threatened to take them back home and take the freedom of all of time and space away from them if they didn’t join me on one adventure. How much safer they would’ve been if they had’ve decided to go home.”

“All of time and space, eh?” Rita grew interested.

“Oh, yeah. And when we get out of this, I’ll show you, too.” He promised her, before his eyes landed on a security camera above her head and he smiled as he suddenly got an idea. “Right down to the smallest detail. Got you, Mr Minotaur.”

With that, he ran off down the stairs and Rita was left staring at the security camera. Curiously she stepped up the stairs and stood right in front of it as she looked directly into it.

“Praise him.” She smiled as she closed her eyes.

***

Loki studied you as you both sat in silence at one of the tables in the bar, you had been quiet ever since you reunited after you all got separated. He understood you were frightened, even he was too, but there had been a change in you and it didn’t take him long to figure out what it was.

“You’ve seen your room, haven’t you.” Loki quietly said as he took your hand in his to get your attention.

You had been staring into nothing and you rapidly blinked as you zoned back in and looked at Loki, his face was filled with nothing but concern for you as you silently nodded before dropped your head in shame.

Loki placed the tips of his fingers under your chin and gently encouraged you to lift your head.

“What did you see?” He asked you.

“There was a figure sat on the bed,” your eyes gently filled with tears as you retold Loki of the nightmares that plagued you as a child. “I’m next, aren’t I? It’s going to come for me. I’m sorry, Loki. I’m so sorry, I tried to resist it, I’m sorry.”

Loki tenderly shushed you as you began to cry and pulled you into his chest, where you sobbed into the front of his shirt as you let his comforting warmth and scent surround you, never wanting to leave the safety of his embrace. You whined as Loki pulled back and he left a soft kiss on your salty lips before he took your face in his hands and wiped away the tears which ran down your cheeks.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. I will do whatever it takes to protect you.” Loki swore to you, before he let you hug back into him as he tried his best to sooth you.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Donna watched on from the doorway to the bar, she had missed the part where you revealed you had seen your room and only caught the pair of you as Loki promised to protect you, she was beginning to believe that he truly meant it.

***

After Loki had managed to calm you down, you decided that you should go find the Doctor, Donna had revealed herself to the both of you once you exited the bar and to your surprise she didn’t have anything to say about you and Loki.

“Where’s Rita?” You asked your auntie when you realised she wasn’t with any of you.

“Maybe she’s with the Doctor.” Donna shrugged.

Donna joined you on your way to find, Rita and the Doctor, she remained silent the whole time and didn’t even send any hostile glances in Loki’s direction when he took your hand in his, you were slightly confused but didn’t question it as you were just grateful that she was giving the pair of you some peace.

You were walking down a corridor when you heard the Doctor’s voice, from behind a door that was wedged open slightly and you rushed through it with Loki and Donna close behind you.

“What’s going on? Rita’s disappeared.” You told him once you entered the room, you saw all the black and white TV’s in front of the Doctor, which displayed live security footage and you noticed he had a phone to his ear, while on one of the TVA’s Rita looked directly into the camera as she, too, spoke into a phone from one of the bedrooms which she had brought out into the corridor.

“Rita. Rita, please. Let me find you.” The Doctor urgently pleaded.

“Stay where you are.” She ordered him. “Please, let me be robbed of my faith in private.”

“Listen, Rita. Go into the room, lock the door.” The Doctor instructed her after he saw the beast walk by on the security footage displayed on one of the other TV’s and saw it was closing in on Rita.

“I’m not frightened. I’m blessed, Doctor. I’m at peace.” She told him. “I’m going to hang up now.”

“No, Rita, Don’t!” The Doctor begged.

“Goodbye, Doctor.” Rita spoke directly into the camera, it was almost as if she was looking right into the Doctors eyes. “Thank you for trying.”

“Rita! Rita, please!” The Doctor shouted, but he knew he couldn’t hear her as she pulled the phone from her ear and placed it back down on the receiver. The Doctor still hadn’t removed the phone from his own ear, as the dial tone and his useless pleas were the only sounds that filled the room.

“Doctor, it’s too late.” Donna gently told him as she slid the phone from his hand and returned it to the receiver, the Doctor couldn’t tear his eyes away from the security footage as a large shadow began to loom over Rita and she smiled.

“Doctor!” Donna called after him as he abruptly stormed out the room. You jumped when you heard the sound of glass smashing and tables being thrown over, as the Doctor unleashed his emotions, you knew he had grown close to Rita during their short time together.

Watching the beast take her had only made it all the more real, as you realised that was your unavoidable fate. You looked up at Loki, your vision blurred as moisture gathered in your eyes, he had vowed to protect you and you didn’t doubt he would but you were trapped here with no way out, even the TARDIS had disappeared, you knew that the odds were not in your favour and that realistically you didn’t have long left.

***

You, Loki and Donna quietly sat at one of the tables which the Doctor hadn’t flipped over in the now trashed bar. As the Doctor paced around in front of you all, desperately trying to figure it out.

“It preys on people’s fear and possesses them. But Rita wasn’t afraid, she was brave and calm. Maybe it’s something to do with the people, some connection between you that will tell me how to fight it.”

“Yes. You keep saying that, but while we wait, people keep dying and she will be next.” Loki criticised the Doctor and you looked at him with wide eyes as he referred to you.

“No, you won’t let that happen.” You told him, as you took his hands in yours.

“I know, darling, I know.” He turned to you in his chair, “don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You saw your room?” Donna realised.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice trembled as you spoke to her and she instantly rose from her seat to pull you into her arms and shushed you.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, you’re going to be okay.” She assured you.

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no.” The Doctor mumbled. “It’s not fear. It’s faith.” He realised.

You pulled away from Donna as you watched the Doctor have an epiphany.

“Not just religious faith, like Rita’s, but faith in something. Howard believed in conspiracies, that external forces controlled the world. Joe had dice cufflinks and a horseshoe pin on his tie. He was a gambler. Gamblers believe in luck. They all believe there’s something guiding them, about to save them. That’s what it replaces. Every time someone was confronted with their most primal fear, they fell back on their most fundamental faith. And this whole time, I’ve been telling you to dig deep. Find the thing that keeps you brave. I made you expose your faith and gave it exactly what it needed.” The Doctor said with regret.

“What about me?” You asked, “What does it want from me?”

“Your faith in Loki.” The Doctor answered. “That’s what brought us here.”

You all fell silent and Loki realised that the one thing putting your life in danger was your faith in him. Which meant if you died, it would be his fault, he concluded in his own mind.

“But why do they lose their faith before they die and start worshipping... “it”?” Donna was the first to break the silence.

“It needs to convert the faith into a form “it” can consume. Faith is an energy, the specific emotional energy the creature needs to live.” The Doctor explained. “Which is why at the end of her note, Lucy said...”

“Praise him.” You said.

“Exactly.” The Doctor nodded, until his eyes widened when he realised you weren’t finishing his sentence for him, you had began worshipping the beast.

“No.” Loki said to you, having realised the same thing. “Please, no.” He pleaded as he took your hands in his own.

Suddenly you began to hear a distant growl and the sound of heavy footsteps from the floor above. The beast was coming for you.

“We have to get her away from here.” The Doctor announced and Loki urged you out of your seat as you all began to run out of the bar and back into the endless maze.

As you ran through the corridors with a tight grip on Loki’s hand, you heard the footsteps coming closer behind you, until when you glanced over your shoulder, you finally saw it chasing after you.

You slipped your hand free from Loki’s and turned to face the beast, you thought it was beautiful and you didn’t understand why you were ever running from it, you wanted to welcome it and the glorious death it would bring you.

But you felt two pairs of hands dragging you away, you tried to fight against them but they were stronger, as Loki and Donna both pulled you along the hallway, away from the beast which was quickly catching up to you.

“Over here!” Loki shouted towards the Doctor when he saw door number 13, “it’s my room, there’s nothing in here!”

The Doctor pushed open the door and Loki and Donna pulled you into the room before the Doctor slammed the door shut and leaned his weight against it in an attempt to keep the beast out.

“What do we do now? We’re trapped.” Donna looked to the Doctor, Loki turned to him for answers as well, as you crouched to the floor with your back facing everyone.

Suddenly the beast slammed against the door, trying to get through, but the Doctor continued pushing his weight against the door trying to keep it out.

“You have to destroy her faith in you,” the Doctor told Loki urgently, as the beast kept beating against the door. “It’s the only way you can save her.”

Loki swallowed as he felt his throat tighten and he lowered his eyes to you where you knelt on the floor with your back to him, another hit against the door from the wild beast behind him urged him to step towards you, until he crouched by your side.

“Loki, it’s happening, it’s changing me, it’s changing my thoughts.” You told Loki, still believing he could save you.

Loki fought back his tears, throughout his entire life he had been told to control his emotions, despite that, he had never been very good at it, but now your life depended on it and he tried to remain as emotionless as possible. He gulped down the lump in his throat and controlled the tremble in his voice, so it wouldn’t give him away as he spoke.

“I can’t save you.” Loki told you and he felt the first unbearable rip in his chest as you looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes, expecting him to be your hero.

“What? No, you can. You promised.” You desperately encouraged him.

Loki had to momentarily divert his gaze to stop himself from breaking. He masked it as a bored sigh as he wiped his palm down his face before he looked back towards you, ensuring that his eyes lacked any of the adoration, trust and love that he held for you in his wounded heart. Shadows cast over his eyes, making them darker in the already dimly lit room as he stared at you from beneath his eyebrows. The only time you ever recalled him looking at someone like that was when he confronted Cassandra, back then the look had sent shivers through your spine, but now it made your chest cave as you wondered what you had done to the person you love to make him look at you like that.

“I lied.” Loki lied. “I tricked you. I’m the God of Mischief, it’s what I do best, and you fell for it so easily.”

“You’re lying. It’s not funny.” You shook your head, refusing to believe him, your faith in him remained strong. Loki decided to try another tactic which caused a sick feeling to stir in his stomach, but he had promised he would do whatever it takes to protect you and he wasn’t going to break his promise, even if that meant he had to make you hate him.

“You should have listened to your auntie,” Loki continued. “She was right, I’ve been lying to you this whole time. I wasn’t controlled by the mind stone when I attacked New York, I brought death and destruction and enjoyed every second of it.”

“No, stop.” You pleaded as you began to sob, “why are you saying this?” You tried to hold onto him but he shoved you away as he stood up straight above you and you grovelled at his feet, clinging onto him and your belief in him for dear life, like it wasn’t the one thing endangering it.

By now the beast had managed to overpower the Doctor and the door was wide open. It’s shadow loomed over you and Loki realised that if he was about to lose you forever, he would rather it be in the way where you survived in the end. He had to truly hurt you.

“I told you a made up sob story and you fell for it, like a fool... or perhaps you were just so desperate for some affection, you didn’t care who it came from. I’d expect nothing less from a pathetic human such as yourself. You asked me once if I thought you were a worthless creature,” Loki noticed the monster finally stopped in his tracks half way into the room, as you finally let go of his legs and began to shuffle away from him, dreading what he was going to say next. Loki knew that this was the final blow that would completely shatter your faith and trust in him and save your life. So with his heart already torn in to shreds, he prepared to reach into his chest and rip out the broken pieces of his heart and throw them away, destroying any chance of it ever being put back together again after this. “Truth be told, I think you’re the most worthless of them all.”

With that the beast collapsed to his knees and you scrambled to your feet to get away from Loki as you looked at him with so much betrayal, he had to avoid your eyes to stop himself from breaking down right there in front of you and start begging for your forgiveness.

You rushed to your auntie for comfort, while the Doctor crouched by the creatures side as it let out it’s final breaths.

Once it was dead, the hotel around you began to collapse like a house of cards, you were all left unharmed as everything around you vanished into nothing, until it revealed that you had been on a spaceship this whole time as you were surrounded by futuristic electronics and a round window which revealed the vast vacuum of space and a nearby grey planet. The ship was quiet and it seemed to be abandoned, but you weren’t going to stick around long enough to double check as you finally saw the TARDIS, stood in the far corner of the dark room. You wanted to get as far away from Loki as possible, so as soon as you had laid eyes on the Doctors ship, you had ran towards it and disappeared behind its blue doors.

It was then that Loki realised why his room had been empty, it was in his room where he had lost you, and that was his biggest fear.

#loki #loki (marvel)#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki imagine #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #donna noble #tom hiddleston

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

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BTS Reaction: He Finds Out Another Member Used To Be Your Bias

Jin:

His smile grew when he found your old notepad in your bedroom at home, it was one of the old BTS books from their debut, yet as he turned the first page, he saw Hobi’s name written in the middle, with a heart around it.

“So, you used to like Hobi then?”

Your eyes widened when you saw what he found, snatching it from him, “I wouldn’t say I liked him, but he was my favourite at the start, I loved watching him dance on the stage.”

“I was the best dancer,” he argued, watching as your eyes rolled at him, “am I your favourite now, or do you still wish I were Hobi?”

You smirked across at him, “you know that you’re my favourite, Hobi was just a phase, I wanted to be a dancer just like he was, but now I want to be just like you.”

“You want to dance like me?” He teased, wrapping his arms around you, “can we please take this notebook to the studio next time we go.”

“Absolutely no way, the boys cannot find out about this,” you warned, snatching it from him, “they won’t ever let me forget about it.”

“I won’t let you forget.”

Yoongi:

He frowned as he read through some of your old tweets that the fans had found and sent him, they were from a good couple of years ago, bringing a smile to his face, turning to face you with a big grin on his face.

“Did you always thank Kookie was fit?”

You looked across at him in confusion, taking the phone that he handed across to you, reading through the tweets. “How did you manage to find them? They’re so old.”

“Fans sent then,” he chuckled, “I always knew you and Jungkook got on, but now I know why you look him so much, clearly it’s his good looks and sweet smile.

Your eyes rolled, cringing as he spoke, “please don’t read them out, you know that they were never intended for now, I never thought I’d date one of you guys.”

“It must hurt that I’m not Jungkook,” he continued to tease, watching your head shake as you tried to comfort him. “Stuck with Yoongi instead.”

“You know that’s not true, I’m with you because you’re much fitter than Jungkook, and your gummy smile is always my favourite smile.”

“If you say so jagi.”

Hoseok:

As soon as you showed him the old box of BTS merch you had from concerts, his eyes landed on the old plush you owned from the BT21 collection, Hobi picked it up, throwing it in the air to capture your attention.

“Let me guess who was your favourite?”

Your head shook, “all the Mang toys had sold out so I had to buy a Chimmy instead, if a Mang was there to buy, I would have got it straight away, because you’re my favourite.”

“So, it’s not that you used to prefer Jimin?” He joked, throwing the toy across the room, “if you wanted a Mang, you should have just asked me.”

You crawled across the room to grab the toy, “I think it would be a bit weird if I asked you now for one of your toys when I’m dating you, don’t you think?”

“It would stop you having a Chimmy,” he groaned as you took a hold of the toy, bringing it back, “I’m definitely getting you a bigger Mang plush to get rid of this thing.”

“If it would make you feel better, bring me a Mang,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I promise it will be my favourite.”

“It better be your favourite.”

Namjoon:

He couldn’t believe what he saw when you based him the photo, it was from a fansigning many years ago of you and Taehyung, it was clear you’d been crying with excitement, whilst he smiled anxiously by your side.

“This might be my favourite photo ever.”

Your eyes rolled, “I used to love Taehyung, I didn’t want to talk to any of you aside from Taehyung, I’m pretty sure I even asked the staff if I could skip all of you and just see Tae.”

“I’ve never felt so under appreciated in my life,” Joon laughed, recreating your expression in the photo, “do you think Taehyung remembers this?”

Your head shook rapidly, “I hope he doesn’t, and there is no way you’re showing him either. That photo is from a long time ago, things are very different now.”

“They better be, if you still liked Taehyung better than me, there’s no way I’d still be here,” he joked, feeling your arms wrap around him tightly.

“You’re my favourite member of BTS now, by far, nothing will change that,” you assured him, “you’re much better than Taehyung.”

“Damn right I’m better.”

Jimin:

When Jimin appeared at your door, your heart stopped, you let him in, knowing exactly what was in your living room. He stopped when he saw a poster of Jin laid out across the floor, turning to you to try and explain.

“What’s this all about?”

You sighed, “I was going through some of my old merchandise, and came across this, I couldn’t remember who was on it, so I unravelled it and then remembered buying it at my first concert.”

“Back when Jin was your bias,” he teased, snaking his arms around your waist, “don’t worry, I don’t mind, I hope you were throwing it out though.”

You nodded, turning back to face him, “I thought Jin might like it, he likes things like this with his face on to admire, might cheer him up a bit too.

“Don’t tell him that it’s yours though, he won’t ever let me forget it if he finds out you used to be his bias,” he requested, pressing several kisses to your cheek.

“It’s a secret, I’ll tell him a fan gave it to me to pass on,” you assured him, watching as the smile on his face grew.

“You’re the best, thank you.”

Taehyung:

You told him to open up your laptop to find something to watch, he did as he was told, only as he opened up your laptop, he found an old folder you had, titled Yoongi. He was intrigued but didn’t want to go behind your back.

“What’s in your Yoongi album on here?”

It was something you’d completely forgotten about, turning around to face him, “don’t open it, it’s no big deal, just pretend you’ve not just seen it.”

“It can’t be that big of a deal, I’ll just have a look,” he smiled, knowing exactly what was going to be in the folder, and all about Yoongi being a former bias of yours.

You shook your head, “don’t you dare Kim Taehyung, you think you’re being funny, but it’s not, you know that you’re just winding me up right now.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I won’t open it,” he spoke, opening up Netflix instead, “don’t worry, I know I’m your bias now, and that’s what matters to me.”

“You are my favourite, Yoongi is my second favourite,” you told him, “now can you just pick something for us to watch?”

“I’m already on it.”

Jungkook:

Introducing Jungkook to your family was terrifying, they were all staring across at him, from the moment he walked in they were trying to figure things out, you knew something was wrong, you just didn’t know what it was.

“Is everything alright with you both?”

Your mum smiled, “when you told us your boyfriend was in BTS, we were expecting to see that Namjoon guy here, we didn’t realise that you’d moved on from him to Jungkook.”

“Mum!” You shrieked in horror, turning to face Jungkook, “I told you ages ago I was with Jungkook, Namjoon was just a phase when I was only a fan.”

She nodded her head, “sorry darling, I don’t know much about all these bands anymore, the name Namjoon just stuck with your father and I.”

“I knew something was wrong, you actually thought I was going to bring Namjoon home?” You asked, as they both nodded, making you feel terrible.

Jungkook took a hold of your hand, “don’t feel awkward, it’s funny really that your parents thought I would be Namjoon.”

“I am so sorry Kook.”

---

Masterlist

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years ago

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Yancy x Illinois - First Impressions Aren’t Always the Best

I decided to try properly writing Yanois, just to see how I’d manage it. After rewatching Illinois’ scenes, I think he would get on the nerves of the Yancy I write at first.

Word Count 2,122

(Read more because Illinois talks so much...)

Happy Trails Penitentiary was renowned for its rehabilitation initiatives. They had a wide variety of classes and visitors to help prisoners. Educational courses, chances to learn new skills, pen pal projects. Many prisoners would never have the opportunity for such experiences, and it was an integral part of helping them prepare for a better life outside of prison when their sentence was finished.

There was one visitor that most prisoners in Yancy’s ‘Gang’ adored. His name was Illinois, a renowned adventurer and archaeologist. Between his job in the university and research trips, he only had time to visit once every few months. It worked in his favour, as those that wanted to visit were able to to hear the various stories that Illinois was more than happy to tell. Not only that, it would encourage the small ‘fan club’ among the younger prisoners.

It was one of the few events that Yancy avoided. Something about Illinois rubbed him the wrong way. He was so arrogant and cocky, acting like the world revolved around him. It wasn’t an act, either. Yancy had spotted Illinois speaking to the Warden on his first visit two years earlier, and he acted the exact same way as he did in the talk that happened that day. After that, Yancy decided he didn’t want anything to do with the adventurer. But if Illinois were to ever become an inmate? Yancy would make sure Illinois had the snot beaten out of him within the first week.

Unfortunately, a lot of the Gang were of the opposite view, especially those around Yancy’s age. To them, Illinois walked straight out of an adventure movie and lived the ideal life. What prisoner didn’t dream of going exploring in uncharted territories? It meant that they would frequently share Illinois’ tales in rec yard when he came to visit. Yancy would roll his eyes, but keep quiet. Let them have their fun.

Today was the day that Illinois visited the prison. It had been over three months since the last visit, so there was an excited buzz among individuals in the Gang. Yancy spent the morning bracing himself. There was a talk after lunch that the others would go to, which would mean the rest of the afternoon and evening would be nothing but historical chatter and “Illinois is so cool!”. He would grumble, but he would keep that to himself. It wasn’t fair to deflate their excitement. He went to the library, found some random book and focused on that for the day. Then, once they had their excitement, it would die down and Yancy could enjoy more casual conversation.

Which was the plan… Until Bam-Bam pleaded for him to go to the last talk of the day. It turned out that his shift clashed with the talk everyone else they knew went to, and he didn’t want to go alone. Begrudgingly, Yancy closed the book, returned it to the shelf, and followed Bam-Bam. A flaw of being a loyal friend was knowing when to swallow your pride and do something you would rather not do.

When you go to something with low expectations, it can be incredibly difficult to feel the time was used in a worthwhile manner. Some might have memories of a teacher they hated, or a family gathering they had been dreading. This was a similar position to what Yancy found himself in. One of the ‘classrooms’ had been adjusted slightly to allow various displays to take center stage, with the chairs in neat rows in front of it. Bam-Bam and Yancy claimed two seats at the back, allowing the greaser to slouch in the chair with his arms crossed. Then, once more prisoners had arrived, the talk began.

On and on Illinois went, droning endlessly in that slow drawl. Yancy wished he had a TV remote to speed up the talking a fraction. Was Illinois focused on making sure everyone could understand him, or did he want to prolong the joy of hearing himself talk? It might have been more tolerable if Bam-Bam wasn’t genuinely engrossed in the lecture. They could have made amusing comments throughout. Instead, Yancy was stuck. Sure, history was interesting, but Illinois really drove home the stereotype of boring history teachers. The ‘adventures’ even sounded cliché and fake. Maybe he should have taken the book with him after all...

A painfully slow half hour passed. Once the talk was over, Illinois would literally open the floor to the other prisoners. The chairs would be pushed aside and those that wanted to look at the items Illinois brought were welcome to do so. Yancy was dragged along to view the pieces. Most of the articles were dated to be approximately eight thousand years old. What caught Bam-Bam’s attention was a stone carving that vaguely resembled a cat.

“Ahhh, I see the ‘White Jaguar’ has caught your attention.” Yancy had to repress a shudder at the smooth voice interrupting their own questions back and forth. Illinois stepped over, resting an arm against the perspex container. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? A miracle we even found her in the first place. She was why I wasn’t able to visit like I said I would last month.” Bam-Bam’s eager question had Illinois chuckle and shake his hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure you two gentlemen have much better things to do than hear about how I nearly lost my right hand in my most recent adventure.” When Bam-Bam insisted otherwise, Illinois smirked (and Yancy nearly gagged).

“If you insist. While on our recent dig, I noticed one of the ruins had a floor panel that looked a little different from the rest. It took a little persuasion, but I got that pesky stone up. There, sprawled out before me, was a staircase leading down into the earth. I picked up one of the torches and made my way down. Slowly, I delved deeper into the darkness. One step gave way under me to set off a series of poison-dipped darts, but I was able to dodge them all without breaking a sweat.” Illinois continued, dramatically regaling every single trap that he encountered until he found the White Jaguar. When taking everything around it, he surmised that the owner of the house had been a thief. The jaguar motif was familiar, as he had noticed something similar in a nearby cave that had been repurposed at the time as a sacred spot.

“- Now, this heart of this cave was still guarded by ancient jaguar spirits. They rattled the large statues as I approached, obviously sensing the treasure I carried. In the middle, there was a jaguar’s head carved out of stone. Its jaw was open wide and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was just the right spot for this precious lady. But then, skeletons of what I assume were magic users from an era long gone by pounced and tried to wrestle the statue off me, but I was too fast for them. At last, I reached the carved head, put the White Jaguar in the mouth… and the stone head moved, trapping my arm in a ferocious bite!” He gestured to the cloth wrapped around his right wrist. It was unwrapped just enough to show the healing bite marks. “It had the strength to bite it clean off, but relented when it realised what I had done by offering my arm as blood payment to return -”

“Wait wait wait.” Yancy’s interruption had Bam-Bam elbow him, but it didn’t stop the objection. “That can’t be right. If youse managed to bring this back to where it’s meant to be, why the fuck is it here?”

“An excellent question. This is my recreation of it. I am no thief. I return artefacts to where they belong. Archaeology has a rotten connection with thievery, and I try to rectify the mistakes of my predecessors.”

“So then this entire thing could be bullshit!” Yancy scoffed. “Bam-Bam, this guy just got bitten by someone’s dog and has made this pile of baloney to hide that.”

“Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

“Well, I ain’t calling you a ‘truther’, that’s for sure!”

Yancy was ready for a proper argument. In fact, he was hoping for one. Instead… Illinois laughed, and it wasn’t that typical ‘cocky chuckle’. It was a bright, genuine laugh. He could almost see Bam-Bam go starry-eyed at such a rare moment. Typical Yancy. Getting more attention from Illinois when he wanted to rile him up.

“I suppose it all does sound rather suspicious when you put it that way. Let me show you something.” Illinois gestured for the pair to follow him toward a display of photographs. Instead of pointing to these, he instead reached for his briefcase. A small photo album was pulled out. Yancy noticed that it was dated three months prior. While Illinois flipped through it, both prisoners could see what looked like an area that had been dug up. It matched the pictures in front of them of an excavation site. At last, Illinois found what he was looking for.

“One Guardian Jaguar, complete with the White Jaguar in its mouth. As you can see, the teeth have fresh blood on them. It was an… Oddly tranquil sight, despite the unfortunate situation.”

“So then why act like these are the real deal? People just take youse’s word for it?”

“Normally those that attend my talks know that what I show are my artistic recreations for purely educational purposes. I suppose I do take for granted that those who attend here are invested regulars.” Illinois gave a small shrug. “It’s an easy mistake to forget to remind people who might be new to my talks. I’m sorry if you thought I was a fraud, but I am the real deal. Too good to be true, yet here I am.”

“Yeah yeah, ‘sucks that I’m perfect as shit’, I get it. Least you knows not to make that mistake again.” Yancy rocked back on his heel with the intention of turning and walking away.

“Now now. I can’t let you walk off like that. Take this.” Another item was pulled out of his briefcase. “I made this smaller model of the White Jaguar as a ‘first draft’. I was intending on using it as motivation to my first-year students but… I think it should stay here with you.” Illinois took the opportunity to reach for Yancy’s hand. The small clay model was gently placed in it before Illinois curled Yancy’s fingers over it to keep it in place. His hands stayed where they were as he continued, “We think the White Jaguar was a symbol of good fortune. Perhaps it might bring you some good luck.” He smiled at Yancy, only to have the moment broken by the guard announcing that there were five minutes before the prisoners had to return to their cells for the afternoon count. Yancy took the chance to quickly leave the room without as much as a ‘goodbye’. At least his friend, who introduced himself as Bam-Bam, quickly thanked Illinois before darting out.

A few more questions were asked of him by other prisoners and curious staff; and then it was time to tidy up to bring everything back to the university. It was only when he reached the White Jaguar model did Illinois hesitate. There was something about that abrasive prisoner he couldn’t put his finger on. Was it because he seemed uninterested in the adventurer? Or was there something else? It was a rare moment that Illinois wished he’d had an excuse to chat to the prisoner longer. Maybe not here, but somewhere quieter. Just the two of them.

Huh… Was this what an attraction felt like? He joked about others falling in love with him so often, he wasn’t sure if this was payback for never returning interest in others. He was drawn toward a prisoner that seemed keen to dismiss his hard work and reputation. And worse! Illinois didn’t even know his name!

Then again… A good adventurer always loves the thrill of a mystery. Maybe he could try and find that prisoner next time he visited. Now that the university was open again, he’d be able to drop by more frequently…

For what it was worth, Yancy also had a mystery on his hands.

Namely, how to get away from Bam-Bam - who would not SHUT UP about their prolonged conversation with Illinois - and half the gang - who were incredibly jealous Yancy got a gift from the Illinois!

He dropped his head against the chow hall table with a low ‘thunk’. This was the opposite of getting the others to stop talking about Illinois around him!

#writersofmark #yancy #illinois ahwm #yanois #markiplier egos #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )#dramatic prisoner (Yancy)#cocky adventurer (Illinois)

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insomniziam · 4 years ago

Text

Analysis of the PR Relationship between Liam and Maya

Okay, Liam and Maya made their relationship official in September 2019 through Liam’s Instagram post:

(notice how there are only two points of contact on his behalf, the two fingers on her waist and their foreheads. Doesn’t come off very relationship-y to me. I can’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this were photo shopped)

Conveniently, this news came to light a few days after the release of his new single at the time, Stack it Up (shocker, I know). And what did we get? The same thing that happened with Zigi:

Bringing attention to Liam’s new single and of course, the new up and coming model (sound familiar to you at all?)

Maya Henry

But who is Maya Henry? The first real news we ever get about her is due to her father spending a whopping 6 million dollars on her fifteenth birthday party back in 2016 (more on that later). But what does this prove? That her father is incredibly rich, and has no issues spending millions of dollars on a single night if it means getting his name in the papers. He hasn’t just done this with Maya, he spent another 4 million on his son’s 18th and another 4.5 million on his own 56th birthday, and both somehow made headlines (paid promo maybe?)

That’s not even the best part... They tried to do their own Kardashian style reality TV show but it flopped massively.

(Literally the only place I could find it anywhere was dailymotion...)

They have a Facebook page, but most of the videos have been set to private on YouTube so you can’t watch pretty much anything on the page anyway. There’s probably on average 50 interactions per post (and that’s me being generous).

Maya started her own YouTube channel early 2018, but that didn’t gain any traction either (it’s currently sitting at 16K) and there are no videos on the page at all (I’m pretty sure she’s deleted them off, although I can’t find copies of them any where, probably because no one actually cared to download them).

I will admit, she was doing pretty decently before she was connected to Liam, had even done a few international covers for magazines like Elle Romania and Vogue Ukraine.

But Gigi had walked the New York Fashion runway at the age of 18, a feat Maya herself didn’t seem to be nearing. However, Gigi also has a lot of connections that no doubt helped her gain a following (her “friendship” with the Jenners, as well as her connections with Swift and her mean girl posse).

(If ya’ll don’t see how this was a publicity stunt, I don’t know what to tell you)

But how does an increase of following help you career wise, isn’t about talent? You may ask, and I would have a hard time not chuckling at the question, because talent has nothing to do with it (Miss Gigi “I’m still learning how to cat walk” Hadid is a testament to that).

As for the answer, an increase in following leads to an increase of fans, which leads to an increased likelihood of more people buying the shit her name is attached to - makeup, accessories, clothing lines ect. - and increased viewership that have her (and her ‘best friends’) starring in. *cough* Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show *cough*.

But one thing in particular that really stood out, was Gigi’s ‘relationship’ with one Zayn Malik... you see where this is going?

Why Liam?

Now, unlike Zayn, Liam didn’t really have any bad press he needed to distract the general public from. However, he pretty much only had three different talking points in interviews; ‘his son’, Cheryl and One Direction. Those three subjects no one really cared to listen to anymore, because it was the same bullshit over and over again. Enter new (but also extremely old) topic: a new girlfriend!

It gave the papers something new to talk about (although funnily enough, they would always end the article talking about Cheryl and her kid), someone Liam could use to promote himself a little more. So although the benefits were heavily leaning to her side, there still was something in it for Liam, and she had already been linked to him in the past, an easy set up.

Maya’s Age (this is where you’ll either feel really grossed out or extremely pissed, fair warning)

Now this is where shit gets hella shady. According to articles, Maya has been 19 since last year:

Using the fact that Maya’s 15th birthday was in 2016 as according to this Daily Mail article detailing all the expenses and a little bit of quick math, it’s easy to see that she only turned 19 in February of this year.

Now, your eyebrows might be furrowed right now, and you may be asking why does her age matter?She’s still a legally consenting adult. However according to articles, Liam and Maya had actually met back in 2015 at a One Direction Meet and Greet:

Sound familiar at all?:

This shit has me feeling sick to my stomach (I did give you a fair warning) because this is the second time Liam has been linked in some way to what some could argue somewhat child grooming behaviour. Because not only did he meet her back in 2015, when she was actually 14 despite what the papers are trying to tell you she was 15, he apparently started dating her back in 2018, when she was 17 years old:

Realising their mistake, my guess is that Liam’s team tried their best to have her birthday changed a year earlier, so as to make people think they started dating when she was 18, to make their relationship more acceptable. But the damage had already been done, and when someone made a thread on their twitter pointing out this fact, some absolute idiot decided to use Liam’s twitter to try and discredit them:

Despite the fact that neither Liam or Maya were tagged in the thread, meaning that whoever was behind the keyboard would have had to go searching for it, especially since the thread probably only had a few hundred interactions before, they drew eyes to it. (The tinhat in me wants to believe that this was actually a smart move made by Liam to show people just how shady their relationship is, but I highly doubt that fact considering how creepy it makes him look 😒)

And, because people were smart enough to actually read through the thread, they weren’t buying what whoever was running the account at the time was selling:

It’s not a good look, but I guess any press is good press according to Liam’s team.

Conclusion

Maya and her family are crazy thirsty for attention. They tried to acquire that attention through spending millions of dollars on birthdays parties to gain headlines. Obviously not enough for them, they tried out their own reality TV show which somehow made it to season two before scrapping the whole thing entirely due to low ratings. Maya started a YouTube channel, it didn’t go as well as she hoped and then focused on Modelling full time. However she wasn’t climbing anywhere near as much as she would like, and since her father had no issues paying for celebrities in the past, probably had no issues with paying Liam’s team for him to play boyfriend, and try to recreate a Zigi situation.

Liam’s team saw this as an opportunity for a new subject to be brought up in interviews and headlines and decided to go for it. They fucked up with the age, tried to fix it and just made the situation worse, and hoped eventually everyone would just forget about it.

At least, that’s my best guess

#this took me a lot longer than it should have #laya #laya is fake #liam payne #maya henry #pr relationships #bearding #with a sprinkle #zigi #zigi is fake #laya is zigi 2.0 #gigi hadid #zayn malik #free Liam #ziam #ziam is real

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nicknellie · 4 years ago

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Honestly when Tumblr crashed I just thought it was my Internet being wonky but that stinks that it got rid of everything you said, I completely agree it’s really fun to bounce ideas off of each other.

Agreed, although the show kind of says that Luke wrote the songs that Julie mentioned I feel like the band probably did help out with those songs but those exact ones may have been a bit personal to Luke hence the extreme reaction ‘My Name is LUKe’. However an idea that I have is that Alex write songs as well (also just because I want his version of unsaid Emily in my life) (and the show mentions that Reggie wrings county music) also it would make more sense for the band to bounce ideas off of each other (as we see Luke do with Julie) then just Luke writing every single part of those songs by himself. also the show never really confirms when he wrote the songs so easily could be that he wrote them while he was still grieving because he was thinking that was the best way to honour them and then later down the road he realized that wasn’t the best. And the show doesn’t mention if he gave money to charities in their name or what he did just that he didn’t give them credit.

I agree I feel like part of it may have been that he didn’t want their deaths following him because reporters would definitely be like oh how are you recovering and etc. also as you said he was going through a lot of trauma from losing his family and although that may not have been a lot of people’s gut reaction it is understandable. I just think that’s how the boys saw it just because unexpectedly they hear that someone stole their songs and then all the sudden it’s not someone who’s not close to them but someone who it feels like they stabbed them in the back kind of.

Honestly the fact that he meditates is kind of what made me think of the idea just because he would be able to calm himself and think rationally which I don’t feel like Luke and Reggie could do if they thought someone who they cared about was hurt. Maybe back then it was Bobby and Alex who shared the single brain cell that was Sunset Curve (but only Bobby when Alex was upset any other time he was just as chaotic as Luke and Reggie)

Crossword: that is totally what Reggie would do and he would totally just blurred out the words before Alex even had a chance to think about them just because he loves Alex so much and he was so excited. (Also I feel like Reggie would be the sentimental one who would make a scrapbook and just give Alex a photo album to show that no matter what they will always be here for them)

Reggie owns so many flannels, yes!! (also double yes, because I definitely feel like those piece meant something to them especially if that’s what they had before they died, also it would just be so adorable if the band members just gave each other items to show support and unconditional love)

Awe, now I’m thinking about Bobby sobbing after they passed just because he loved them so much and that for the longest time he couldn’t get back into knitting or jewelry making because it reminded him of the boys (similar to how Julie couldn’t play music after her mom passed)

Necklace: But he definitely would, he probably put so much research into it as well and chose colours that held meaning and stuff, also the necklace helped Reggie so much when his parents were arguing because just like with Alex’s bracelet they were made with love and it remindes him that he always has a place to go.

Yes, when Luke ran away they were all sobbing however that’s exactly what they did. You described it perfectly, also because I feel like it’s canon that Alex gives the best hugs so he was giving Luke huge hugs while Reggie was trying to distract Luke and Bobby was trying to figure out arrangements. (also I feel like Alex would help Bobby would as soon as he can, I feel like Reggie would try to get movie night as a way to distract Luke).

With the jigsaw I could definitely see Luke trying to pretend like he isn’t interested well just focusing on Bobby putting the jigsaw away. (The point with Reggie is perfect and reminds me of that meme with the guy who is looking at a butterfly and it’s just Reggie being like is this a reason to get distracted and then dropping the jigsaw)

Yeah I totally agree that the mentioned ones were more personal. I reckon all of their songs came from some sort of struggle and to have that kind of erased when they weren’t mentioned must have been another thing that really hurt them when they found out what had happened. So yeah, I think they would all bounce ideas off each other (when they would all talk again after one of their quiet jigsaw/knitting/crossword/Rubik’s Cube sessions) and Luke would sort of put the pieces together to make the song. When Julie says ‘none of his latest stuff is as good’ I think that maybe Bobby had been trying to emulate their old song-writing sessions, trying to recreate the way they had given each other ideas and stuck them all together, but it just wasn’t quite working with just him because he couldn’t make it alone. Which maybe is when he realised even further that it had been the wrong thing to do, not credit them for their music. He would definitely write out of grief and pain and then later realise that he hadn’t really done them justice or kept their memories alive in the way he had tried to because he had unwittingly done everything he could to erase them. I’ve thought in the past that Mitch Patterson would have set up some sort of charity or foundation in Luke’s name that set to bring help and music to kids in need and now that you’ve mentioned charities I have decided that Trevor/Bobby makes hefty donations to that whenever he can.

An Unsaid Emily-style Alex song would kill me. His would be more focused on how his parents view of him changed. I headcanon that Alex’s parents were very kind and loving and they doted on Alex. They loved him with all their hearts and none of them ever thought that would change, so he was confident when he came out to them. But obviously they weren’t cool with it and we get very little detail about what happened next. I think Alex would have written about his memories and how lonely it felt and how shattered he was that he hadn’t been accepted. There’d be undertones about him missing them and missing the old days and part of him wishing he’d never told them (although he is really glad that he did).

Yeah, you’re totally right about the fact that he didn’t want their deaths following him. For a teenager to be thrown into stardom is one thing, to be constantly bombarded about his trauma would have been another. It wasn’t that he wanted to escape the boys or forget them, he wanted his memories of them to remain untainted by flashing cameras and cruel interviews. And YES, that brings us back to the fact that they’ve grown at different rates and the last two and a half decades were nothing for the boys but likely hell on Earth for Bobby. The guy they used to know is suddenly someone seeming cold and distant and because they didn’t experience losing each other they can’t understand how it must have been for him to lose them. They never really give themselves a chance to see it from Bobby’s perspective - even when they begin to move on in episode 6 Luke says Bobby ‘has to live with that guilt’, he immediately discards it as a bad thing and none of them begin to rationalise his actions. They don’t make any effort to see the situation from Bobby’s point of view (although admittedly I can’t imagine that would be an easy thing to do).

Totally - Bobby and Alex shared the brain cell but Bobby was the only be who could really use it to it’s full potential. He was so ready to be there for all of them when they needed it. Luke and Reggie would want to fight the problem head on while Bobby knew it was best to take their time and figure it out like one of Alex’s beloved jigsaw puzzles.

Kind of off-topic but I think he’s very spiritual too (I kind of get it from the meditating in a way I can’t quite explain) and if he wasn’t so certain that he was finally losing it after all those years of guilt then he would have believed and been happy that the boys were back as ghosts when they haunted him. Like he thinks rationally until it comes to supernatural stuff and then he’s all over the idea of ghosts and monsters.

Omg ok the scrapbooking!!!!! I am so here for this!!!!! Reggie had tons of scrapbooks and photo albums - he writes silly little captions underneath the photos, gets Bobby to make things that can be stuck in as decorations, and will take a camera with him wherever he goes. I think cameras were very different in the nineties and I wasn’t born then so idk how it all works but didn’t you have to go somewhere to get them developed?? Well, Reggie loved doing that and he’d always get one of the boys to come with him so when he saw the photos for the first time he would have someone to look through them with. He made special scrapbooks for special occasions: Alex’s coming out, Christmases, birthdays, holidays they all went on together. He would collect things and add in little envelopes to the scrapbook if it wasn’t flat enough to be stuck in. He kept everything from tickets to candy wrappers because he wanted to remember everything they all did together.

I definitely think the boys’ signature clothing is important to them. Reggie loved his flannels and his favourite was from the boys; Alex loved his hoodie which the boys got him (and his fanny pack may have been a gift from them too so he wouldn’t have to carry whatever’s in there all the time); our theory that Bobby was the one who knitted Luke’s beanies. It makes me wonder if Bobby had anything from them he still wears. He probably would have grown out of clothes, but maybe his sunglasses were a gift? Or they made his necklaces? Or he has a jacket that used to be one of theirs and still fits him?

Oh my god no that hurts 😭 Bobby trying to make himself a necklace or bracelet out of colours that reminded him of them (pink for Alex, blue for Luke, red for Reggie) but his hands shaking so much that he can’t thread the beads and had to stop. Him trying over and over again but not being able to do it because he gets bombarded with memories about Luke knocking over all his beads that one time, or Reggie accidentally breaking the clasp on his necklace so Bobby had to replace it, or the tears in Alex’s eyes when he was given that rainbow bracelet. Oh my GOD.

Alex definitely gives the best hugs. I would kill for an Alex hug. For a while, Luke just needed to be held so Alex did that, Reggie started talking about something completely unrelated, and Bobby started making phone calls and looking things up to find out what the best way forward was. Alex of course helped, like you said, as soon as Luke was fine to be left with just Reggie. I feel like it was kind of similar within the band - Bobby was the one who booked gigs and made deals, he did all the managerial stuff while the others focused more on the performances and the music. He missed rehearsals because of meetings with record execs or whatever sometimes but he could pick things up very quickly so it didn’t really matter.

And because I couldn’t not do this:

(Also is it cool with you if I make a mini masterlist of all these things we’ve said? I’m definitely going to want to find these again but at some point they’ll be buried deep within my blog so I want easy access lol)

#anon #asks #emily answers #sunset curve #bobby wilson #I took so long writing this that my phone charged by 50%

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raygoodwinmajournal · 4 years ago

Photo

101 - Psychogeography and Walking Photographic Practice

It is funny how ideas, thoughts and philosophies can eventually find themselves to meld together with one’s own practice - even from years ago. When I started taking photography seriously, I didn’t necessarily have an aim to where I was going or what I was going to shoot. I enjoyed the idea of just going out with my camera, and taking photos of things that I find within the environment that I would find myself in. This was heightened by my previous interest in street photography, which was mostly inspired by watching countless hours of DigitalRev TV videos on YouTube, with Kai and Lok wandering the streets of Hong Kong reviewing camera equipment with a comedic and sarcastic tone which I enjoyed. By watching these videos, I was inspired to just go out with my camera and see what I could find, almost as if I was hunting for that particular shot. What was different then, was that I was photographing people which is completely on the different end of the photographic spectrum that I undertake now.

Man with Cat - September 2016 - Canon EOS 650, 50mm F1.8 STM - Ilford XP2 Super

Eventually, I would undertake this practice of going out with my camera to an undisclosed location with an old friend of mine, Thom. Before the lockdown ridden restricted world we live in now, I would hop on a train, travel to places such as Exeter, Teignmouth, Torquay, Newton Abbot and Plymouth to meet up with him and wander around to different locations, often accompanied with some VSOP fuelled coffee and miscellaneous ramblings about philosophy and pop culture. At the time, I didn’t realise what I was undertaking and that it was also being practiced by many other people, and there was a whole philosophy around it and where it all came from. It wasn’t until I researched more into what psychogeography was, I learned that it was Guy Debord that coined and refined the term - a person who I researched in my earlier work around The Society of the Spectacle, which focused on the society being a spectacle, commodity fetishism and loosely recycled ideas of Marxism. Another aspect which relates to psychogeography is the flaneur; one who saunters around and observes society. Sound familiar?

Psychogeography is the melding of psychology and geography, both things that would seemingly be unrelated, but by putting them together, we find a term which has its aim on how a particular space makes us feel and what the space really is upon inspection. Often, we drift from place to place without really taking in what we are seeing or feeling. These are often non-places, which Marc Auge hypotheses in Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity. Auge sets out to describe how it is that our stage of modernity creates transitional and temporary spaces, particularly motorways, shopping centres and transportation terminals. These are just a few examples of spaces where time isn’t spent in large quantities, places where we are transitioning from A to Z, where these spaces are somewhere between B to Y, often of little notoriety and mostly anonymous in location. These non-places are sometimes barren, with no people around, quiet and uncanny. Feelings of being isolated, alienated, estranged and listless are just some emotions that can be felt in these depersonalised landscapes, but only if one can really take in their surroundings to just what it is they are surrounded by.

It is of course no secret that I undertake a walking practice. More often than not, I don’t have a bulletproof plan for what it is that I am looking for. Usually, I head in a direction and see what happens. This is because I like to observe my surroundings and take in what is around me, and to see what invokes the feelings and emotions that I want to convey. This means that I end up in some strange places, with the feelings only heightened by what I am listening to through my headphones, or the deafening silence if not. On the odd occasion, I would trawl through Google Earth, dropping pins on potential locations which could work. This can only be found out if I walk to these particular locations and what I can find on the way, yet as Street View sometimes hasn’t been updated since 2009, some places simply either don’t exist or have been changed completely. But, this brings up an interesting area to psychogeography, which is the history of the place which can often turn into a palimpsest of itself.

Plymouth is a good example of a geographic palimpsest, as Plymouth’s history is rich and varied, and being mostly destroyed during the many air raids undertaken by the Luftwaffe, the city had to be completely rebuilt with Sir Patrick Abercrombie and James Paton Watson setting an ambitious plan to make Plymouth a hive of activity and a city to marvel. The main city was surrounded by a loop, with a central spine running through. The remains of the historic buildings were replaced with concrete brutalist monoliths and limestone structures, with some traces of the past surviving the brutal attacks on the city. An example of this is Charles Church, which was mostly destroyed in 1941 from incendiary bombs, but now acts as a memorial to those that died during the raids, and takes pride of place in a roundabout, directing traffic across the city and also being mostly inaccessible due to the high rate of traffic. Yet, the church is surrounded by contemporary architecture which are often labelled as ugly or terribly designed, such as Drake Circus winning the first ever Carbuncle Cup, voted as the worst new building in the United Kingdom in 2006 (Designing Buildings, 2020).

At the core of psychogeography, is how the location plays upon one’s psyche, to really take in what it is that surrounds us and observing details about how it is created, what features within it and how being put together, it makes one feel. It is only by walking to these places we can truly exist in the temporary spaces, with Will Self describing the walker as ‘an insurgent against the contemporary world, an ambulatory time traveller.’ (Independent, 2011). Iain Sinclair is a notable name within the psychogeographical field, walking the entirety of the M25 which encompasses London and noting what he felt and saw, noting the opening on the M25 was ‘the end of London and its liberties’ (Guardian, 2003), with the M25 replacing the Thames’ job of shifting contraband and illegal/legal cargo and acting as a circle road that doesn’t go anywhere, with people often getting stuck in their cars, trapped in traffic.

Chelson Meadow - December 2020 - Mamiya 7ii, 65mm F4 , Ilford XP2 Super

The M25 is often surrounded by obscenery, which is a scene filled with obscenity and things which are considered to be obscene. Sinclair cites the Beckton Alp as a good example of obscenery. Beckton Alp is a heap of old gas spoils from the Beckton Gas Works, creating a toxic and lurid ominous mound which found a brief second life as a ski slope for budding ski enthuiasts, and where Stanley Kubric filmed the battle scene at the end of Full Metal Jacket (Guardian, 2003). The Beckton Alp is just one of many inhospitably dangerous aspects that we have created since the industrial revolution, which mirrors Chelson Meadow. Previously reclaimed land and a horse racetrack, it later became a landfill site where it was tufted over with millions of tons of topsoil and turf, with gas escaping from the landfill beneath going back into the National Grid. Upon a quick glance, it looks like a naturally formed hill, but just like Beckton Alp, it is a toxic and harmful mass of detritus and hazardous waste which upon appearance seems like a lovely place for recreation. It is only by walking, acting as a flaneur and using a form of psychogeography can we see these spaces and the impact that they have, as without really looking at what our urban spaces are made of, they are just that; urban spaces. It is only when you deconstruct what it is that manufacturers these spaces, can we allow ourselves to feel and note how it affects our psyche. It also goes back into the space being a palimpsest, either showing parts of its history obviously or obscured by changes over time. This history of the site is as relevant as it is now, as it gives the location a context with how it was then, compared to how it is now.

I have come to the realisation that I am a photographic psychogeographer, or photographic flaneur, with a similar practice to Iain Sinclair where I walk to locations, observe what is around me and how it makes me feel. The spaces that I often find myself by getting lost on the way are isolating from the usually busy streets of the city, mostly being quiet housing estates or derelict industrial estates. Most of the time, these are places where time doesn’t seem to exist, as if it stands still as the wind blows leaves and litter across the road. Without looking at the space with the gaze of a psychogeographer, the place is inherently anonymous and of little notoriety, frequently being unnoticed by the layman and rarely inspected. What I intend to do with my photography is to explore these locations by sauntering from place to place, and invoking feelings of estrangement, isolation, alienation and political malaise of which our system is responsible for, with the spaces reflecting these feelings due to the depersonalised and dehumanised landscapes. And similarly to Sinclair, I document my findings and experiences from the locations that I visit, but in a more catatonic and frantic fashion about how the location plays upon my psyche and reflects upon our state of supermodernity. What Epochal Territories is intended to do is to explore the relationship between these spaces and the feelings that modernity creates, and how modernity is often unfulfilling and laden with ennui. The starkness of the space is also reflected by the monochromatic nature of the photograph, as there is no colour and no joy to be seen, only the territories of the epoch.

Bibliography

Carbuncle Cup (2020). [Online]. Available at https://www.designingbuildings.co.uk/wiki/Carbuncle_Cup. [Accessed on 12/03/2021]

Sinclair, I., (25/10/2003). A circular story. The Guardian. The Guardian. [Online]. Available at http://www.theguardian.com/books/2003/oct/25/featuresreviews.guardianreview27. [Accessed on 12/03/2021]

The Independent (17/09/2011). PsychoGeography: Will Self and Ralph Steadman take Manhattan. [Online]. Available at https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/features/psychogeography-will-self-and-ralph-steadman-take-manhattan-5339307.html. [Accessed on 12/03/2021]

#101

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lucy-and-loki · 4 years ago

Photo

Hello everybody! This is my submission for the Far Cry 5 fanzine ‘Tales From the Bunker’, which can be downloaded for free! it was a pleasure to work with you all on this project, and I especially had a lot of fun making all the titles, character prepper stash gems and trigger warning graphics for all your fics :D

A massive thank you to @farcrying for the beautiful illustration and to @unclefungusthegoat for putting this project together!

Please also check it out on AO3!

Title: long live the weeds and the wilderness yet

Pairing: Rachel/Tracey, Faith/Tracey

Synopsis: Years after the world changed forever, Tracey Lader reminisces about her stint at Breakthough Camp for Troubled Young People... and the silver-tongued girl who’d lain down in the grass beside her.

Word Count: 883

Tags: Written like a Tracey’s Travels note, referenced drug use, referenced child abuse, POV First Person, the world needed more Rachel/Tracey and I’m happy to provide

* * * * *

At orientation, they’d told us we’d probably die young.

The folks at Breakthrough Camp never were ones to mince their words. Apparently, we’d needed the harsh truths of life, if we were ever to get ourselves back on the ‘right path’. Needed to come together as ‘troubled young people’, to ensure we went on to lead long, productive and righteous lives.

Rachel and I... to the rest of the world, we were the definition of troubled. And that had made them all the more desperate to detox even the slightest hint of rebellion from us.

Two weeks into our ‘rehabilitation’, they’d tried to get us to make flower chains.

Supposedly it ‘grounded us in nature’. Made us appreciate the world for all of its beauty, so we wouldn’t drug ourselves into a stupor just to escape it.

Of course, we hadn’t seen it like that. There seemed something pretty messed up about making your own shackles, especially when you were trapped in some watered down, saccharine version of juvie. We ditched them first chance we got. Ended up sprawled on the recreation field instead. Out of earshot and away from the disappointed gazes of the camp leaders.

Rachel had lain quietly in the long grass, unconcerned about getting stains on her back. I had sat beside her, hood up, resolutely ignoring the beads of sweat forming at my hairline.

“I hate flowers.”

Her voice had been soft, but her words had been sharply punctuated by the dirt she’d torn up from the ground and tossed aside. I hadn’t been surprised. Not when she’d told me her parents spent more time locked in their greenhouses, tending to their orchids, than they did tending to their child.

She’d even sworn to me once that her parents tested out their floral medicines on her.

I could never quite work out if she was telling the truth.

Something about this statement had rung false too.

“What the fuck’s that then?”

I had pointed back towards our cabin. Atop the window sill, bathed in hot summer sunlight, had sat a potted flower. Other than her clothes, it was the only thing Rachel had brought with her from home.

She’d looked me right in the eyes.

“A moonflower. It’s a weed.” As if I could tell the difference. A small, sad smile had crept onto her face. “Unwanted and unloved...like us.”

And poisonous, as I would come to realise.

Weeks later, we had left the camp more determined than ever to live the way we wanted to. Like weeds, we would stubbornly root ourselves into the earth, track marks on our arms and pure bliss in our bloodstreams. It was us against the world. Blocking out the ticking clock of mortality, and embracing the short lives we knew we’d been saddled with.

Rachel had said she would follow me anywhere. And follow she did; to California and back, and through the tall, iron gates of Eden.

Until one day, she didn’t.

I escaped from the jaws of Hell before it all really went to shit. Turned my back on the destructive promises Rachel and I had made to one another. Somehow found my way to a path that looked vaguely like the one they’d told us about at Breakthrough Camp all those years ago. I remember thinking the camp leaders would’ve been proud. Especially when I’d stood side by side with them, gun in my hand, fighting for the world they believed in.

In my own way, I had blossomed.

But Rachel...Rachel embraced her nature. On the outside - barefoot, and in bridal-white lace - she was as beautiful as I had ever seen her. When she spoke, I could almost hear the same girl I’d known for so long. Gentle and naive, preaching of peace. But, in truth, she had thrived; worming into places she wasn’t wanted, spreading like nettle rash on skin. Burying herself into the minds of people who’d once treated her like trash.

They called her the Father’s faithful flower girl. Finally needed. Finally loved. She’d even worn pink petals on her dress. Made me wonder whether I’d ever truly known her at all.

Clearly she hadn’t known me. Not if she’d gone looking for love, when it was there - hood up and reclined in the long grass - beside her all along.

Years later, and far from Hope County, I would sit and stare out of my cabin window. Savouring the quiet; thinking about how fucked up the world had truly become. Still amazed that, somehow, I had lasted long enough to witness the dawn of a new era.

I left everything behind when I finally decided to break free. Left the ruins of my house, my car, and what remained of Fall’s End. I even scattered my old photo collection around for people to find. Pieces of not-so-buried treasure, to remind everyone of how it once was. To show them the harsh truths of the new world, so they would begin to find their way back to better paths.

I left everything.

Everything except my worn comfy hoodie, one of Virgil’s buttons, now rusty and faded...and a rare moonflower, that sat on my window sill in a shell-shattered pot.

Withered, browning, and abandoned to wilt in the blazing sunshine, far before it’s time.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #fc5 fanfic #faith seed #tracey lader #far cry 5 fanzine #rachel x tracey #faith x tracey #my stuff #my writing

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 5 years ago

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sour undertones - klaine oneshot

AN: this work is based off of a piece of fanart by animateglee

words: 1723

summary: Kurt finds Blaine’s diary and is surprised at what he finds there. Blaine thought it was good at the time, I mean, he got an A in creative writing from Miss Eavesbridge once! (quarantine fic)

The days have been long for the both of them, and it’s not like he was snooping, really, he wasn’t. He was bored.

Ever since the lockdown had started in New York, Kurt felt like he was going to go mad. His apartment with Blaine was only small (despite their success and newfound fame, prices to live in the city were still ridiculously high) and there was only so much they could do in such a tiny space. After multiple different jigsaw puzzles and games of monopoly and other miscellaneous things that didn’t involve sitting around and scrolling through Instagram, he was starting to go a little bit crazy.

It was also hard for them - they were different types of people; Kurt was an extrovert… and well, Blaine… not so much. For Blaine, it was much easier; he would happily sit around at home all day keeping himself busy doing nothing much at all.

But Kurt, he thrived on socialisation, on meeting new people, new faces and interesting personalities. He was growing tired. So he wasn’t surprised when he found himself searching through the shelves and bits of storage in their tiny home, not really knowing what he was looking for.

He found lots of old things knocking around in their draws - a photo album of their first year together as a couple, and smiled as he looked through the miscellaneous memories that had been captured and saved, something to hold onto for all their lives. The receipt from their one of their many dates, a recipe book Kurt had given to Blaine one year for his birthday in their old loft in Bushwick, and Kurt was a little offended to find it hidden away in a random draw next to their bed, but then he decided to search some more.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t seen it before, but it was a beautiful thing, a notebook with a leather covering and writing on the front, stuck on with different clippings of letters from headlines of newspapers, and Kurt laughed to himself as it reminded him of The Burn Book from Mean Girls. A guilty pleasure of his, if he was being honest.

However, this expression changed as he opened the notebook. He saw on the very first page, ‘property of Blaine Devon Anderson’ scribbled messily onto the parchment. Around it was lots of different doodles and hearts and other little drawings that made Kurt smile. Then he turned the page, realising what he was actually looking at.

15th March 2011

Dear Diary,

Kurt’s eyes widened as he recognised the date. That date was special to them. He recognised it, even more so, when he read the words ‘I kissed Kurt today!’ in big, capital letters, confirming why it was so special to them. That was when he burst out laughing, deciding to read on. Half of him felt bad for reading through his husband’s diary from nine years ago, but dammit - they were husbands! It was healthy to have some secrets in a relationship, he thought. Reading again, a big smile lit up his face.

I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now. I’ve been so oblivious all this time, and only now I’ve realised how much I appreciate him. I can’t believe that this might turn into a real thing soon! And hopefully, his feelings are the same. I mean, they would be, wouldn’t they? He did kiss me back. Twice. Anyway, I think I love him. He’s beautiful, and his eyes are so blue…

Kurt was aware that his face was probably lit up like a Christmas tree, but he didn’t care. His now-husband had written about him in his diary on the day of their first kiss. He was allowed to be happy.

“Kurt?”

It was only then that Kurt closed the notebook abruptly, jumping up from where he was sat on the floor against the bed, dumping it on the floor and turning to face Blaine, who had now walked into the room.

“What are you doing?”

Oh god. Kurt looked suspicious. He was fully aware of that. He was trying to wipe his sweaty palms on his trousers (even if they weren’t allowed outside, didn’t mean his fashion game was going to falter) and his eyebrows were raised up far too high as he tried to keep a sense of nonchalance about his aura but failing.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” He smiled. The tension in the room was suffocating. He shouldn’t have been nervous, really, he shouldn’t have, but Blaine was standing there looking very worried and curious and Kurt wasn’t ready for whatever would happen next.

Blaine frowned, moving closer to Kurt.

“You’re acting weird. What’s going—”

He paused as he realised the notebook on the floor. He looked at it, sitting there, then back at his husband, whose eyes were now comically wide, and they stared at each other incredulously.

“Kurt, I swear to fucking god—”

Kurt broke the tension by letting out a giggle, deciding teasing was the best way to go about this situation. He bent down and picked up the notebook from the floor, and continued to read the page he’d been reading, but out loud to Blaine this time.

“So, my soft but scratchy lips tasted exquisite… the sweet flavour of starburst fruit gums but also the sour undertones of orange juice, along with the sweet promise of love?” He burst out laughing. Blaine scrambled towards him, trying to snatch his old diary out of Kurt’s hands.

“Kurt! Give that back!”

“Why… are you talking… about our first kiss… like it’s a fucking Michelin star meal?” Kurt marvelled, between fits of laughter. Blaine was trying to grab the notebook but Kurt made sure to keep a hand on his chest, preventing him from stealing it back.

“Kurt… please! I was excited!” Blaine shouted, exasperated.

That only made Kurt laugh harder, running away from Blaine who was now getting closer to stealing the diary back, so he jumped up on the bed.

“No! I have a right!” He screamed, jumping down from the bed and now running around the apartment, trying to find another excruciatingly cringe-worthy piece of writing to read out to his very embarrassed husband.

“When we pulled back, I stared into his piercing blue orbs… what the fuck are orbs?” He joked, collapsing onto their couch, reading some more, “and I was so dazed, the only thing going on in my mind was Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, then he said, in the softest, most beguiling voice—” he broke off his reading again, trying to understand Blaine’s writing, “sorry… Blaine? Why are you using such descriptive words? This sounds like a fucking fanfiction!” He laughed, then continuing, “he said we should practice,” he raised his eyebrows as he noticed Blaine was watching him at the end of the couch with an exaggerated pout on his face.

You’re so mean,” Blaine whined, he fucking whined, and that was when Kurt started to feel bad.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” He apologized, “but you’ve gotta admit, it is pretty funny.”

“You’re making fun of my sixteen-year-old self’s writing skills,” Blaine said, the pout on his face still prominent, “Miss Eavesbridge gave me an A for creative writing in English at Dalton once!” He said, referencing their Eleventh Grade English teacher.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry for making fun of your creative writing skills,” Kurt laughed, affectionately, pulling Blaine onto the couch from where he was sitting, untangling his folded arms. “Although I don’t think this would be creative writing since it actually happened.” He cross-examined, stroking his hands through his husband’s hair. He was so grateful that Blaine had loosened up on the gel now, moving away from the brick-like hair he had five years ago. He loved stroking Blaine’s hair.

Blaine groaned in annoyance at Kurt’s display of his pedantic trait but obviously appreciated the attention, nestling his head into Kurt’s neck, wrapping his arms around his husband.

“You’ve embarrassed me.”

“That’s what marriage is for!”

"Rude.”

“You’re cute.”

Blaine looked up at Kurt then, lifting his torso so he was fully on top of his husband, holding himself up by his hands. “I can’t believe you found my old diary. Although I am sorry that I described our first kiss like a Michelin star meal. It’s just— it was special, you know? And I wanted to remember every bit of it.”

Kurt’s face was glowing. He was so in love with Blaine, every day his love grew stronger. As he looked into his hazel (Kurt laughed to himself as he thought of the word orbs) eyes, he wondered how he had become so lucky.

“It was special. Do you want to recreate it?” He replied.

Blaine hummed appreciatively, “mmm. Sounds like a good idea,” and leaned in for a kiss. They stayed like that for a while, breathing each other in, Kurt’s hand cupping Blaine’s cheek, eyes closed.

When they broke apart, they stared at each other for a while, when Kurt mumbled, obviously quite dazed, “Any sour undertones of orange there?”

Blaine groaned, dropping his head back down onto Kurt’s shoulder, “That honestly sounds so fucking disgusting. I can’t believe I ever wrote that.”

“Well, actually, you said you wanted to remember every moment of our first kiss, but you actually got a bit of it wrong in your writing.” Kurt acknowledged, picking up Blaine’s old diary again, “you see, here you wrote that I said we should practice, but I actually remember quite clearly that you said that.”

Blaine frowned at this, grabbing the diary out of Kurt’s hands, reading out loud where he had written that.

“he said, in the softest, most beguiling voice, we should practice. Huh. I did get that wrong. Guess my mind was so dazed all I could think about was Kurt, Kurt, Kurt.” Blaine said, quoting his diary entry.

Kurt burst out laughing at that, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck, pulling him in for a short kiss once again. “You’re such a dork.”

“But you love me anyway.” Blaine smiled.

“Of course I do. And I know you love me too.” Kurt replied, pressing their lips together again. He loved his beautiful, ‘I-got-an-A-in-creative-writing’, beguiling husband. And he wasn’t going to see the end of this story in a very, very long time.

AO3 link

#klaine #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #quarantined!Klaine #married!Klaine #theyaskedmeto #one-shot #complete #Rated G #Less than 5K #submission

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theyaskedmeto · 5 years ago

Text

sour undertones - klaine oneshot

read at ao3

words: 1723

AN: this was inspired by a piece of fanart by animateglee, go check it out!

summary: Kurt finds Blaine's diary and is surprised at what he finds there. Blaine thought it was good at the time, I mean, he got an A in creative writing from Miss Eavesbridge once!

The days have been long for the both of them, and it’s not like he was snooping, really, he wasn’t. He was bored.

15th March 2011

Dear Diary,

“Kurt?”

“What are you doing?”

Blaine frowned, moving closer to Kurt.

“You’re acting weird. What’s going—”

He paused as he realised the notebook on the floor. He looked at it, sitting there, then back at his husband, whose eyes were now comically wide, and they stared at each other incredulously.

“Kurt, I swear to fucking god—”

“Kurt! Give that back!”

“Why... are you talking... about our first kiss... like it’s a fucking Michelin star meal?” Kurt marvelled, between fits of laughter. Blaine was trying to grab the notebook but Kurt made sure to keep a hand on his chest, preventing him from stealing it back.

“Kurt… please! I was excited!” Blaine shouted, exasperated.

That only made Kurt laugh harder, running away from Blaine who was now getting closer to stealing the diary back, so he jumped up on the bed.

“You’re so mean,” Blaine whined, he fucking whined, and that was when Kurt started to feel bad.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” He apologized, “but you’ve gotta admit, it is pretty funny.”

Blaine groaned in annoyance at Kurt’s display of his pedantic trait but obviously appreciated the attention, nestling his head into Kurt’s neck, wrapping his arms around his husband.

“You’ve embarrassed me.”

“That’s what marriage is for!”

“Rude.”

“You’re cute.”

“It was special. Do you want to recreate it?” He replied.

When they broke apart, they stared at each other for a while, when Kurt mumbled, obviously quite dazed, “Any sour undertones of orange there?”

Blaine groaned, dropping his head back down onto Kurt’s shoulder, “That honestly sounds so fucking disgusting. I can’t believe I ever wrote that.”

Blaine frowned at this, grabbing the diary out of Kurt’s hands, reading out loud where he had written that.

Kurt burst out laughing at that, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck, pulling him in for a short kiss once again. “You’re such a dork.”

“But you love me anyway.” Blaine smiled.

#this was meant to be way shorter but oh look! it grew #quarantined!klaine #glee #klaine fanfic #klaine fic #elsie writes #kurt hummel #klaine #blaine anderson #quarantine fic #klaine oneshot #glee fanfiction #fic: sour undertones

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wolfpawn · 4 years ago

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 126

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle are enjoying their trip to Italy.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

I always loved that dog mosaic. Cave Canem is effectively the Latin for Beware the Dog, so I love that someone loved their dog so much they paid a professional artist to put a mosaic on their doorway of it. I am so envious of the archaeologist that got to unearth that.

I WILL get there, it is my dream!

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

‘What do you think?’ Tom asked as they sat overlooking the vineyard.

‘I think a wine tasting is wasting on my sorry ass.’ Danielle beamed as she raised her glass. ‘They all taste similar to me.’

‘And the food?’

‘I already told you, I am not leaving.’ Tom chuckled. ‘Thank you, Tom. I...I love it.’

‘Delighted to hear you say that. Now, about that pasta…’ He eyed her carbonara, licking his lips.

‘They are going to have to shove us in the doors of that plane.’ Danielle joked as she stole some of Tom’s risotto. ‘I think this is the first one of these I have ever seen that is not a mushroom risotto.’

‘Yes, it’s the most common.’ Tom concurred as he stole some of her food. ‘It is exquisite.’

‘I’m telling you, I am not leaving. Ring your mum, get her to send on our dogs and we will stay here, forever.’

‘You need to go back, remember how you were going to take over the business world.’

‘I think it was taking over me for a while.’ She sighed as she enjoyed sitting in the sun.

‘I think you may be right, but we won’t let that happen again.’ Tom promised. ‘We need to do more small trips like this.’ He took her hand in his and kissed it. ‘Are you ready for tomorrow?’

‘Yes. Oh, my God, I am so bloody excited.’ She beamed, looking at the dormant volcano that was not too far away. ‘This is incredible.’

‘Only the best.’

Danielle was like a child on a tour at a toy shop as she looked at the remains of the old city. Both she and Tom were in awe, both having studied Roman history and civilisation, they both knew of the city from school and from the countless shows they could recall seeing as youths before actively seeking documentaries as adults, both individually and together. ‘Is it wrong to say I love this?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, about sixteen thousand people died as a result of the eruption, so that obviously is not a good thing, but to see it, to be here, after thirty years of hearing and reading about it.’

‘That’s true.’ Tom conceded. ‘But you don’t mean it in a bad way, so it’s fine to say it. I feel the same. I never got to see it properly. I passed by, but never really got to see it, so doing this at all, much less with you, is wonderful.’ He put on his sunglasses as he spoke. ‘I think everyone needs to get out of Britain, and Ireland for that matter, for some part of the winter, seeing some sun is a rare and needed occurrence.’

‘I can’t even attempt to argue that.’

‘Nervous?’

‘About seeing the city? Why would I be? I mean, I know she is overdue an eruption, but there are warnings in place these days.’ Danielle dismissed.

‘I mean about the email.’

Danielle pursed her lips. They were three days into their holiday and the day before, their day was interrupted by an email from Branagh, stating that work as to start, as soon as she returned. The weather was wet enough to serve their requirements, so they needed to avail of what they could. ‘Nervous or not, it needs doing. Are you okay with…?’

‘I will look after our boys. I have a few things I need to do for Early Man, but on the whole, I will deal with everything. He said it would only be about a fortnight.’

‘We’ve done longer than that. We will do longer than that again.’ She smiled.

‘Yes.’ Tom gave her a weak smile.

Danielle looked at him for a moment before speaking again. ‘I keep thinking you are on the verge of saying something to me but are hesitating.’

Tom’s brows knit together before he cleared his throat and looked at her. ‘Do you?’

‘Yes. Is everything okay?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Tom smiled, but she was still uncertain. ‘I am just thinking over a few things. Actually, I do have something to ask you.’ Danielle gave a small facial expression that told him she was paying attention. ‘Mum’s Christmas present?’

‘Yes?’

‘What are you getting her?’

‘I thought a nice weekend in that hotel near your cousins, so she can be spoiled and see your aunt all in one.’

‘Damn, you’re good.’ Tom commended.

‘I know right.’ She winked. ‘Why, what were you thinking?’

‘She wants to go to a show, so I am thinking of bringing her.’

‘Oh, she will love that.’ Danielle smiled. ‘Is it in London, you should bring her to Gordon Ramsey’s place beforehand, she is dying to go there.’

Tom’s brow rose slightly. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, apparently he got some new thing in, I don’t know exactly what, but she is gagging to go and I think she would love you to bring her.’

‘You are the best partner ever, scoping this out for me.’ He kissed her.

‘What show?’

‘Nutcracker, ballet. Not my thing really, but you know Mum.’

‘Oh, she will love it.’ Danielle agreed. She took out her phone.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Telling Emma, she wanted to know what we are doing so that no one accidentally gets her the same thing.’

‘Of course.’ Tom self-scolded, knowing that Sarah had texted her present of a holiday with her and Yakov and Sophie to France for a week already. ‘She is spoiled.’

‘And rightly so, your Mum deserves it.’

‘Yes, she does.’ Tom agreed.

Danielle sent the message before smiling with satisfaction and putting her phone away again. ‘Don’t forget to turn your phone on silent.’ She instructed.

‘You will not be happy if someone doesn’t on this tour, will you?’

‘Oh, they’ll be added to the Pompeii death toll, I swear. Murder will occur.’ Danielle promised as she walked forward, Tom chuckling as he put his hand around her waist and kissed her temple. ‘You know you would be reluctant to stop me.’

‘I would, but that would ruin the holiday, you being imprisoned. I plan to treat you more before our return to wet and windy London.’

‘Fine, I won’t murder inconsiderate people, I may maim them though.’

‘I only ask that you try not to.’ Tom joked as they stood, ready to listen to their guide.

Danielle stood staring at the mosaic floor. She could not remember the first time she had seen the image in front of her, seeing it in person was something she was unsure she would ever do, but there it was, she could not help the little smile on her face.

‘You like this, yes?’ She turned to see the Italian girl that was giving their tour.

‘Very much.’ Danielle smiled. ‘It looks so fresh, not two thousand years old.’

‘It is my favourite too. I remember the day I saw it first, I thought the same.’ She smiled.

The pair made small talk for another few minutes before the woman excused herself to bring them on more of the tour.

‘You look somewhat lost?’ Danielle smiled.

Tom walked back to her, having left her side for a moment to read something he realised he had missed only for the guide and Danielle to start their conversation in his absence. ‘I felt it would be wrong to have inserted myself into your conversation. Having fun.’

‘So much. I love this.’

Tom looked at the mosaic on the floor. ‘It looks better than I thought it would after so long.’

‘Kind of like yourself.’ Tom’s eyes widened before he gave her a playful glare. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’ She giggled.

Tom wrapped his arms around her. ‘You terror.’

‘Yes, I am.’ She smiled.

‘I cannot believe how much you have changed.’ Danielle frowned and looked at him. ‘Six months ago, I would never have been able to hold you like this in public.’

‘Six months changes a lot. The constant little din of photographers, comments and people have slowly built up my resilience to these things. I know we could and probably will be photographed here, but I don’t care. People will comment on me, us, whatever and I will laugh at the stupid comments, smile at the nice and scoff at the rest because I care more about your ginger-haired arse than I ever will about what they think.’

‘We both know you love my ass.’ Tom grinned.

‘I do, that’s not a secret at this stage.’ Danielle smiled back.

Tom braved leaning in to give her a kiss, somewhat startled when she leant up and met his lips with hers. ‘I love you.’ He whispered against her lips.

‘I am somewhat fond of you too, Mr Hiddleston.’ She smiled back.

‘Elle?’ Tom looked around the room as he came out of the bathroom. ‘Stop hiding, we have to go back to Rome today.’

‘No, we don’t.’ He turned to see Danielle on the balcony.

‘Yes, we do.’

‘Give me one good reason why we need to go back.’

‘I have two, their names are Bobby and Mac.’ She made a face that showed her reluctant conceding as she walked back inside. ‘We will be back.’

‘I know, but I love it so much. It’s so carefree here.’

‘It is.’

‘Your phone was buzzing.’

‘Thanks.’ Tom checked it before rolling his eyes and throwing it down.

‘Dare I ask?’

‘Us being tactless for getting engaged at Pompeii, us being too “in people’s faces” about our relationship and me trying to recreate the beach photo of me and Taylor.’

‘Forget about them.’ Danielle dismissed. She turned and got her own phone, typing something before scanning it. ‘Look at the nice instead. I am not the only one loving your new facial hair, it is a big thing.’ She sat on the bed, Tom joining her immediately. ‘People, for the most part, are saying it is natural affection and…..why didn’t you tell me my underwear was showing? Tom!’ she playfully slapped his arm as Tom chuckled next to her. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake. You’re terrible.’ He licked his teeth as he grinned. ‘They are not exactly plain either.’ Tom started chuckling again. ‘Unbelievable.’ Danielle went to get off the bed only for Tom to pull her back. ‘How would you like it?’ She asked.

‘There are pictures of me with my boxers showing.’

‘When you wear them.’

‘Part of the reason I sometimes don’t.’ He grinned, leaning over and kissing her.

‘Don’t start, or you’ll need another shower.’

‘That is hardly a deterrent.’ Tom grinned, kissing her again.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 126 #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

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